Over the Rainbow - Book One - 'The Gathering Place'

by Robert Vaughan

  Satoshi ‘Tsk-tsk’-ed under his breath, and carefully removed the bird from its bondage. He chirped at the tiny creature, two short low notes followed by one crisp ‘tweet’ and then addressed the animal in Japanese, “Little brother, you are becoming too greedy…” Satoshi peered at him closely, “...and fat. How many times this week have I freed you?” He tossed the bird into the air with a sigh and watched it disappear into the jungle, a single chirp of thanks as it departed. Satoshi raised a hand in farewell, and called in rejoinder, “And try to find somewhere else to eat, okay?” Shaking his head with a wry chuckle, Satoshi moved to another dangling vine, where two more of the beautiful creatures were ensnared.

  Satoshi carefully unwound each one from the vine in turn, inspected them with a small smile of satisfaction, and then removed several choice feathers from their backs, touching his forehead in an odd gesture of thanks after releasing them both back into the wild. Muttering to himself, he meandered around the back of the rust-painted shed and shuffled toward the aviary, where the chirping of dozens of birds rose in volume to a cacophony of sound as he approached. Reaching into a pouch at his side, he pulled forth a generous handful of seed and tossed it into the cage. Turning from his charges with a satisfied tilt of his head, he turned and pulled open a creaking, rusty door in the half-round end of the shed, and disappeared into the dark, shapeless void within.

  Alani and Chris rounded a corner in the dense foliage and approached the shed, the dark rust of the ancient Quonset hut seeming to almost blend into the matching ground. Alani snagged Chris by the elbow and leaned in to him, saying, “...and if he tells you a little bird told him- don't laugh, it's probably true.” Alani knocked on the doorjamb, and then pulled open the rusty door and called inside, “Granpa Satoshi? Kapuna, are you there...?”

  A voice replied from the shadowy depths- in Japanese, “Hai! Friend-? Or foe?”

  Alani called to the darkness, “Kapuna, it's me!”

  Lights slowly flickered on, their flutterings suggesting that they got their power from a generator rather than regular AC. As they steadily increased in brightness, Chris saw in detail the contents of the enigmatic shed. Row upon row of farm tools; hoes, rakes, shovels, hoses- wheelbarrows stacked five or six deep, bicycles, car parts and God knew what else packed in precarious piles from floor to ceiling. In short, the 'tool shed' looked like a repository for everything not nailed down within a five-mile radius.

  Satoshi popped up from around a distant corner of debris, a vintage pair of binoculars to his eyes, looking for all the world like an extra from a World War II movie set. He smiled and addressed Alani in Japanese, “Ah, my beautiful flower... did you forget our secret knock?”

  Alani responded in English, her tone slightly confused, “Our secret- knock?” And then she smiled brightly and nodded with vigorous affirmation, “Oh, yes, yes of course- the secret knock! Right, right! I'm so sorry, I forgot...”

  Satoshi continued in his native language, “You can't be too careful... Who is your handsome friend?”

  “Kapuna, this is Chris- he's the one-”

  Satoshi interrupted with a burst of realization, this time in highly accented English, “Ohhh! The airplane flier! He has come at last!”

  Alani bowed slightly and held Chris lightly by the elbow. “Chris. This is my Granpa Satoshi.”

  Chris bowed deeply and addressed Satoshi- in Japanese. “I am honored to meet you, sir, and I thank you greatly for your hospitality.”

  Alani gasped in surprise and Satoshi's eyebrows slowly disappeared beneath the brim of his pith helmet, chuckling softly as he turned to ask the gaping Alani, “Did you know he spoke Japanese?” Alani shook her head dumbly, and Satoshi continued in the same language to the now smirking visage of Chris, “Your accent is very good, Kanagawa prefecture?”

  Chris replied, still in Japanese, with a deferential nod of his head. “My instructor was from Yokohama, I learned the language to do business in Tokyo. I never expected to use the language here.”

  Satoshi waxed lyrical, again in English, “Ah! In Hawai'i, every language is spoken…” He paused and frowned wistfully, “...but nobody listens anymore, no one can hear…” With a sly grin he leaned in to Alani and said conspiratorially, this time in Hawaiian, “You keep an eye on this one, my child- I think he's the one...”

