Over the Rainbow - Book One - 'The Gathering Place' (32 page)

Chris finished his drink, and then stood and
stretched luxuriously, sweeping his gaze slowly around as he took
in the lush, pastoral setting. Native ferns, palms, flowers,
grasses and trees were abundant, carefully arranged in Zen
profusion, only allowing tiny glimpses of the surrounding house
through them. At his feet was a gravel path, meticulously clean and
neatly raked, clearly the work of a fastidious and diligent
gardener.

The world was silent, but it was a silence that when
you were quiet and still within yourself was replete with sound.
The gentle breeze tickled the tops of the tallest plants, who
whispered quietly among themselves as the faint tinkling chimes of
a myriad of musical devices came and went on the wind, their
sources hidden amongst the various nooks and crannies of plantings
within the space. But it was the gentle musical burbling of water-
likely a fountain of sorts- that drew the focus of his
attention.

First looking left, then right, Chris moved off at
random, seeking out the source, his feet crunching on the
pea-gravel of the path as he wove along its curves. It was barely a
moment later when he discovered his first wonder- an almost hidden
Koi pond, the water disappearing into the landscaping, a tiny
Japanese-style bridge spanning a narrow portion of the limpid pool.
Chris mounted the low structure and leaned on the rail, looking
down in admiration at the massive, multi-colored fish that swam
lazily below his feet. Now on a personal adventure, Chris continued
across the bridge, and a few yards further along the path, nearly
hidden around a bend of a corner of the pond he was delighted to
discover a smiling Japanese Buddha that sat in isolated serenity
beneath a low hanging red maple, a few coins scattered in his lap,
his serene countenance reflected in the soft ripples of the water
that flowed around him.

Placing his own coin of gratitude upon the Buddha’s
lap, Chris continued down the path, plunging into a mini-forest
that now completely occluded his view of the house, the low hanging
branches and vines creating a maze of green before him. Pushing
aside a broad, leafy fern, he was rewarded with his second wonder-
a large round space cleared of plants, an ancient looking
Pagoda-shaped altar at its center, several more of the weathered
stone benches ranged around the perimeter of the space. As he
approached the curious structure, Chris saw the offerings and
photos of remembrance- some old, some new, stubs of old incense and
faded candles, an occasional charm and random something-or-other;
and Kenji’s Derek Jeter Bobble-head, its’ plastic incongruity
almost laughable in contrast to the other equally sincere offerings
that lay scattered about.

Smiling warmly to himself, Chris continued about in
his explorations, this time drawn to the group of Hawaiian Ginger
and its accompanying flock of Bird-of-Paradise surrounding it.
Bending to smell the fragrant plant, its’ intoxicating aroma making
him slightly woozy, he suddenly stiffened and stood rigidly upright
when he heard it- the sound that had he become all too familiar
with over the last forty-eight hours. It was the dull thump of
drums, the soft drone of chanting and the muted stamping of
feet.

His eyes creasing in curiosity, he
pushed through a pair of lush, green shrubs and stifled a scream of
alarm and surprise as he found himself face-to-face with a
fierce-looking Tiki, its defiant features right before his eyes.
And as he did, the drums, stamping and chanting sharply
increased
in volume, not
from
without
- but
from
within
, the
sounds now echoing in the corners of his mind.

Chris staggered back in confusion and more than just
a bit of fear and turned to flee- only to crash into the massive
bulk of Buddy, who had somehow just materialized through the trees.
Chris stumbled back and exclaimed, “YOW!!! Shit! Oh, wow, man, you
nearly gave me a heart attack!”

Buddy smiled sardonically and
replied, “It's
your
turn. I
had
mine.” And then he looked past Chris’ shoulder and grinned,
“I see you found Kane.”

“
Who?”

“
Come here, check it out...” Buddy
parted the branches, again revealing the fierce-looking idol.
“There’s four main Gods in the old Hawaiian religion. This one-
he's Kane. I guess you would call him- kind of like the god of
creation, you know?” Buddy turned and pointed diagonally across the
space, “Over there is Lono; he’s like the supreme god of peace.”
Buddy turned slightly, and indicated the opposite corners of the
enclosure, “The other two, Ku and Kaneloa, they over there. Each
one guards his own corner, looking back de other way, dat way dey
all got each other’s back’s ya?”

Chris was running his hand gently over the weathered
surface of the wooden carving. “Where did they come from? Who made
them?”

Buddy paused dramatically and raised a mocking
eyebrow in amusement. “You mean, like- for reals?”

Chris replied, confused, “Yeah,
but-
what
?”

