Authors: Donna Galanti
They picked up the basket of apples and went inside to have a normal dinner.
From then on, Jim was welcome at their home anytime. Most of the time though he and Laura visited at the lake in the morning. One cool October day Laura had finished writing her sunrise entry when Jim and Scooter showed up. They stood together in silence and watched the early morning sky turn from burnt orange to a brilliant blue.
"Mr. B, were you there the night the meteorite hit the lake? Did you see it?"
It wasn't the sort of question Jim expected but he answered the best he could. "I sat on my front porch with Scooter when it hit. I saw it coming but was knocked out from the crash and woke up later."
"What did it look like? Did it zoom down really, really fast?
"It was this streak of light that pierced the sky. It pulsed in a peculiar shade of green. At first I thought it was a plane, but it kept growing in size. The light grew bigger until it blinded me and…then I don't remember what happened."
"Wow."
"But I don't think it was a meteorite." Jim stared out over the lake.
"Really? What then?"
"Whatever crashed that night wasn't all the government said it was."
Laura stared at him. "What do you mean?"
"When the government came in here and took charge, it was like they were covering something up. Too eager to buy up all the cabins. Too eager to get people away from the crash site."
"So what was it?"
"I'm not sure. Something man-made. A secret government project gone wrong, perhaps."
"Maybe it was a spaceship!"
"I don't know about that, but I do know some things are better left alone."
"We should go over there, to where it crashed and look around."
Jim scratched his head and frowned. "The government already came in and cleaned it all up years ago."
Laura jumped up. "I know. But maybe I can sense something about what happened that night."
"I thought you could only read minds?"
"I thought so too but what if I can sense things from the past. Memories and stuff? I never tried." Laura pulled at Jim's sleeve. "Come on!"
Jim gave in and followed her along the overgrown path around the lake to the north end where the crash site spread out. They wound around the decrepit cabins lining part of the lakeshore.
"Wait." Jim called out to her. "It's wetlands in there." But she kept going.
Laura reached the end of the lake where the meteorite fell from the sky all those years ago. Skunk cabbages and cattails now grew in the crater. She made her way to the tall fence surrounding the crash site and ran her hands along it looking for a way in. She pushed her way through an opening and ran forward to the edge of the crater, and then down the hill into the bottom of it. There she reached the small valley floor and knelt down amongst the tall grass to place her hands on the ground. Jim shoved his way through the fence. He held Scooter back who wanted to plunge ahead, eager to reach Laura.
"There was something here, Mr. B. Something—or someone!"
Jim and Scooter reached her side. "It could have been something from yesterday or last month or last year."
"No. Someone was here the night it struck. And it wasn't a meteorite."
Jim shivered in the morning chill and blew out frosty breaths. The day didn't promise to get above fifty-five degrees. "It doesn't matter now. It happened years ago. What if you're reaching for something because you want to believe in it?"
Laura shook her head and closed her eyes, her hands still pressed to the ground. "He crashed here, I feel it. I know him. Not know him as met him…but know of him." She looked up at Jim with tears in her eyes. "So much sadness." She put her face in her hands. "He was here under the ground all alone and dying."
Jim didn't know what to make of all this. He still didn't understand her powers, but believed miracles happened. Scooter nudged Laura, distressed by her anxiety. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him.
Jim rocked from foot to foot. "Who was here? Who do you know?"
"I don't know. But he came here from far away and was so hurt and alone. He'd lost everything and he needed to do something important. And a girl. There was a girl here. I can't see her face though."
She stood up, looking around the small valley.
"Laura, you said you knew him. What do you mean?"
"I don't know. I can't explain it. But I feel someone else is still out there right now. Someone from that night. Connected to me. But I don't know who."
She turned to look at Jim, tears still shining in her eyes. "What's wrong with me? Why can't I just be normal?"
Jim held her and smoothed her hair. "Honey, there's nothing wrong with you. You have some special gifts. I don't understand them, but maybe God gave them to you for a reason."
As far as her question about being normal, he couldn't answer it. He didn't know if anyone could.