  Alani, still dumbstruck by Chris’ surprising use of the language, merely nodded as she leaned over and kissed her aged grandfather softly on the cheek, then bowed and turned to lead Chris out of the shed. Chris bowed briefly to Satoshi, and Satoshi bowed in return, taking both of Chris’ hands in his own.

  And suddenly the world flashed again-

  Chris stared at Satoshi, and Satoshi back at him. This time the elder Nakamura was different- younger, dressed handsomely in tailored black suit, a gray ascot knotted loosely at his throat and a short stove-pipe hat upon his head. A thin, black moustache adorned his upper lip, and a gardenia buttoniere was attached to his lapel.

  Just behind and to one side was a slightly different version of his prior vision of Alani, her vintage dress form-fitting and perfect, an orchid corsage pinned to her chest. She smiled shyly from behind Satoshi, and then touched her tongue to her lips and smiled in a delicate gesture that promised of things to come. The Moon was full and bright behind her, backlighting her glossy dark hair with sparkling points of light as the remnants of the orchestra sat putting away instruments or nursing drinks as a crew of indistinct individuals moved ladders about and slowly struck the strings of lights and décor from the dance.

  Suddenly, the sky overhead flared with brightness like a burst of fireworks, but it was not. Satoshi and Alani winced as they watched, and Chris whirled to see what they were reacting to. As he did, another burst of light and a concussion of an explosion rocked the scene-

  And the world flashed back to the now.

  Chris blinked in confusion, his hands still in Satoshi’s grasp, as the old man slowly winked and tilted his head slightly, a gesture that suggested a knowing far beyond what had just happened. With a slight bow, Satoshi released Chris’ hands and straightened, smiling mysteriously, gazing at Chris in eloquent silence.

  As Alani took Chris by the hand and slowly led him away, Chris looked back over his shoulder to see Satoshi waving back, and then snapping a short salute before turning and retreating back into his shed.

  Shaking his head to clear it of the most recent foray into the bizarre, Chris asked, “What the hell was that?”

  “What he said there at the last? He said- 'never to turn my back on you', and to- 'make sure my gun was loaded'.”

  “No, no, I mean- before…” Chris frowned, and then continued after a brief pause, “Never mind.”

  Andrew leaned on the counter, alone in the now-silent caddie shack. “Yeah, it was totally weird- kinda spooky even. It was rainin' you know, lightnin' too- so nobody wanted to go out. Then all a sudden, there was this big burst of lightnin’, like- right outside the door, and George came in…”

  Kanaka interjected, asking, “George?”

  “Yeah, man, that's the really weird part.”

  “Why?”

  Andrew hesitated with a slight look of fear in his eyes, looking to each of the men in turn before replying, his voice almost a whisper, “Because George has been dead for over ten years.”

  Chris and Alani walked hand in hand amongst the grove of colorful trees, row upon row of magical looking flowers nodding gently in the breeze. Chris stopped and slowly turned around, and said to Alani with a tone colored with both wonder and awe, “This is all so- beautiful. I certainly didn't think that- well... I just didn't expect to see anything like this here, you know? Not exactly what I was thinking a Hawaiian vacation was going to be like.”

  Alani smiled, “Welcome to the 'other' side of Hawai'i. Disappointed?”

  “No way. If I could, I would gladly trade everything I have for this.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “Because this- this feels so much more-
real. I can almost feel it…” He gestured in the vicinity of his abdomen, “...right here. Like there’s some sort of- some sort of connection that I can’t explain.”

  “I know what you mean, about the connection- you know? When I dance, I feel the same thing. I think it's the islands, they do that. That connection, the one you're feeling? I think that's what the essence of 'aloha' really is, you know? That connection- to the Earth...” Alani hesitated, and then an impish smile stole across her face. “Take off your shoes.”

  “What?”

  “Take off your shoes. I want to try something.”

  “You aren’t- I mean, you don’t want to…”

  “No. Trust me, if this works, its way better.”

