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Maui County
Maui County
Maui County
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Maui County

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In 1980, before cell phones, flight attendants, sterile concourses, and PC proliferation, there were discos, Tab, Aloha Airlines, Fredrick and Nelson's and Liberty House. Always torn between two very different physical settings, Jennifer Hammond's intensity for life got her into trouble and gave her great joy. She loved people and places too deeply.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherDavid Wotruba
Release dateSep 22, 2010
ISBN9781452393186
Maui County
Author

David Wotruba

I was born the summer of 1942 in Bremerton, Washington, where I still live. I ended up with thirteen years of education after high school and started writing fiction about thirty years ago. I am a licensed Marriage and Family therapist in Washington and a Pharmacist in Washington, California and Hawaii. I have only just begun to travel, New Zealand and Korea, but have flown between Washington and Hawaii at least 136 times. By the end of 2010 I hope to have a Kindle Book about the Board of Health in Hawaii from 1898 to statehood, 1959. I snowboard, ski, spend loads of time with four granddaughters, and make Hawaiian quilts.

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    Maui County - David Wotruba

    MAUI COUNTY

    By DAVID WOTRUBA

    This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced or copies made without the written permission of the publisher.

    Published by David Wotruba at Smashwords

    Copyright 2010 by David Wotruba

    All rights reserved.

    Smashwords Edition, License Notes

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    Book cover design by Stjepan Skramic

    www.histerius.com

    MAUI COUNTY

    By DAVID WOTRUBA

    For: Keopualani

    CHAPTER ONE

    As the Northwest Orient flight settled into droning sedation, and the craft seemed to level off, though not according to the Seven-Up on her tray table, Jennifer thought about the events of three months ago when she left Honolulu. She always fell into the trap of thinking that everything in Hawaii had been frozen until her return, although intellectually she knew better. The Pacific Northwest seemed changing and evolving, but Honolulu appeared steady and familiar.

    Her lengthy absence this time made her slightly nervous about returning to her house and job and friends. Counting on Honolulu’s snail-paced evolution, she ticked off in her mind the calls she would have to make and the trite conversations she would endure in order to ease back into her island routines. The steward filled her glass and asked her if she would be attending school this time.

    No, she looked up, I’ve more or less given up school for now. Although flattered by his attempts to engage her in conversation, she was brief with him, wanting instead to complete her thoughts and plans. She discovered years before that only the first two hours of a five and one-half hour flight were useful to the mind. The rest always ended up dedicated to poor quality napping, often made worse by nosy first time-tourists in the next seats.

    Before falling asleep, she replayed each necessary Honolulu action in your mind, the same way she might put a second coat of polish on her nails. Covering her lap with an airline blanket, she dozed off, simultaneously lonely for Hawaii and the Northwest.

    At the Kahala Mall she was happy to see familiar clerks in Times supermarket, but she was slightly exasperated that it took two weeks to remember everything she needed for the kitchen. The bathroom was never a problem but the kitchen drove her crazy the way it demanded so many trips to the store. Spaghetti sauce and Diet Coke were the most critical, but she tried so hard to avoid junk food, and she usually backslid. A donut to her was a full thanksgiving dinner to most people. She just couldn’t afford the calories.

    Her phone was left hooked up and she wished, while on the Mainland, that she had bought one of those little locks for the dial, but paranoia was not important enough for her to pay, so she never locked the phone nor parked her car safely while she was away. She looked forward to phoning Alan and Sharon that evening, and the time difference of three hours in September made it hard for her to wait for work to be over in Honolulu. Pau hana. She had eased into her vocabulary many local phrases in the last five years, not on purpose except to better her meaning; like using the word, folks, which was really quite pleasant and mellow. Debating over Tostitos and granola cookies, she looked up into Jim’s face and was a little flustered and surprised.

    You’re back! He said.

    Just got here; jeez, you surprised me. How was your summer? I’m really -- it’s really nice to see you. You still working?

    It’s nice to see you too. I’m doing the same job, different hotel, though. Have you talked to Alan?

    "No, I hate to bother him at work. I’ll call him tonight.

    This your day off?"

    Yeah. I usually get Wednesday and Sunday, but it got screwed up this week. Somebody’s always sick, or quits. You going to school?

    No, I just want to get used to being back (home, she thought) and get my house shaped up, the car running OK, like that. Last year I felt guilty about school, but I don’t feel that way anymore. You taking any classes?

    I can’t right now. Have to work every other everything. Early this Wednesday, late next Tuesday. Maybe in January. My parents might come before thanksgiving and I’m looking forward to it – and dreading it. But there’s so much jammed into the last months of the year, I feel like Bloomingdale’s between now and New Year’s.

    I get the same feeling, but I like it. Can you possibly give me a lift? I haven’t even tried to start my car yet.