Ben watched the curvy, tall brunette from across the bar. She flicked her long hair back and laughed with her short friend as she sipped a beer. Her white teeth gleamed against her tan in the red glow of the Chinese lanterns strung above the bar. Ben could tell she was a tourist seeking vacation adventure in Honolulu's rough spots. Hud's Place was no place for a white
wahine
from the mainland to be hanging out after 10:00 p.m.
North of Hotel Street in Chinatown, or NoHo as it was called, carried its distinction as the known spot for prostitute action any time of the week. He swallowed the last of his beer and laughed to himself. SoHo could be a better name for the so-many-ho's that could be had around here.
He knew.
At twenty-one and after three years stationed at Pearl Harbor in the Navy, he had sampled them all. Chinese, Korean, Hawaiian, Philippine, Tahitian. Anything exotic you wanted. If you liked big mamas you could hook up with fat Samoan women, lurking on street corners strutting their expansive goods.
"Hey, let's get outta here and head downtown." Andy Novatoski clapped his big, tan hand on Ben's back. "Some of the other guys from base said they'd meet us down in Waikiki later. There's a new place on Kapiolani. It's supposed to be hopping. Lots of blonde babes from California seeking some sailor lovin'."
"I don't know." Ben's head hurt from too many Hinano beers and he was thinking of switching to vodka to get good and drunk. It could relieve the dull pain throbbing at his temples, until tomorrow. Hud's Place was not a bar that handed out flowery, umbrella Mai Tais. Beer and straight booze only in this dive bar. It sat in Chinatown's red light district where you could get cheap, stiff drinks, and listen to some decent music. That is, if you could get past the prostitutes, drug dealers, and meth addicts begging for money.
Tonight a hump-backed man, reminiscent of Johnny Cash, cranked away songs on the tiny stage. The place only had a maximum capacity of seventy-five and Ben liked that. It was a dirty, dark cubbyhole where he could hide. Sometimes Andy tagged along to humor him.
"Come on, man." Andy persisted. "Enough of the ghetto Chinatown scene. Let's go where the clean action is. I don't want some old cougar winking her gray
punani
at me. I want me a young thang after some hot sailors!"
"Big, blond, Viking sailors you mean." Ben grinned back. Andy was a magnet for all kinds of women, but he could score easy with the young girls on vacation from anywhere-USA. At 6'4" Andy stood larger than life with streaked, white-blond hair, ice-blue eyes, and chiseled features. He looked like a Norse god standing at the helm of his great ship, sailing into harbor from a long voyage at sea.
Women shivered when they saw him, probably envisioning him throwing them over his shoulder to claim them for the night in a romping good time. All Andy needed was a cloak, horned helmet, and axe to complete the look. Unlike himself. Ben appeared as a scowling, rebellious teenager mad at the world with his slouched posture, dark looks, and hands shoved in his pockets.
"Nah, just a dumb Pollack they can have their way with," Andy shot back. "We'll find someone for you, I promise. I'll share. You can be my brooding sidekick Hank, from Texas. The chicks will think you've been hurt by love and want to heal your broken heart. Come on, let's go."
Ben looked over at the dark-haired beauty at the other end of the bar, glad they had arrived early and gotten seats. She smiled at him and then looked away. He could see the top of her breasts pushing up through her white tank top as she leaned over the bar to get another beer. Her friend said something funny and the brunette flung her hair back. Her breasts poked out in enchanting round mounds as she arched her back and laughed. She looked so clean and white and American.
Usually he came to Hud's to be left alone and drink himself into a slow stupor among hip music. He could always count on ending up in a back room on Hotel Street. There he could get quick relief for $50 followed by a dazed cab ride back to the base. In World War II a night here for sailors involved getting 'screwed, stewed, and tattooed'. But tonight he lusted for sweet sex with an all-American girl.
"Nope," Ben decided. "I'm going to stay here and check things out."
