https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/472903
The gentle sounds of a Hawaiian slack guitar
are heard in the distance as the retreating tidal waves
ripple softly across
the hushing sands. The rainbow sunset colors over Maili Beach turn suddenly
black as the tropical night silhouettes a bright moon high in the sky. It’s the
summer of 1986 on the west coast of Oahu, Hawai’i. The moonbeams light up a
section of the beach and a six-foot deep trench with the hands and face of a
man stretching and clawing for air, through the sand. He makes gargling sounds
as the sand fills his mouth and struggles to get free. Two heavyset men with
Polynesian features stand over him heaping sand onto his face and body. They
strike at the man's hands and head, with their spades, to keep the man under
the sand.
MONDAY
11:30 P.M.
Jeffery Kellar climbs out of a cab and
frantically pulls at his empty pockets for his few remaining dollars to pay the
driver. He lugs his bags out of the cab into the Airport terminal building. His
hot portly body is sweaty. His face is a mass of stress lines that pinch his eyes accentuating his Japanese features. His clothes hang off
his atrophied limbs like a skeleton in an evening suit. He furtively looks
around to see if anyone’s following him. The Airport lobby is deserted. Jeffrey
finds a locker and puts his bags in, then sits down at a phone booth and begins
going through his phone book.
“Why is this happening to me?” he says to
himself. “What have I done to be thrown into this world of danger? Isn’t good
meant to triumph over evil? I thought divine providence protects those whose
intentions are good. What the hell is going on?” He breathes a deep sighs
unable to find answers to his any of his questions and begins calling random
number. As he listens, he hears the droning dial tones or irate curses from a wrong number! Then he
comes across his old friend Jake Smith’s number. He’s not spoken to Jake in
years. They played in a band together five years ago. Jeffrey pulls his last
coins out of his pocket and makes the call.
“Yeah! Who the fuck is this? says Jake
“It’s me, Jeffery. Jake, man, I’m so glad
you’re there.”
“What the fuck do you want?
“It's me, Jeffery…. Jeffery Kellar! Jeffery
'the Guitar' Kellar. You know?
“Oh, Jeffery, the fat slob from ‘The Islands’!
Oh, yeah. Hey, man. What the fuck you calling me for? You still owe me money
you fat fuck! Is that why you're calling me? I ain't heard from your ass in
years.
“I gave you that money back, man, remember…?I
gave you that bag of
weed….”
“Oh… yeah…! Shit. I forgot about that. That
was a long time ago…but yeah now you.... Come to think of it.... I do remember
that bag of weed....So....so it's all good man. What's up?”
“Man, you’ve got to help me….I'm in real
trouble… I found my ex-girlfriend dead in her condo… I've got dumped with this
bag of land deeds that belongs to my gangster family - which must be worth
millions of dollar! I've got these two
guys following me…. The police are after me… I’ve lost my airline ticket back
to the States and I have no money! I'm stranded here in Hawaii, man! You’ve got
to help me!”
“Tough shit. You should be so lucky. I wish I
was stranded in Hawaii, instead of in downtown fucking Brentwood, the soulless
asshole of the world!”
“No, man… I'm serious. I'm in some really bad
shit. I need your help.”
“How much bad shit can you possibly get into
in an island paradise?”
“I can't explain, man, but it involves a whole
bunch of shit that I can’t begin to understand. I have got to get out of here,
now!”
“Wait a minute. What was that thing you said
about land deeds and lots of money?
“Yeah, well potentially there's a lot of money
just sitting out there waiting to be picked up. But I can't worry about that
now. I've got people looking for me and I've got to get out of here now! Man,
you've got to help me. You're my last hope. I’m running out of money and the
phone’s about to go dead. I've got no money to get a ticket out of here. Can
you please, please help me, man, I’m begging you. I don’t know how long I can
hold on!”
“Relax man, if the phone goes dead just call
me collect. Now, what was it you were saying about a lot of money and land
deeds?”
The phone goes dead and Jeffery frantically
dials the operator to make the collect call.
“Yep, that you Jeffery?”
“ Yeah, can you help me man? I'm shit scared
out of my mind. It's like I've returned to some 18th century land of
blood feud's, and tribal wars! I know those
hoods who were following me will soon realize
where I am. Jake you got to help me, man.”
“Take it easy Jeff. You always were a pussy.
If they haven't found you yet, it’s probably because they've stopped looking,
and I’m sure they’ve got better things to do. If they saw you going to the
airport they probably expect that you're coming back to the mainland. They
don't want you anyhow. Now what's with these land deeds you mentioned?”
“Well, all I know is I got this bag full of
land deeds that I’m supposed to hold for the family trust. I’m supposed to meet
with the family this Friday for some kind of succession stuff, but I can’t wait
for that. These people frighten me.”
“I'll tell you what Jeff, old buddy. I’ve got
a better plan. Yeah, you know. I think I’ll come to Hawaii and see this for
myself. Yeah, I'm gonna come out to Hawaii. I could use a break from this
shithole I’m in. Hawaii might just be the ticket.”
“No, Jake… That's not necessary. Just get me a
ticket out of here.”
“Now listen here you pussy. I'm not gonna hand
over a chunk of money
to save your ass, when I aint seen you in over
five years, just to bring your sorry ass back here. Not when there's money to
be had. So tell me all you know about
this land deeds stuff. I'm taking the next flight out.”