    Sure, be glad to.

    In Jim’s car, her thoughts raced, and although she and Alan had what she called a very fine relationship, she fretted a little over her three month’s absence and its impact on them. If they were. Someone said to her once, If you and Alan get to be an ‘item’ … That made her smile. Although the right age to be involved with feminism, her background didn’t steer her to thoughts of protest movements and women’s meetings. In fact, her background, her upbringing, made her old-fashioned in many ways. At twenty-five, she still believed in having babies, true love, and families. The medical journals which she read; Woman’s Day, Family Circle, Redbook, and Cosmopolitan, all told of thirty-eight year old women having babies with success, so there was no hurry. She wasn’t happy with the pills, IUD’s, diaphragms and psychological devices that women use to keep love from happening. She was uncomfortable with some of the self-sufficiency, belief in long life, and unrealistic goals and ambitions of some women.

    "Give me a call soon. We’ll all have a picnic or something. Jim helped her with her bags of Comet cleanser and Ragu.

    Thank you, sir. I’ll have Alan call you. Maybe we can go to Bellows.

    Putting veggies in the fridge - she forgot Uncle Dan’s for dip - she realized what she said about having Alan call. Why couldn’t she? She could, of course, and the problem was a minor one.

    Jennifer might have liked to trade places with a man from the sixties when a young man would stay in college with the draft as a powerful incentive. Then when Kennedy promised not to take fathers for military service, inexperienced college graduates became expectant as soon as possible and soon were building a career, a house, and maybe a tolerable relationship with a spouse. Jennifer could have admired these traps because they simulated an orderly adulthood, not necessarily happy, but more or less certain.

    Too many choices were difficult for her, she thought, although she valued her economic freedom as she might value a touch of royalty. The University of Hawaii had provided some knowledge, or background; she knew she could assimilate that later, and the dose of guilt she had felt when she laid out of school the previous year had been sufficient for her.

    Sharon, it’s me. Howzit?

    Oh, Jen, I’m sure glad you’re back. Everything this summer has happened so fast, I need an old fashioned all night talk-fest. I’m not at Sanford’s anymore. They hired some gay drippy guy to do windows and I was out on my ass.

    Did you get something else?

    Oh sure. I was gonna take three weeks to myself, just lie on the beach, but three days later I was pinning blouses and lettering goddam signs again. Got hired by Oshiro’s. I work Pearlridge and Ala Moana center. No Waikiki shops, thank heavens. What did you decide about school?

    You know, Sharon, I can’t get very excited about it right now. You now hard it is to get a really good paying job.

    If you’re thinking of me and my M.A. in art, trimming windows, I know what you mean.

    Well I was thinking more of all the school teachers working at Woolworth’s. But I can always take a couple of little bookkeeping jobs this winter to stay afloat. Have you talked to Alan this week?

    No, haven’t really been home much. This apartment’s a mess and I’ve been thinking about moving instead of cleaning it. My new boss seems very nice; likes my windows; not too hot for my signs, but I’ve been trying to do a little extra at the beginning. They really let me do what I want, so I put a lot of extra hours in it. Alan never came up this summer, did he?

    I think he really tried hard, but he didn’t make it. I’m going to ask him if we can plan a three or four day trip to San Francisco this fall. Is it fall? It’s been so hot the last two Septembers.

    Sharon didn’t have the resources Jennifer had, or the desire to spend large blocks of time away from Honolulu, although she said she would go anywhere, any time, if someone gave her a plane ticket. Most people, Jennifer thought, were fairly content to live where they were.

    Jennifer thought, can I handle two losses at one time? Can I handle one? Did Alan really want to come this summer, or was he just giving the reaction I desired? She wouldn’t spend a lot of time wondering. Although the expression, Today is the first day of the rest of your life, was stupid to her, she tried to live each day as if it were valuable. Anyway, she hadn’t found The Magic with Alan and their six months together hadn’t provided what she thought she needed.

    Tracy is having a get together Saturday night in Manoa. Why don’t you and Alan come? We could visit a little and everybody’s coming. Is your car OK?

    Sharon was amazed how easily it started.

    Yeah, it still runs. I’ll ask Alan if he’d like to come. Sounds like fun. Is Tracy OK? Does her Doctor think she’ll have any trouble?

    No, in fact, they think she’ll have a normal delivery, although it was sure a different story a few weeks ago. Her Dr. gave her some shots to prevent early labor. She seems fine.

    Sharon, I really need to talk to you sometime soon. Try to save some time for me some evening. OK?

    Of course, Sharon said, using her best Streisand imitation. I’m not too busy for you, ever. It was 5:30 and Jennifer thought about washing her sheets and pillowcases. She was tired though, and her bedding was clean when she left. Months ago. Wow. How can everything be so much the same? Every time she returned to Honolulu, certain events recurred giving credence to her belief in non-change. That she created these events did not occur to her.

