Chief Distraction (7 page)

Chapter
Eight

“Chief, who am I picking up at the peer?” asked
Pono as he stood on the deck of one of the fire station’s three rescue boats.

“A reporter named Blythe Davenport.”

“Kay. What’s she look like?”

Without hesitation, Mak’s mind drifted to every
delicious detail. It wasn’t something hard to remember. Her skin was pale, yet
supple and flawless. Smooth. Her hair a deep auburn with natural golden
highlights. She was special, different. Unique. He’d never met anyone like her.
“Red hair, tall, kind of thin. She’s with Big Lou so you can’t miss her.” He
could easily have gone into detail about the size of her breasts – just
big enough – or that her long lean legs led to a perfect backside, but
that would be unprofessional to say the least. “On second thought, I’ll take
the boat to the peer and out to the island alone, make it easier. That way you
don’t have to wait around for us. You can go straight to the convention. Sound
good?”

“Sounds great. This convention gets me outta diaper-duty
for a while too.” Pono hopped down from the boat to the dock, threw Mak the
keys and practically ran for his van. “Enjoy frying in the island sun and watch
out for landmines.”

                 
<><><>

Sitting
in the truck waiting for the boat bound for Kahoolawe, or
Target Island
as Chief Kalani had
affectionately called it, Blythe was reluctant to pry for answers about Mak,
but her curiosities were far more powerful.

“So Lou, what’s the story with Chief Kalani?”

Big Lou sipped his macadamia-flavored latte. He
looked over, his face scrunched. “A haole like you would think it’s weird.”

“Try me.”

Lou blew the foam to cool the scalding drink
down. “Shoulda got an iced latte,” he stalled. “Well, the Chief’s cursed.”

Blythe leaned away from him in mock astonishment.
“Get out! So, he’s into witchcraft and hocus-pocus stuff?”

“No!” Big Lou chuckled and shook his head. “Told
you. City girl.”

“Seriously, what kind of curse? I want to know.”

The distant honk of an approaching boat filled
the silence. Big Lou’s face contorted in concentration, “It’s a kinda personal
story, but I guess most people know it now anyways. It’s been, wow, twenty-one
years since it happened. Around that.”

Blythe leaned in closer, wanting Lou to be quick
and thorough before the boat arrived. “What happened?” she asked, though deep
down she already knew every detail of Makaio Kalani’s story.

“When Mak was nineteen, he was driving home from
a party. His girlfriend was in the passenger seat. It was dark and he was going
pretty fast on the Piilani Highway, you know how teen guys are when they
drive.”

Blythe nodded.

“It was dark and Mak was goin’ too fast and
there was this mudslide up ahead on the road he couldn’t see. The car slid off
the highway and the force of impact killed his girlfriend instantly.”

Blythe stared at Big Lou’s lips, trying to let
it all sink in. The beginning of this story was one she’d never heard. For a
moment, she was disoriented. “Wait, what?” Blythe shook her head, confused.
“His girlfriend died? Beside him?”

“Yeah. Not good, huh?”

Blythe put a hand over her mouth. “My God,
that’s awful.” A sinking feeling engulfed her chest. “But I thought he dumped
his girlfriend and she put a curse on him?” Blythe’s voice was hushed.

Lou shook his head. “Nope. That’s not what happened.
Whoever told you that is a liar. There was an article written about it long ago
too sayin’ what you just said. A lie.”

“Apparently.” She’d gotten it wrong. All those
years ago, she’d written a completely different – completely misinformed
and incorrect – account of Makaio Kalani’s curse. This man had been
through so much heartache and her article had been the extra kindling on the
fire. “So how is he cursed then?” she pried, wanting to get the real story this
time.

“The girl who died, Melini, her Kupuna is
Reverend Okelani, a very well known elder and superstitious Kahuna in our
community. She was leaning over Mak’s hospital bed when he finally came
around.”

“What do you mean, ‘came around’? Was he
unconscious?”

