Joe Burkes Last Stand | Page 8

chair and remembered his new bag. He pictured
himself packing it and realized that he was going to Hawaii. That was
why he bought the bag, although he hadn't known it at the time. There
were complications: the truck, what to bring, what to do when he got
there. But that was where he was going.

3
As the plane banked over Diamond Head, green at that time of year,
tears came to Joe's eyes. Hawaii is so beautiful, so far out to sea, that he
felt lucky just to be there.
When he stepped from the plane, the light perfume of plumeria and the
warm breeze were like old friends. He had credit cards and a few bucks
in the market, but he might have been thirty again, driving a cab,

hoping for a load to the Kahala and a big tip. He rode the city bus into
Waikiki, the Filson bag on his lap, and rented a room for a week on
Kuhio Avenue--a concrete block room with a four foot lanai, a tiny
refrigerator, and a hot plate.
An hour later he was beneath the banyan tree at the Moana beach bar.
Gilbert was still tending bar. "Gilbert, you haven't changed a bit."
Gilbert was from Honolulu, medium sized with dark hair and dark eyes.
He could have been from anywhere. His square features were
professionally neutral; his smile was quick and ironic, under control.
"Your eyes going," Gilbert said.
Joe ordered a mai tai for old time's sake. Sunset is a three hour show in
Waikiki. Joe stayed until the end--the last high smudge of crimson
snuffed out in darkness, the Pacific reduced to the sound of waves
collapsing along the beach.
On his way back to the hotel, a woman in a mini skirt asked if he
wanted a date.
"Not tonight. But if I did . . . "
"I'll be here tomorrow." She had large teeth, a big smile. He didn't want
a date, let alone that kind of date, but he felt a rush of warmth; it's hard
not to like someone who is willing to hold you, even if only for money.
The warmth followed him into bed and softened the sounds of car
horns and distant sirens.
In the morning he had a solid hangover. He trudged out of Waikiki to
the shopping center and ate breakfast in a coffee shop that served the
best Portuguese sausage on the island, made, he was told, by an elderly
couple whose identity was secret. He bought a bus pass valid for the
rest of November. The Honolulu bus system reaches around the island,
across the island, up the ridges, and deep into the separate valley
neighborhoods. Workers and students commute by bus. Kids give up
their seats to the elderly.

Joe quartered around the city like a hunting dog. Twenty-five years
earlier the State bird was said to be the crane. Now, it was an
endangered species. The city was quieter. He found himself returning
to Makiki, a neighborhood of low rise apartment buildings and
condominiums on a steep hillside, half an hour's walk, in different
directions, to the university and to the Ala Moana Shopping Center. It
was beautiful there at night, the buildings lit above and below each
other like modern cliff dwellings. A week after he arrived, he rented a
one bedroom apartment on Liholiho Street, telling the realtor that he
had a degree from the university--which was true--and that he was
retired, which didn't sound right. "Semi-retired," he amended.
It was a bare bones apartment on the third floor with a lanai that faced
mauka, toward the mountain. Joe bought a plastic chair, a round cafe
table, and an hibachi for the lanai. Batman made himself comfortable
on the table. Joe constructed a table in the kitchen/dining room from
pine boards and milk crates. He bought a foam camping mattress,
sheets, a light comforter, a pillow, and a reading lamp for the bedroom.
For the kitchen, he bought a toaster, a tea kettle, a pot for cooking rice,
and a wok. He set up a minimalist home: one plate, a bowl and a mug,
chopsticks. He splurged on an eight inch chef's knife. After a week of
moving the plastic chair in and out, he bought a straight backed
wooden chair for inside. He bought an exercise mat which he left
spread out in the main room.
It was fun to start over in this way, owning only what he needed for his
new life, whatever that was going to be. After some consideration, he
bought a compact sound system and a TV for news and sports. He ate
rice and fish, bought vegetables at the farmers market, and walked on
the beach. The beach belongs to the people