Andy caught him staring at the brunette across the bar and laughed. "Dude, she is so not your type. I thought little Asians wanna-sucky-sucky was more your thing? You know, love 'em and leave 'em in fifteen minutes? That tourist chick won't even give you the time of day. It'd take you fifteen minutes just to get close to her. Forget about it, man."
"Yeah, well, I can dream, can't I? Besides, I'm not feeling the downtown, social scene tonight." He ordered a straight up vodka from the bar and downed half in one chug.
"Okay. But if you keep drinking this fast you won't be able to find a cab to get back to base. You sure you want to stay here?"
Ben smiled at the girl across from him who caught his eye again. She bent down to say something to her friend and looked back up at him. His time here on the island was almost up and he would get ship duty overseas when he re-upped on his next tour. It may be his last chance for a night with an American girl for a while.
"Yeah, I'm sure."
"Okay, but now I don't have my sacrificial friend with me to offer up to the street trash that jacks me up on the way out of town."
"That kung fu grip of yours will ward 'em off. Now get outta here. I'll catch you tomorrow."
"Okay, later, brah. Stay clean." Andy gave him the Hawaiian hand salute and made his way out through a throng of Marines, locals, aged women, and hipsters. It all created a blended, steamy smell of sweat, stale beer, and perfume.
Andy was Ben's only friend. He accepted his moodiness and didn't ask questions. One night on a drinking binge, Ben found out that Andy had been orphaned, too, when he was seven. He lived in an orphanage for two years until he was adopted. They didn't talk about their past, but Ben felt it connected them. From what he guessed Andy had a rough time of it, too. He gave a final wave to his friend as he left the bar.
The Johnny Cash wanna-be left the stage in a spattering of applause and a new band set up for the boisterous, late night crowd. Ben finished his drink and ordered another vodka, a double this time. He'd make sure it went down slow.
He looked up. A tall man stared at him from across the far end of the bar. It wasn't a passing a glance. He had on a black T-shirt that stretched across his muscular arms and chest. Even in the murky bar light his bright, green eyes glowed eerie in the dim light of the bar. He looked familiar to Ben. He'd seen him before but couldn't remember where. The man nodded at him and then disappeared into the crowd, his massive body pushing through the throng of partygoers.
Ben shook his head in puzzlement and wished he hadn't. The room spun a bit. His drink was almost gone already. Too soon. He sipped the ice in his glass and debated whether to get another. It suddenly reminded him of his foster father's drinking, his empty beer cans around the house. He didn't want to think about him. He wasn't like him.
After watching Frank go up in flames four years ago, Ben jumped a bus for Florida. He landed in Orlando, and took on cleaning jobs at resort hotels to live. The day he turned eighteen he walked into the U.S. Navy Recruiting office in Orlando and signed up as an enlisted sailor. He yearned for free education, free food, and a regular paycheck. He had no other options to survive. Besides, he was sick of making minimum wage to sleep in a cockroach-infested room stinking from overflowing trash dumpsters outside his window.
After boot camp, he set off for Navy photography school in Pensacola, which got even better. He enjoyed the white, sand beaches across from his barracks and learning the photography trade. After graduating school and arriving in Pearl Harbor, Ben spent his duty processing Top Secret aerial photos of non-allied military locations around the world. The job was okay.
He enjoyed more getting out of the photo lab and taking photos of command events and experiencing the beautiful island. And not just the natural beauty. He wanted to experience all Oahu had to offer, and in the way of women. A few times a month he would take a bus or cab to Chinatown and spend his paycheck on good music, drink, and a girl. Sometimes a cheap blow, other times the full deal. Tonight he wanted something else though.
If this brunette was a tourist, her time here was short. Maybe she was looking for a one-night stand with a sailor. He had sampled slews of these tourist girls. If she had a hotel room nearby in Waikiki, even better. They could get rid of her short friend for a bit to have a good time. Ben kept several condoms on him just in case. He had tasty ones too for a good blow job. He wanted to keep clean. God knows you could catch any kind of disease from a Hotel Street hooker or even an all-American girl.