“Yeah, from the impact. The Kahuna told him
Melini was dead and that it was his fault. That she had been his responsibility
and he’d been going too fast, probably drinking. Not once did anyone say it was
a natural disaster. Mudslide’s in the dark are common. He didn’t stand a chance
in those conditions.”

“Nobody would!” Blythe added. “So, he’s cursed
because he feels responsible for her death?”

“No, no, it’s a real curse. Reverend Okelani
told him he’ll never find love and happiness, never have the chance to ruin
another woman’s life ever again.”

“Never?”

“Never, ever.”

Blythe swallowed hard. “That’s not fair. Did he
believe her?”

Big Lou shot her an annoyed look, his eyebrows
raised. “See, you don’t believe.”

“You don’t have to be a city girl to know how
ridiculous this sounds.”

“Look, she cursed him and she’s an elder, a very
respected one. She’s very spiritual. We believe in that stuff, Blythe. Everyone
does. It’s part of our culture.”

“Then why stay? Why not go to the mainland and
start over…or ask forgiveness?”

“It’s not that easy to just run away from your
family or your history. Mak could easily have become a burnout, but he was
determined to prove his worth. He’s done that with his career. His love life?
That’s another story. It’s bad, real bad.”

Blythe shook her head again, consumed by the
needless sorrow and loss that Mak had experienced all due to some silly
tradition. If anything, he should have had the chance to grieve for his
girlfriend and become a man without having some curse hanging over his head.
The guilt alone was enough of a curse, but to be publically shunned by a
respected elder, it was like receiving a Hawaiian scarlet letter on his
forehead.

Blythe’s face felt hot and she fidgeted
nervously in her seat as the fire department’s rescue boat approached. Spotting
Mak in the drivers seat, her anxiety ramped by the minute. She’d written a
fabricated article on false information years ago and now it was coming around
full circle to bite her in the conscience. Wanting to squash the sinking
feeling of regret deep in the pit of her stomach, Blythe tried to make light of
it.

“What’s so bad about the curse? It’s not like if
you get with him you’ll die or anything.”

Big Lou paused, looking at her with a knowing
intensity. “Yep. It’s a death wish.”

She stared at him blankly.

“Okay, maybe not that bad. But for some reason,
women never stick around. It’s like he’s got a contagious disease.”

Although she didn’t want to think poorly of Mak,
her logical side naturally took over. “Could it be he’s just not fun to be
around? Maybe he doesn’t have anything to offer them.” She already knew this
wasn’t true based on her lunch with the Chief. He was witty, personable, and
charming. Not to mention easy on the eyes.

“Ouch, that’s harsh. Why don’t you go out with
him and let me know? I’m not a chick, so I can’t answer that one.” Lou shrugged
his bulky rounded shoulders. “Mak has akahai. That means he’s modest. I never
saw that guy be arrogant, even when he had every reason to be. He’s just a good
guy.”

Blythe knew that meant a lot coming from Big
Lou. He didn’t give out props lightly. She’d received two genuine compliments
from him in the past, the rest of the time his sentences were woven with
sarcasm or silly jokes.

As if to end their chat, Lou lumbered to the end
of the dock in preparation for boarding. She followed, her head swarming with
the Chief’s possible inadequacies. As the boat pulled up beside the dock, she
locked eyes with Chief Kalani and her uncertainties evaporated. The magnetism
she felt in his presence was getting more difficult to deny. She’d been guarded
before, cautiously mindful that he was a player who’d been cursed by a slighted
girlfriend. Now that the truth was out, she felt intense guilt mixed with an
overpowering desire to protect him from further harm.

“Here, give me your hand.” Chief Kalani leaned
over the edge with his arm outstretched expectantly. She looked over at Lou who
smiled lazily and winked. Rolling her eyes, she took his hand, the skin on skin
action sending sparks to the depths of her belly. She held on firmly before
hoisting her legs over and into the boat as gracefully as possible. It was a
tricky feat in a skirt, but she managed. Standing back, she watched Big Lou
pass the Chief his camera case before he practically rolled himself over the
edge and onto the boat, his size and girth making the task a daredevil stunt.
Blythe felt the boat tilt to the left with his additional weight.