Buddy chuckled softly, “My
great-grandpa, Haku. He carved them over sixty years ago, back
before dis place was even built. Dude was a master carver, bra,
made boats the old-fashioned way. Anyway, they been here ever
since. In fact, this whole place was built around them, since they
was here first. C’mon, I show you da others…” Buddy held the leafy
branches for Chris, who passed through with a final glance of awe
back at the ancient one, who- for a brief illogical second, almost
seemed to be-
smiling
.

Chris did a confused double-take and stumbled
through the dense foliage as he shook his head trying to clear the
anomalous vision, only to be greeted by another- it was the sight
of Alani drifting silently through the trees, the sunlight behind
her making her seem to positively glow, angelic, in the clearing by
the altar. Chris could practically hear the soft songs of angels as
he saw her, a tiny smile gracing her delicate features, and he
resisted the urge to shake his head again, this time to avoid
disturbing the magic of this moment.

Buddy greeted his sister with an
enormous bear hug, lifting her off her feet effortlessly, and then
holding her by the waist and gently returning her to earth. He gave
her a platonic kiss on her forehead and then stated
enthusiastically, “Hey, you know what? You should take haole-boy
here and show him da orchards- I bet he never saw one dat’s jus’
filled with
flowers
.” Buddy turned to leave, taking a short shaky breath as he
did, his face suddenly pale in the bright sunlight and then turned
back with a fragile smile and dismissed them a wave, “I'm gonna go
take a load off, take a break, ya?” He kissed Alani on the cheek in
a reassuring manner and added, “Make sure he don't get lost, ya?”
And then wagged a ‘shaka’ sign to Chris as he began to move off,
“You be cool, bro. I see you later, all right?”

Alani merely watched in silence as Buddy disappeared
into the green, a sharp look of concern furrowing her brow and
marring her beautiful features.

Hashimoto hung up the phone, twirling his pencil in
thought, “Well, that was a bust.” He turned to Kanaka and inquired
hopefully, “You find out anything?”

“
Not much. He's not a local, and
this company in town don't know if they got a missing guy or not.
Said they'd check. Hell, we might not hear back from them until
tomorrow at the earliest. Tried Hong Kong, but all I got was a
message, it’s still early tomorrow over there. I'd try their office
in New York, see if maybe one of their people is out here on the
islands, but it's still Sunday there.” Kanaka tilted back in his
chair and stared into the ceiling. “Why does the weird shit always
happen on the weekend? How about you? Anything?”

“
Zilch. I guess we just wait until
someone calls, reports him missing…” Hashimoto sighed and turned
his gaze back to the Sudoku puzzle on the desk before him, asking
Kanaka, “...you got a pencil?”

“
In your hand,
Sherlock.”

Hashimoto looked to his hand and grinned.

The classical strains of
The Who’s
‘Baba
O’Reilly’ blared from the unnecessarily large speakers that filled
the corners of the dim confines of the tiny coroner’s office, where
the pale, marbled slab that was Walter lay covered by a thin sheet,
supine on the stainless-steel table. Playing in impromptu drum solo
along with the melody, Robert ‘Bob’ Alawai, part-time medical
examiner and full-time sexton for the multiplicity of local faiths,
finished the riff and dramatically tossed his instruments into a
stainless-steel tray, where they clattered musically in
counterpoint to the music. He then began to meticulously fold the
clothes that had once belonged to his latest guest. Laying the
sodden trousers along a long metal counter, Bob smoothed the pants
out flat, and then suddenly recoiled in pain as his hand passed
over a back pocket. Picking up the pants to more closely inspect
them for the cause of his injury, he peered at them myopically
through his dirty reading glasses, and his eyes went wide in
revelation…

Hashimoto and Kanaka dozed lightly in their separate
chairs with their feet up on desks, a pencil still entwined in
Hank’s limp fingers and a crumpled newspaper across Darren’s chest.
The phone rang shrilly, in the soft silence louder than a warning
claxon, startling both men and nearly toppling them to the floor.
Hashimoto fumbled for the hand-set, nearly dropping it and then
placing it between shoulder and ear as he reached for the pencil
that was already in his hand.

“
Hashimoto. Hey,
Bob! What’s up?” As Hashimoto listened, his eyebrows slowly crept
up his forehead in obvious surprise. “NO WAY!
Really?
Wow…” Hashimoto smiled, an
impish grin spreading slowly across his face as he listened. “Okay,
okay, I'll tell him- Mahalo, bro!” Hashimoto triumphantly replaced
the phone onto its cradle and leaned back with his hands behind his
head. “Guess who that was.”

Darren rubbed fatigue from his eyes and a hand
through his hair. “Hank, don't play games. This day ain't half over
yet. What?”

“
You remember when you said you
didn't find anything when you checked our guy?”

“
Yeah, he was clean, right out of
the spin cycle, nothin’ on him but the watch.”

“
Not so, fair Watson. That was the
Bob. Apparently we missed something…”