    One of the expressions that she used and enjoyed was aloha aina. Love of the land. But to her it meant the way the land loved the people. Because every time she came back, unless a few days absence only, she noticed after the initial three or four days of settling in, the island earth, the ground, surrounded her with its Liebfraumilch, its gemutlicheit. It was probably a surrender that she allowed, but she insisted that the actual emotion came from the island soil, from aloha aina. It was a very good, sweet feeling, and she usually did not think of it except when in Hawaii.

    Alan wanted to see her right away, as soon as he got away from work. She wished she could be classier and wait at least one day, but her period was due Sunday and she knew with certainty that they would make love within two hours of their meeting, so she told him to pick her up when he finished working. She thought of packing her in case bag should she decide to stay the night with Alan, but she felt funny about not sleeping in her own house the first night home, so she just took her toothpaste and a book she discovered to give to Alan.

    She heard Alan’s VW Rabbit pull up in the gravel drive and she was a little surprised at the way he practically ran for the door. He gave her a big hug, then kissed her briefly before he began a verbal barrage that made her think he must be taking diet pills. She guessed that he was horny as well as happy to see her, but he seemed sweet, and she was glad he had insisted on seeing her right away.

    Alan, I’m glad you’re doing so well. Why would they take you off the camera?

    Alan answered with delight, Because they might let me produce it. It was basically my idea, although I told Stan about it and he presented it to the suits. I may get credit as producer and even though it’s a small production, it might be a start.

    Jennifer had thought, when she met Alan, that television work must be very exciting, but a cameraman’s job at a local network affiliate wasn’t much more thrilling than doing accounts receivable for a dress shop. But Alan was quite animated about his new idea and maybe there was something really good ahead for him, she thought. He always got excited about good news, though, and that made it hard to judge its importance. But why did he call the station Brass suits? No one wore a suit, except the news team, and then only Monday through Thursday. Alan had a lot of Californianess that he’d never lose, Jennifer could bet.

    When Alan took her to Zippy’s for dinner, she couldn’t help remembering the story of Ricardo’s Club 19 in Seattle. She had had a date with a young man, knowing he probably had $4.00 to spend on their evening. So, teasing, she suggested dinner at Ricardo’s Club 19th, near the University of Washington. As she directed the nervous young man in the direction of the restaurant, he hoped that he had enough money to buy, perhaps, a dinner salad and a coke at such an expensive sounding place. It scared him when she spoke of hors d’oeuvres and sake, but after she said, this is at in front of Dicks 19¢ hamburgers, he realized what a classy date she was.

    Zippy’s was a drive-in with a dining room filled mostly with Orientals, located in the area of Honolulu near McKinley High School, facetiously called Tokyo High. Alan was still excited about his 30 minute documentary on Kalaupapa, but he was showing a little interest in Jennifer, even stopping midsentence a couple times, apparently tripping over her presence and remembering briefly that she was, in fact, with him.

    Jennifer might have preferred to be home unpacking and sipping Chablis by herself, but even Alan’s ignoring her most of the meal was tolerable simply because his enthusiasm couldn’t help but perk her a little. It was two quite different days for them, though, and Jennifer wondered if they would make love that evening. She could never be sure, but had noticed many times before that when she thought their lovemaking would not happen - that the chemistry was a little off - they would often end the evening making love. It was nice, in a way, with Alan, but there was never a need to know what might transpire physically on any particular day. It was a warm, comfortable knowledge, the not usually knowing. Anyway, she thought that people who did it every night were missing something important in the relationship. It was OK if there were times when physical love was expected by both, just pleasing that it not always be that way.

    Alan’s apartment was small. Actually it may have been as big as her beach house, but it seemed small. It was so hard to park when she drove to Makiki. Of course, she really didn’t live on the beach, just near it, so she referred to her cottage as her beach house. People from the Pacific Northwest had bumper stickers saying, Don’t Californicate Washington, but one never saw those stickers in Honolulu, though Jennifer thought that some of the problems of Oahu dwellers were brought about by L.A. people who easily accepted the condo apartment way of life. Seattle people didn’t live in apartments and condos. Well, they did while attending school, maybe.

    Alan seem to be pouring the wine a little fast and she was relaxing for the first time that day. The only time she could keep drinking all evening, one after the other, was while disco dancing at Valentino’s. She was sure that she lost more weight dancing on such an evening than Mick Jagger did performing. Dancing was something she did to improve her cardiac health. Music was essential to her; she could have fantasized, did fantasize, spending 6 hours at Dance-Your-Ass Off in San Francisco, then flying to L.A. to hop six valley discos the next night, then Seattle the next night, like an NBA team on a road trip.

    She looked at Alan. It’s been a long, 27 hour day. I hope I’m not bad company.

