Over the Rainbow - Book One - 'The Gathering Place' (21 page)

Walter looked around in confusion. “Abigail, what on
Earth are you talking about? There's no dancing here-!”

Abigail bobbed her head from side
to side and said with a sigh, “Oh good grief darling, give me
credit for
some
ingenuity. You and I are going on a moonlight cruise, and
we'll be dancing off Diamond Head by midnight!”

“
Abby, honey, I'm really not in
the mood…”

“
Yes, you are. You just don't want
to admit it. Come along now... say 'Good night' and let's be going.
Come on, the driver's waiting...”

Walter looked away, casting a fleeting glance at the
waiting car. “Oh- I don't know…”

Abigail fixed her gaze on her
husband. “Well
I
do. Nothing is going to wash away the taste of a bad round of
golf better than fine dining, expensive champagne, and dancing on a
lovely ship- under the moonlight, with me...” And with that,
Abigail firmly squired a clearly reluctant Walter out of the
restaurant, slipping a sly hand into his back pocket as they
approached the waiting limo. Walter swiped it away in irritation,
and Abigail swatted him lightly on the rear in retaliation. Walter
jumped in surprise and then grabbed her arm, placing it gently
around his waist as they tumbled into the car.

Chris watched his parent’s
departure with a hint of wry amusement, and it seemed for one brief
shining moment that Walter’s dour armor had finally cracked, that
he was actually having a good time. He stood and glanced at the
check in his hand, noting with a slight shake of the head and a
crooked smile the perfectly-formed kiss-mark framing the phone
number on the back. As he looked back into the restaurant for the
amorous waitress, a sudden gust of island breeze blew in through
the lobby, scattering leaves and random flower petals across the
floor, stirring his hair and again carrying with it the gentle,
tinkling sound of
wind chimes.

Chris looked around for the source of the mysterious
sound, listening intently as it echoed and faded, when another more
clear and distinct sound replaced it. It was the exact same
drumming, stamping and chanting that he had now heard on two
previous occasions. And precisely as they had done before- the
sounds abruptly stopped.

Chris walked haltingly down the
steps outside the hotel, pausing at random as he almost desperately
searched out the source of the curious noises, the music and chants
mysteriously starting and stopping, coming and going on the breeze.
He eventually rounded a distant corner, only to hear them take up
again, but this time they were significantly
louder
than ever before.

And now he knew
why
.

Chris stopped and stared, the hair
on his head tightening as a tingling shock of a distant memory rose
up from his core, the sounds that had tormented him now
disturbingly familiar- for
now
he had found its’ source. In the courtyard below
him, the Luau was underway, the thronging audience watching in rapt
attention as a dual chorus line of brightly attired hula dancers
emerged from the wings, stamping and waving in complement to the
music. Chris’ gaze travelled quickly along the line to his left,
his eyes riveting on the now-familiar girl in the lead- it
was
Alani
.

Chris stared at her, captivated, a deer in the
headlights, watching her in fascination as she danced. Her
movements were mesmerizing, fluid, hypnotic and sensual- a flame in
the wind, her graceful body and glossy hair moving in perfect union
with the rhythmic thumping of the drums. The music steadily built
in volume and tempo, resonating in the dim recesses of his mind, a
distant echo of faint remembrance, a sharp memory of a time long
forgotten, and suddenly the world faded around him and focused down
to the stage. He felt a sharp tug of connection across the distance
as Alani suddenly looked up and her gaze locked briefly with his.
And as it did the sounds of conversation and music abruptly dimmed
around him…

And again the world
shifted
…

…
Reverend Christopher Jenkins
peered cautiously through the tangle of leaves to the flickering
fire beyond, the low chants and rhythmic thump of drums ringing in
his ears as he watched the scene with a conflicting mixture of
fascination and dismay. Around the fire, a single dancer stamped
and swayed, her hips swinging and arms rising and falling as they
told an ancient story- a story which Jenkins was now all-too
familiar…