  A look of puzzled curiosity crossed Chris’ face as he complied, carefully placing his socks in his shoes and setting them aside. Alani took both of Chris’ hands in hers and stared deep into his eyes, her gaze never leaving his.

  “Okay, now close your eyes, and try to sense the energy of the Islands through the soles of your feet.”

  Chris closed one eye, holding the other open, still watching her. Alani smirked and closed both of hers, and then Chris closed the other one.

  “Okay- now- inhale slowly, through your nose.” Chris did so, a slow, leisurely intake of air, and Alani continued, “Now- exhale slowly, again, through your nose... Do you feel it?”

  “I don't know, I mean- I think so- my feet are kind of like- buzzing, tingling...”

  “Okay, cool. Now, if Gran'ma Lei-Lei is right, you're connected. It's fuzzy at first because you supposedly haven't learned to- I don't know how to say it in English- I guess you would say, 'relax', yet... she says it smoothes out later.” Alani pulled Chris slowly to her, their bodies lightly touching. Chris stiffened slightly, and then relaxed. “Okay. Now, breathe- slowly, this time with me...”

  This time, they breathed in unison, slowly, rapturously inhaling. Alani leaned her head in to Chris, and he to hers, their lips instinctively parting, and they kissed- softly, sensually, with a slow, burning passion gradually taking over. The kiss lingered, grew almost- steamy…

  …and then a sudden breeze stirred up the blossoms strewn upon the ground, scattering them about their feet as a shower of multi-colored flowers simultaneously splashed over them from above. As they continued their ardent kiss a strange, almost invisible glow radiated up from the ground, one that carried with it a host of twinkling sparkles like a thousand tiny stars, enveloping them in a warm embrace as a crystalline tinkling of wind chimes drifted magically by on the breeze.

  It was then that he felt it, and she was right- it was infinitely better than anything he could have imagined.

  It started slowly- a warm, stirring glow that pulsed and radiated from his gut, and then spread rapidly to his chest and his loins, quickening the beat of his heart and tightening his groin, the almost orgasmic ecstasy building and causing his breath to contract to short, choppy gasps, and then exploding through his head and rushing out through his feet, leaving him breathless in its’ wake.

  And with that, the moment ended. Chris broke from his reverie, staring at Alani with awe as Alani stared back, a post-coital grin on her face. Chris was speechless, his mouth open dumbly, finally asking, “What the hell was-?”

  Alani smirked broadly, lifting Chris’ chin with a delicate finger, “Don’t ask- you’ll just ruin it.” She released one hand, and turned and started back toward the house. “Come on, let’s get back. If we're gone too much longer, Buddy's gonna kick your ass.”

  Hashimoto and Kanaka slowly approached the front desk of the hotel, knowing from experience that they were nearing the pinnacle of their quest. A perky hapa female desk clerk, the golden name-tag identifying her as ‘Heather’ greeted them with a wide smile, “Good evening, gentlemen. How can I help you?”

  The girl’s smile quickly faded as Hashimoto slid the photo of Walter across the marble counter. “Matthews, Walter. Left this morning, last seen at the golf course- Has anyone reported him missing?”

  “No. Not actually- missing, but his wife did call earlier asking if he had returned from the golf course.”

  “His wife? Is she in?”

  The girl typed a few keystrokes, nodded, “Yes. Room three-twelve. Shall I call up?”

  “No. We'll take care of it. C'mon Darren, let's get his over with...”

  Alani and Chris entered the courtyard through yet another hidden entrance and emerged into a large, open space that contained a long table filled almost to overflowing with food, several mismatched chairs of various origins standing empty around it. Except for one- Buddy sat smiling benignly at one end of the table, a slight indentation on his face where until just recently an oxygen mask had been, a plate piled high with strange and exotic dishes in front of him.

  Chris swept his gaze over the spread and said to Alani, “Wow! All this- for me?”

  Buddy made a rude noise, and then deflected the offending sound with a droll comment. “Naw, these is just left-overs, nobody cooks on Sunday. They better the next time anyway, right? Dig in, bro.”