Ben downed the last of his vodka as the buzz around him grew louder. The band rocked with Pink Floyd and Santana songs. He had waited too long to make his move when he looked over to see two buff men talking to the brunette and her friend. He knew immediately they were from the Marine base at Kaneohe Bay.
The brunette frowned and shook her head as her short friend grabbed her arm to pull her away from the bar. The Marines were drunk and leering at them. They must have said something obnoxious to the girls. The hard-core looking Marine leaned on the wall with his arm over the pretty girl's head. He loomed over her, a mass of muscle with a razor-sharp buzz cut and a large tattoo of Daffy Duck on his right arm. The leaner Marine grabbed the arm of the short girl while his muscle friend put his massive hand on the brunette's shoulder. She tried to shrug it off but he gripped her tight.
Ben jumped off his bar stool and leaned into the bar as a wave of dizziness hit him. He was drunk and any move to intervene with these two Marines was stupid, but he didn't care. He still had a slim chance of getting rid of the obnoxious grunts, rescuing the girl, and getting some. Or maybe he was looking for a fight. He pushed his way around to the other side of the bar and put a hand on the big Marine's tattoo.
"Hey, jarhead, why don't you leave them alone?"
The Marine tilted his head to frown down at Ben, but kept his hand on the brunette's shoulder. She looked at Ben in relief.
"Yo, squidy, is it? Why don't you go back over there and keep on looking, 'cause you ain't getting any of this."
"Neither are you, jerk off," the brunette yelled, and shoved the Marine away.
The Marine laughed and sneered down at Ben. "I just told her if a fresh, mainland twat came to NoHo she needs to get banged, and real good. And I'm the one to do it. What's wrong with that?"
The brunette pleaded with her eyes for Ben to help them. The music and chatter roared around them. No one noticed them in the corner.
"Yeah, what's wrong with that?" The lean Marine echoed his friend's sentiment with a grin. "Why don't you go back to swabbing the deck, skinny boy? I bet you bend over and give it to the officers good, don't ya?"
A haze of rage hit Ben and he punched the smaller Marine in the mouth. He got another shot in across the grunt's nose when the big Marine lifted him up and carried him out the door, crushing him against the crowd. Ben forgot about the girls as he landed on hard asphalt and staggered up. The street reeled around him as blow upon blow hit him. He had found that fight.
"Fucking squid, who the fuck do you think you are?" the big Marine roared at him, as his fists smashed into his stomach and face. Ben doubled over and fell to his knees. Blood dripped down. He wiped it away as the crowd that gathered to watch spun around him in a blur. The other Marine kicked him in the side and he fell sideways on the street, hugging his waist.
From his view the brunette mouthed, "I'm sorry" as she ran off with her friend. The two Marines didn't notice. They were too busy beating the shit out of Ben.
So much for being a hero. Or winning a fight.
"That should teach you Navy fuckers to mess with
Semper Fi
."
"Yeah,
Semper Fi
. Do or die!"
They gave him one last kick as they laughed their way back into Hud's. No one helped him up. It was Chinatown. If you weren't dead, you were fine.
Ben stood up slow. His side throbbed and his jaw ached, but the vodka flowing through him numbed much of the pain. Not so bad. He wiped the blood from his face and stumbled down Hotel Street. Out of the corner of his eye the green-eyed man watched him. He had his hands in his pockets and leaned against the window of a cheap gift shop. His black T-shirt and jeans blended into the shadows under the overhang. Ben stumbled on. A vague memory of that man from long ago hung in his head, but it was all jumbled up.
Beat up and with no prospects, he needed to find a 'relaxation parlor' and some company. It didn't take long in Chinatown for him to be approached.
"Howzit, sailor? You hurt? Need some
wahine
to take care of you?"
Under a yellow sign blinking 'live nude shows', a pretty Hawaiian girl smiled at him. On the wall behind her rose a giant mural painted rust red of a Vietnamese girl in traditional garb carrying a machine gun. In his fuzzy state, they looked both part of the mural. He wiped his hair back off his face and squinted at the real girl. She had long, brown hair and wore a white tank top over a mini skirt, reminding him of the girl in the bar.