The Tattoo (12 page)

He put me down and I released my grip. We began to playfully box each other, and Kaika laughed. We stopped. “Hey,” Freddie said, “what’s dis about you moving town?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know. Fuck, I figure I stay hea, I only goin’ get into trouble, end up getting someone pregnant or goin’ jail or something. I cannot even get one job down hea.”

He laughed, looked at Kaika, and motioned for the kid to take off. When Kaika left, he said, “Shit, you know you get one job. Besides jail, you shouldn’t be scared. I get some boys in Halawa Corrections, no worry, you end up dea, you do easy time.”

I shrugged again. “Fuck, I no like do anykine time.”

He laughed. “None of us do, bradda, none of us do. But fo’ some of us, no matta what, we goin’ do time. I no care you live Ka‘a‘awa, Waiahole, Kahaluu, town. Some of us, we was destined to go.”

“Fuck dat,” I said, “I ain’t going.”

He laughed. “Too bad you like go town. I lived town befo’. Fuckin’ worse den ova hea. But I know you set on goin’ so I cannot say anyting. Too bad, too. Out of all da braddas I do business wit’, I trust you da most, especially since you quit blowing. Fuckin’ Koa ova dea, dat fucka like one vacuum cleana. Fuck, I hope his bradda not like dat.”

We laughed. Suddenly he turned serious, put his hand in his pocket, and pulled out a wad of bills. He handed it to me. “Hea, your grad present,” he said.

I counted the bills. It came out to fifteen hundred. I shook my head. “No fuckin’ way. You crazy? I not going take dis from you.”

When I tried to hand the wad back to him, he pushed my hand away. “Bradda,” he said,“you try give dat back to me and we trowing blows. Jus’ keep ‘um. I like you have ‘um. You need money you go town. Fuck, what you goin’ do wit’ out money?”

We began throwing the money at each other. When I threw it for the third time, he didn’t catch it. Instead he let it bounce off his chest and fall to the ground. He attacked me. He wrapped his arm around my head. I put my hands against him and tried to squeeze my head out. His grip was too strong, so I went for his leg. I grabbed the one closest to me and lifted it off the ground. I heard him laugh. I pulled the leg up as high as I could. I felt his arm squeeze my head harder as he lost his balance. We spilt on the ground. I still couldn’t get my head out. I was beginning to feel suffocated, beginning to lose my cool. I think Freddie sensed I was beginning to take this little play seriously. “You going take da money?” he said.

“Fuck you.”

He laughed. “Take da money or I neva goin’ let you go.”

I tried to struggle out of it, but I felt him adjust his grip. What was once a playful headlock was now a choke hold. I was stuck. I was enraged. I wanted to struggle out of it, but I knew it was too late.“I give,” I said.

We hugged each other and he walked away. I think he was pissed that I was getting pissed. I picked the money off the ground and buried it in my pocket. I dusted off my pants and walked back toward the keg. I stretched my neck.

The next familiar face I ran into was Aunty Jana’s. She was standing right outside the tarp, her hand resting on one of the poles which held it up. Several metallic colored balloons which read, “Congratulations” in cartoon letters, were tied to the pole. The wind blew and the balloons attacked her. She tried to box them away.

I had only seen her a few times over the last several years. Though Uncle Sonny still came around to drink with my father, Aunty Jana had stopped coming around after my mother died. She smiled when she saw me and we kissed each other on the cheek. She held me at arm’s length and said, “Wow, you one man, ah? I still remember when you was one little kid, and we used to take you camping.”

I smiled. “How you doing, Aunty Jana?”

“O.k., o.k., but neva mind dat. How you? What you goin’ do now?”

“I don’t know,” I said, “I was thinking about moving to town. Maybe go school or something.”