  As Chris made his way around the Hawaiian smorgasbord, the remainder of the family trickled in- Kenji looking at him silently with an air of introspection, the grand-mammas with merriment and barely contained mirth, Satoshi with a zen-like smirk of knowing. Chris looked from one steaming dish to another, some vaguely recognizable, others distinctly not. Hesitating above the dark lavender hue of the Poi bowl, Chris looked around for a serving utensil, and then gaped in amazement as Buddy demonstrated the lack thereof, dipping out a copious amount of the purplish goo on two fingers, and laughing uproariously at Chris’ reaction.

  Settling into a creaky wooden chair, Chris discarded the proffered fork and dove into the colorful meal with chopsticks, eliciting a renewed bout of whispers and giggling from the two ancient schoolgirls.

  Hashimoto paused outside room 312, his grim countenance reflecting his mood. He hated this- that inevitable moment when someone’s life was changed forever, when he became the harbinger of ill tidings, the dark messenger of fate. He knocked softly on the door, almost as if reluctant to disturb the peace of the individual within, and stiffened in preparation for the next.

  The door opened slowly, and the wide-eyed and timid face of Abigail peeked around its edge.

  “Mrs. Matthews? I'm Detective Hashimoto, this is Detective Kanaka- may we speak with you for a moment?”

  Abigail’s face paled, and she stammered, “Yes-? Yes, of course.” And then a dawn of realization crossed her face, “Is something wrong?” Hashimoto’s face had frozen into an inscrutable mask. “Oh my God! What's happened? Is it my Walter? Is he all right?”

  Kanaka said gently, “I'm afraid we have some bad news, ma'am... May we come in?”

  Abigail’s response was merely stunned silence as her eyes went wide with shock, and she fainted.

  After reviving the pale form of Abigail, Hashimoto began to recount the tale of Walter’s demise, almost theatrically describing the wave, carefully omitting the bizarre appearance of the ghostly visitor, assuring the silent Abigail that he likely passed in an instant, the force of nature that moved him from this life to the next swift and efficient, the people who rescued his remains caring and kind. As he concluded, Kanaka took her gently by the elbow and helped her to her feet, saying almost apologetically, “I'm afraid you'll have to come with us, ma'am. We need you to positively identify the... your husband.”

  Abigail stiffened, “But- I need to tell my son.”

  “Of course, I'll get someone on it right away. Can you tell us where to find him?”

  “But, that's just it. I don't know where he is.”

  Hashimoto inquired, “Where was he last?”

  “I don't know. He went to church with a girl and her family this morning. I haven't heard from him all day.”

  “Darren, check it out- see if he's called the hotel, maybe the desk has a message or something. Don't worry Mrs. Matthews, we'll find your son. Are you r
eady to go?”

  Chris gathered up the remaining chairs from the courtyard, deposited them in their designated places inside the house, and slowly walked back outside, savoring the warm, fragrant air and its chorus of crickets as he gazed up at the Moon, now rising through the trees, enormous on the horizon. He crossed to Buddy, who sat quietly on a worn wooden bench, idly plucking and strumming a battered and stained ukulele.

  Buddy looked up with a soft smile of contentment on his face. He patted a place near him and called to Chris, “Hey! Take a seat, bro. Relax.”

  Alani emerged from the house, and crossed to sit beneath the Chinese wisteria as Buddy segued from his idle strumming into the traditional island melody- ‘Keyhole Hula’. Noelani, Lei-lei and Kei-kei glided almost silently into the courtyard, and at once Lei-lei was overcome by the music, closing her eyes and moving in a loose, disjointed hula. Chris watched her in silence, mesmerized by her movements, looking briefly to Alani, who watched her grandmother in smiling reverence.

  A moment into the song, Kei-kei leaned in on tip-toes to Lei-lei, whispered something into her ear, and then giggled and disappeared into another part of the courtyard. A brief smattering of applause rang out as Buddy finished the song and bowed, and then he launched into the rollicking ‘Kuhio Bay’, his high tenor voice lilting and strong. Alani swiftly crossed to Chris and pulled him to his feet, holding his hands with unusual firmness, staring into his eyes and fixing his gaze with hers. Alani smirked at her prisoner and said quietly, “Time for your hula lesson.”