“…
the ‘ale
‘ale,” she had explained, “…requires that the arms move
slowly
, rising and
falling, the motion starting at the shoulders and traveling down to
the tips of the fingers- like so…” Leilani demonstrated as she
spoke, her movements disturbingly sensual in their fluidity and
grace. Leilani continued, her voice soft and lyrical, her
pronunciations of his language tinged with a hint of the exotic,
“…after the ‘ale ‘ale, we move into the ‘lewa’, to show the arrival
of the canoes, the movement of the sails, the trees, and the
breeze.” Leilani’s hands deftly conveyed each image, one atop the
other in a perfect representation of the ancient outrigger canoes
that had transported these mysterious individuals here so very long
ago…

…
Jenkins moved to better his
position, stepping closer to see the subject of his study more
clearly. A twig snapped, the sound ringing crisply in the jungle,
and he flinched in fear as the chants and drumming abruptly
stopped, the sounds echoing off into the surrounding darkness.
Leilani’s eyes snapped open, wide with alarm as she stared into the
trees, frozen in the firelight, and she saw him…

And the world snapped back
to the
‘now’.

Chris’ gasped and he caught his breath as his heart
pounded in his chest, this disturbing new vision disorienting him
and causing him to stare around wildly in confusion as he swam back
to reality. He shook his head as his vision cleared, and as he did
he saw Alani stumble on the stage, nearly toppling the nearest in
her line of dancers, quickly recovering and flashing a tight,
half-second smile in his direction, hastily exiting as she led her
line back offstage. Chris strained to see her as she left, his mind
still roiling, struggling to resolve and comprehend this new and
arresting vision, one that he now suspected with a shock of
realization that she had perhaps somehow shared as well.

He paused in introspection of this startling
revelation and then nearly jumped out of his skin as the music and
lighting suddenly changed, exploding into a wild drumming and
fervent chanting as several fire dancers emerged to the wild cheers
of the luau guests.

The flames spun and swirled, the movement of the
fire blending into a seamless pulsating form of blazing yellow,
throbbing orange and flashing white. The ranks of stamping and
chanting men wove themselves in complex patterns of an intricate
and dangerous choreography, finally forming a single line across
the middle of the stage, their brands whirling in unison to the
thundering applause of the audience.

The line of fire-dancers split at
its’ center and Alani emerged again, this time solo, weaving in and
out of the lines of spinning flame, deftly darting, merging and
interlacing among the dangerous spinning flames with amazing
fluidity and grace, and again Chris’ heart raced as the recent
vision flashed through mind like a distant memory. The music built
and built to a crashing crescendo, the drumming increasing to an
almost deafening volume, and then suddenly, quite suddenly-
it stopped
. The stage
went black to riotous applause and wild cheers, and when the lights
slowly restored- Alani was gone.

Chris wandered aimlessly down the steps at the rear
of the hotel, alone in his thoughts, still trying to rationalize
the bizarre occurrence at the luau, the images fading like a slowly
receding memory. But even after they had faded and gone, a
strangely different sensation remained. Unlike before, this time
they had left a distinct aftertaste of emotion, a conflicting
mixture of lust and revulsion, hope and desire, all overlaid with a
profound sense of purest love and underscored with a
heart-wrenching impression of both loss and despair, the feeling so
strong that a well of tears suddenly burned in his eyes and spilled
down his cheeks.

Blinking to clear the unexpected upwelling of
emotion, Chris’ found himself walking next to the glittering azure
pool, where a boisterous crowd of late-night swimmers laughed and
played. He drifted to the pool-side bar and deliberately sought out
a solitary seat at the end.

An attractive, fortyish barmaid approached, wiping a
glass with a towel as she appraised her guest with a warm smile of
approval. “Aloha! Welcome, what can I get you?”

Chris paused, considering something stronger than
his usual, perhaps tonight even a double, and then replied
distractedly, “Beer.”

“
Sure thing. Bottle or
Draft?”

“
Whatever.”