    You’re doing great. Let’s stretch out on the couch and spoon each other. I’ll take you home soon.

    While she told him about Saturday night, he played with their hair and nuzzled her neck a little. She seldom wore fragrance in Hawaii, but she had a unique odor, maybe fabric softener, Alan thought. Her skin was soft and Alan soon was listening just to her, shelving his excitement about work and remembering easily his fondness for her body. He hadn't really missed her before tonight, but he missed her now. And wanted her.

    Jennifer had wished that the two of them would have grown closer, sooner, and she probably misread into Alan’s behavior a growing affection, that closeness she desired. But tonight he did seem, rather suddenly, to be only with her, and she was quite comfortable with his hand and his warm body curled around her. He slipped off her white short shorts. She pulled his face to hers and kissed him, little soft butterfly kisses all over his face. He understood her desire. She wasn’t very noisy in lovemaking, but she sighed a little, something between mmmm and ooooh. Love was sweet and good that night and perhaps a little better than she expected. Alan had more gentleness than most men, maybe eight on a scale of ten. Her vast experience in lovemaking (two other men) taught her this. Well, at least she felt that way.

    She fell asleep, and the wine and the liquid love, and the tropical magic cocooned her, gentled her, nourished her. If life could be made sweeter, she did not have the recipe, not yet. There must be a lot of places worse than Hawaii….. And Alan.

    CHAPTER TWO

    Punchbowl cemetery, the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific, held only about 13,000 military graves before Vietnam, but during one presidential term the number of graves increased to almost 19,000. Oddly, that same president had been responsible for one of Honolulu’s finest gifts since the Korean war.

    As a young congressman from Texas, he had known about the Friendship University in Moscow, and had thought that America should have such a school, where students from very different ways of life could come to study and learn together. Such a school would provide a broad basis for mutual understanding among nations. One appropriate location would be mid Pacific, in Hawaii. Central to Asia, America, the Pacific islands, Micronesia and Australia, the school would attract students from east and west and would be a center of learning for all the Pacific Basin.

    LBJ saw to it that support was provided initially and throughout his vice presidency and presidency. His foresight and careful nurturing gave Hawaii the East West Center at the University of Hawaii, and it provided Hawaii with intellect and status it could not formerly have enjoyed. Lady bird Johnson dedicated landscape improvements that led to the improvement of the entire UH campus grounds. The Japanese Gardens of the East West Center were always a quiet shelter for Jennifer. She did not easily leave the university community, and her weekly or twice weekly returns to campus found her often eating at the East West Center cafeteria, enjoying the marvelous gardens, and contemplating her moves, her life, her feelings. On Thursday, at lunch at the cafeteria, she wondered why she always returned to the university so soon after getting back to Honolulu. Actually, memories of campus life were not at all pleasant. Classes had been lonely at first, and, early on, she discovered the true purpose of public universities. They were intended to perpetuate its (the university’s) bureaucratic order. She couldn’t understand why professors taught five or six hours a week and spent the other hours attending meetings, or publishing. Tuition was cheap, but she suspected that a lot of jobs were filled by tenured professors and assistant professors whose primary interest was keeping their jobs.

    She had no great difficulty in extracting what she wanted from her classes, but she never felt the University was her ally. Yet one of her havens was the East West Center grounds, where, watching the carp, she could arrange and rearrange her thoughts, as one would move a three piece sectional around a large living room. The Manoa cliffs above the gardens were imposing, and the stream was not quiet, but it was here that she found a certain peace. It never changed.

    Actually, she was thinking about Jim’s parents coming to visit. Because she was not always working and the others usually worked, she had become sort of an official hostess for her group, and she enjoyed her role. There were times when she wished she had a cassette to play, especially for malihinis – newcomers - describing the drive into Waikiki from the Airport, because the patter always seemed the same. But what the hell, she thought, Sida taxi drivers did it for a living, some of them sending their children to Punahou and Princeton on their earnings. She had talked to just such a cab driver once. He was Japanese, and to him it was worth anything to help his son and daughter finish college. She admired his obvious respect for his children and for his wife, who worked 40 hours at Liberty House every week until the two children finished school.

    Nothing personal, she thought, but college wasn’t at the top of her list right now. She would have to talk to Alan soon about the San Francisco idea. Thanksgiving and Christmas in Hawaii may not be the same as on the Mainland, but they were important to her and she would like to preplan any major events before long.

    If Jim’s parents came in October, that might be a problem getting to San Francisco before, and she almost needed to meet Jim’s family. She didn’t want to burn any bridges, even those not yet built. She could easily get along till Christmas without working, but if she weren’t working for a few small accounts during a busy time, she may have trouble in January lining up anything at all. There were hundreds of small companies who could afford her, and there usually was a time limit for the type of bookkeeping skills she provided. Normally

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