This brought a big smile to her face. The balloons blew in front of her. For a moment she looked like she had a shiny metal head. After the wind died and her fake head disappeared, she spoke. “Wow, right on. Would be good to see at least someone go college from dis side of da island. I know your mom always wanted you to go. She used to say, ‘I wonder where I should send Kenji to college? Berkeley or Stanford.’ She used to think you were so smart. She used to smile every time she saw you reading because you always read and no one ever had to tell you to.”

I began to feel uncomfortable, like a failure, thinking how if I went to school anywhere, it would be Kapiolani Community College. I thought about Freddie, who I had just talked to, and said to myself, “Yeah, Mom would be proud.” I thanked Aunty Jana for coming, kissed her on the cheek again, and made an awkward exit toward the tarp.

As I walked around looking for Koa under the covered area, I noticed that a crowd was forming. I approached it and saw Koa’s father and mine drinking together. They were calling people to them, saying they had things to announce. When they saw me, they waved me forward. As we stood there in the middle of the crowd, the sun was setting, and we waited for Koa.

About ten minutes later Koa and Kahala arrived and they were also called up. My father, by now drunk and happy, put his hand up, indicating that he wanted to speak. The crowd quieted. “Today, my son graduated from high school,” he said. “I feel so... surprised, really.” The crowd laughed. He continued, “Just think, about two, three months ago, I had to pick dis kid up from jail.” Again laughter. “Well, I’m here talking because I have a present to give my only son.” He pulled a piece of paper out from his pocket. “My son, da one always reading books, here, I give you your pass out of Ka‘a‘awa and your pass into school.”

I grabbed the paper from him. It was a check in my name for three thousand dollars. I was shocked. “Wow,” I mumbled. The crowd laughed.“I’m rich!” I said.“It’s three thousand dollars.” Everybody laughed. I shook my father’s hand and he smiled. People took pictures of us as we stood under the tarp, the crumpled artificial sky.

Next it was Uncle James’ turn. “Koa,” he said, “come hea.” He took a piece of paper from his pocket. He handed the document to Koa, and Koa began reading it. After several minutes of quiet, Koa stepped to his father and hugged him. They just stood there, hugging each other. After Koa finally broke the embrace, he said,“Dis is one deed in my name. My fadda gave me one quarta acre in Waiahole.”

Everyone clapped. Uncle James spoke. “Your great grandfadda used to own a lot of land dis side. Our family no more too much left, but I figure, one quarta acre, das good.You can build one house on top. Ken’s fadda arready said he was going help.”

Everyone laughed as my father put on an exaggerated look of surprise. Then he smiled and put his arm around Koa. “Nah, no worry, I help you. But no expect you goin’ get one mansion or swimming pool or anyting.” Everyone laughed. As the voices quieted, I heard a strong gust blow against the blue tarp. Violent wrinkles rode through the blue material like waves.

Then Koa spoke. “You know what, I get one announcement, too.”

He called Kahala over. She walked to his side and held his hand. He cleared his throat, whispered in Kahala’s ear, then spoke to everyone. “Me and Kahala, we goin’ get married.”

The place was silent. The wind blew harder. Everyone knew she was probably pregnant. I looked at poor Koa and Kahala squirming up there and I wanted to laugh. Not laugh at them, but just laugh to ease the tension.

Finally Koa’s father broke the stillness. He walked up to Kahala and gave her a big bear hug. Next, Koa’s mother walked up to her husband and daughter-in-law-to-be, pushed her husband away, who outweighed her by almost two hundred pounds, and hugged Kahala. Everyone laughed. I couldn’t believe it, I looked over at Koa, and he began to cry. He was so fucking happy, he started crying. I walked up to him and gave him a hug.

He wiped his eyes and asked, “So what? You going be my best man, yeah?”

“You know dat,” I said.

Suddenly the wind blew harder, so hard that the blue tarp lifted like an opened parachute. The poles holding it up were ripped out of the ground and I heard laughter as the tarp fell down on everyone who was standing under it. I thought, the sky is falling. After I got out from under it, I looked up to the real sky and saw darkness. Suddenly balloons crossed my vision. Those metallic balloons with the cartoon letters were floating high in the sky.