“
Coming right up.” The barmaid
turned, her gaze lingering, and left.

Again alone with his tumultuous, tortured thoughts,
Chris looked away from the bar, taking in the scene around the
pool. Animated conversation between lovely couples, a dull roar of
laughter from ill-clad businessmen, the shriek and tinkle of
children’s voices as they splashed and played only served to darken
his mood, his mind still flashing back and forth between the
memories of the day and the recollections of the strange disturbing
visions, which only functioned to further confuse and disturb him,
and then finally drifting back to the bar, where the lovely barmaid
now set a tall, frosty mug near his elbow. “That'll be six-fifty,
hon…”

Chris dug out a ten, and handed it to her
limply.

The barmaid made change from her top breast pocket,
a golden nametag that read ‘Angel’ flashing as she dug out the
money and placed it gently on the bar, slowly sliding it in front
of him in an obvious attempt to engage his attention. “So- where ya
from?”

Chris replied, still distracted, a crooked grin and
singular dimple creasing his cheek, “Huh? Oh- Boston. By way of New
York.”

“
Beantown, eh? Cool. E Komo Mai.”
Chris turned to her, a single eyebrow raised in curiosity at the
unfamiliar phrase. Angel smiled and continued by way of
explanation, “Means 'welcome'. Enjoying your stay?”

“
It's been...
interesting.”

“
How so?”

Chris just smiled deeper, his
dimples expanding as he remembered the day. “It would take
way
too long to
explain...”

Angel leaned on the bar, exposing a lush and
generous cleavage that Chris couldn’t help but notice with a slight
raise of eyebrows as she said in a lower, sultry bedroom voice,
“I've got time…”

Chris hesitated, considering for a brief moment the
possibilities of her entreaty, and then replied, “Well-” he
started, almost committing to this new course of action, and then
abruptly changed his mind, smiling a conciliatory smile, “Never
mind, maybe later.”

“
I get off at ten,” Angel replied
with a wink, clearly hoping he would pick up on the thinly veiled
innuendo. She gave Chris a quick pat on the hand and moved off
slowly, smiling and engaging an older couple that had taken seats
at the opposite end of the bar.

Chris turned his back to the bar and leaned with
elbows on its edge, sipping at his beer as he snuck an admiring
glance back at Angel’s shapely rear end. His inspections were
interrupted by the arrival of two attractive tourist girls about
his age, a slender blond and curvy brunette, who ordered drinks and
perched on stools near him, tilting their heads together and
whispering pointedly in his direction, peeking over their shoulders
surreptitiously as they did. Finally mustering up a modicum of
alcohol-fueled courage, the brunette leaned past her friend and
addressed Chris with wide, blue eyes.

“
Hi! You just get in? I haven't
seen you here before.”

“
What? No, got here Friday,
yesterday- seems like forever ago.”

The wide-eyed brunette crinkled her freckled nose in
confusion, and then perkily launched into introductions, “My name's
Trina- that's short for Katherine, and this is Jennifer…”

“
Hi,” the blond replied coolly,
lowering her head to gaze up at Chris through dusky lashes. “It’s
just ‘Jen’.”

“
Hi, Trina- Jen, I'm Chris.” Chris
extended a hand in greeting. Jen took his hand with a cool, gentle
touch, silky and smooth, and Trina held him far longer than was
probably necessary, clearly sizing him up as they touched. Without
releasing his hand, her fingers stroking his palm, she inquired,
“So, Chris... your first time in Hawaii?”

“
Uh- yeah...”

“
Having a good time?”

Chris retracted his hand and shrugged, “Haven’t died
yet- so- yeah, I guess you could say so.”

Trina continued chirpily, glossing over Chris’ odd
comment, “Me too... my first time here, I mean. Jen and I are still
kind of hoping to have a good time. I've been saving forever to
come here. Jen and I are on vacation, we're roommates at IU. So,
what brings you to the Islands?”

Chris replied, still distracted, “Me? Oh, my final
days of freedom...”