“They don’t call you Big Lou for nothing,” Chief
Kalani laughed and slapped Lou on the back as he straightened up.

“The hard part’ll be gettin’ off,” Lou joked as
he took a seat beside Blythe and held on for the ride to the island.

The rescue boat rocked from side to side in the
choppy ocean waters, making the ride seem even longer than Blythe had
anticipated. As they drew closer to the island, it stood grander than she’d
envisioned, the lack of vegetation caused by the previous year’s wildfires
having taken their toll on the overall aesthetics. The landscape looked low and
barren in patches; lush and overgrown in others. The steep crests and gullies
that skirted the waterline made the island look unapproachable, the natural
barrier a way to keep outsiders away. If the crests and gullies weren’t
uninviting enough, the jagged rocks protruding from the shallow waters around
the island were. A boat would be ripped to shreds if it happened to drift in
the wrong direction. It would only take a split second to be stranded on Target
Island. Blythe said the name again in her head as a chill traced through her.
The interview would only take a couple of hours and then they’d be on their way
home. The less time with the Chief meant less chance of him discovering who she
was…and the less chance of her heart allowing him access.

“You see,” Chief
Kalani pointed as he steered the boat gingerly around the protruding rocks
toward the dock. “Faults and dikes are everywhere from the thousands of shells
that dropped on the island over the years. Cliffs and deep grooves from heavy
rain and erosion make it even more dangerous. We’ll have to be careful. This
island’s like a giant war-wound, all scarred and fragile. It’s certainly not
what it used to be.”

“It needs savin’,
that’s for sure. There’s no respect for nature, man,” Lou added.

“Everyone should
embrace the island ways and nurture what they have, take pride in the beauty,”
Chief Kalani said and Lou nodded.

Blythe suddenly felt
very mainland indeed.

Chief Kalani sidled the boat up beside the dock
as Lou reached out and tied rope to two rusty metal loops to secure it.
 
Blythe held Lou’s hand as she stepped
from the still swaying boat onto the solid dock.

“I’ll unload my camera stuff while you guys look
around a bit, figure out where you want me to film you.”

“Sounds good,” Chief Kalani said as he
practically jumped from the boat to the dock effortlessly. He turned to face
Lou. “You need help hauling that load out?”

“You talkin’ about me or my camera?” Big Lou
chuckled and waved them away. “I’ll be fine. Just holler when you need me. And
hey, careful in those, city girl.” Lou pointed to Blythe’s high wedge sandals.
“You’ll twist an ankle. Maybe the Chief can give you a piggy-back.” Lou giggled
from the depths of his large frame and rocked back on his heels before
lumbering to the front of the boat.

Blythe glanced at Mak who smiled and held out
his arms. “Hop on.”

“Um, no. Thanks.”

“Suit yourself.”

His full lips teased into a smile that
automatically made your own lips pull at the corners. His energy was palpable,
his positive vibe overflowing. Given these outward qualities, Blythe couldn’t
help but wonder what this guy had to be so happy about. For someone surrounded
by a curse that wouldn’t rub off, you’d never know by looking at him. Humor and
compassion shone in those brown eyes. He was a complete anomaly.

Walking side-by-side down the wooden dock and up
a long winding dirt path with their arms almost touching, he stopped on top of
a rough soil ridge overlooking the ocean. Blythe followed his lead, turning to
take in the breathtaking view. The short climb had her winded, the midday heat
beating down on the crown of her head mercilessly.

“I should have brought a hat,” she sighed,
wiping the beaded perspiration from her forehead. She glanced at Chief Kalani
who stood comfortably on the path, his hands on his hips in an athletic stance.
His aviator sunglasses, tanned skin, and white shirt with rolled sleeves made
him look like he’d just stepped off the pages of GQ magazine. The shirt was
tucked neatly into navy cargo pants that hung relaxed down to his warn-in
hiking boots. His attire screamed rugged, capable firefighter, but also relaxed
island native. He clearly belonged in this environment.