Before the night was over I had a chance to talk to Kahala. I was drunk by then, not only from alcohol, but with the thought of my six-thousand five-hundred dollars. The two I had stashed at home, the fifteen hundred from Freddie, and the three from my father. Actually, the next day, I found out I had altogether collected nine thousand. I opened dozens of congratulation cards filled with twenties and fifties. But that night there I was, grinning with happiness, looking for the next person to toast with. That was when I saw Kahala sitting alone at one of the empty tables, shrouded by the night.

I sat down next to her. “Congratulations,” I said, “on the engagement, I mean.”

She smiled. “Thanks. You too, on your ticket out of here.”

I took a sip from my beer, and I don’t know, I guess I was feeling frank. “Your dad must be having a stroke over this.”

She laughed. “Yeah, he isn’t too happy. He told me I’m on my own if I marry Koa. He was especially mad because I told him I’d have to wait a couple of years on college. I was supposed to go to the University of Washington, but I turned it down. Jeez, he was acting like if I didn’t go this August, I’d never go.”

“Well, at least you guys got that land you can build on,” I remarked, trying to lift her enthusiasm.

She sighed. “Yeah, that was totally cool of Mr. Puana. I’m stoked. But you know, even though I’m going to do this, I still feel scared. You know, eighteen and getting married. Don’t get me wrong, I love Koa. And I would never get an abortion. But, you know.”

I knew. She was scared shitless. She felt like her life was ending. Like all of us had thought when we were young, that when you get married, have kids, that’s it. It’s over. I suddenly realized that she probably envied my “ticket.”

“I’ll tell you what,” I said, “if it ever gets really bad, give me a call. Not that it’ll ever get bad, you and Koa, you guys will be happy together, but if it ever really gets terrible, give me a call and I’ll send you a ticket.”

She laughed again. “Thanks. Hopefully I’ll never have to take you up on that, but thanks for offering. I’m sure it’ll be great. We’ll build a house, one that we can design. It’s going to be a killer house. That I’m looking forward to.”

I decided I liked her even more. She worried about the future, and it made me feel like I had a partner, like I wasn’t the only one. “Yeah, that should be cool,” I said,“making your own house.”

She looked at me and smiled.“So I guess I should tell Cheryl that you’re not interested.”

“I don’t believe I lasted this long,” I said. “I dig her, but I gotta get out of here. Besides, I wouldn’t be good for her, anyway. What are you Ahuimanu chicks doing? Chasing us delinquents around?”

“You know what it is? You guys, you’re real. You know, no bullshit. You guys do what you want, be yourselves with no apology. Like, ‘This is me, take it or eat shit and die.’ There’s no hiding with you guys. Girls like that, you know.”

Suddenly I felt an arm resting on my shoulder. Koa stuck his face between me and Kahala and then he turned his head toward me. “Eh, neva mind trying to steal my fewtcha wife, ah.” He turned to Kahala and kissed her.

She crinkled her brow and laughed. “Ill, you drunk.”

Koa turned back to me. “C’mon, get up, we gotta take more shots.”

I sighed. “Let’s go.” I smiled at Kahala, kissed her on the cheek, and said, “Bye.”

Koa and I left her at the table and headed toward the tequila, determined to get even drunker. By the end of the night, we were so drunk we passed out in the yard. The next day, when the harsh sun woke us up, we stood up and brushed the grass and dirt off our clothes. We looked at each other and laughed until the tears came out of our eyes. I felt my head pounding and tasted the cotton feeling in my mouth, but I laughed anyway. Koa turned away to puke. I laughed even harder. We spent the morning laughing, crying, and puking all at the same time.

What a fucking night that was! Fucking beautiful. There are some experiences so pure, so deep, that flowery descriptions and metaphors don’t do them justice. When you remember them, you have to use expletives. There’s no other way.