Hotel Honolulu

56 Drop-In

A wild-haired man, thirty or so, entered the hotel sideways one blustery afternoon like another feature of the bad weather, blown there by the gusting trade winds. I was at Reception, filling in for Lester Chen. The drop-in looked local but was paler than he should have been, and vague: he seemed like someone from much farther away. He claw-combed his hair with his dirty fingers. He rocked a little in his rubber sandals, as though trying to form a sentence with his feet. He finally asked, "Sweetie 'round?"

It was plain he didn't know we were married. Sweetie was out picking up Rose at school, stopping at Costco on her way back, though I didn't say so. He was too fidgety and furtive a man to trust with any personal information.

"Maybe I can help you?"

"Looking for a room. Except for I gotta get a discount."

You gotta get? No, it was wrong to reply sharply to this dropin. I could not read anything behind his smirk. He was muscular, in a T-shirt and shorts, waxen rather than the hue of fruitwood he should have been. He had that Aztec look of a part-Filipino, bright eyes, bony face, but too twitchy to be handsome.

"If you've got a valid Hawaii license, I can give you the kama'aina

rate."

"I don't have no license."

Never mind the grammar, that was a fact to remember.

"Maybe some kind of ID?"

"What would that get me?"

I told him the rate for a single.

"Then we got a problem."

I smiled, not amused but swelling with the urge to say We? Yet in literal-minded Hawaii, sarcasm was not useful on inarticulate people. Many slow-speaking and stammering islanders were aggressive out of pure frustration. They squinted instead of replying, or grunted, or gaped like fish — all threats. Wordless people can be dangerous, for no other reason than that they are wordless. Chatter to them and they are provoked.

He darkened, rocking in his rubber sandals again, and said, "Maybe I come back a little later."

"The rate will be the same when you come back."

I was pushing my luck saying this, but I could see he was a dim prospect. Anyone asking for such a discount at the outset is unlikely to be a lavish spender later on.

"We see."

It was a hopeless moment in which I knew I was being perceived as an undifferentiated howlie, and now I just wanted this babooze to leave my hotel.

A screech of greeting made me look up. Puamana was rushing toward him, and his face had been transformed into a smile. I had never before seen Puamana look so bright or greet a guest in this effusive way. They must be related, I thought, for relatives have the ability to stimulate expressions like no one else.

"Kalani! How's it? You come back, yah? Sweetie at the school, picking up her keiki. She be here soon, yah?"

They embraced, groaning with affection, a sound like hunger, my mother-in-law and this scruffy stranger patting each other on the back while I stood by clicking my ballpoint pen.

"Puamana, you look so great, seesta."

Just an expression — she was certainly not his sister.

Sweetie returned as they were complimenting each other. Rose ran past me to the back of the lobby where she saw Puamana's cat sleeping on the rattan sofa. Sweetie visibly hesitated before going forward, as though trying to determine in those seconds how I figured in this. But Puamana snatched at her.

"Here she come! Sweetie, look at dis!"

Another hug, more grateful groans. They all kissed once more, then smiled and just laughed instead of speaking.

"I see you already met the family," Sweetie said.

The three of them stared at me, the ineffectual alien.

"And that's Rose," Sweetie said, nodding at Rose, who was tormenting the cat.

"Hey, brah!" Now the man was friendly, more than friendly, greeting me with a handshake and a hug, as though I had just been joyously inducted into the family.

"You related?" I asked.

"Yeah, I wish." Kalani turned to Sweetie. "I was asking you husband for a rate."

Turning to me, Sweetie creased her face in an imploring way.

"Coupla-three nights. I'm on my way to Hilo."

He stood very close to Sweetie. Puamana was still beaming proudly at him. When had she ever beamed at me?

I gave him the rate. He thanked me without turning to face me. Sweetie looked happy, embarrassed, awkward, but she and her mother were clearly pleased to see this man.

"Maybe Keola can help you with your luggage?"

"I got nothing!" he said, which caused Sweetie to smile and Puamana to scream with delight.

"What about dinner?" Puamana said.

I interrupted, saying there was a movie I wanted to see. Sweetie hesitated, then agreed to go with me. It was Howards End, at the Varsity Theater. She hated it, and as soon as she finished her box of mochi crunch and popcorn, she fell asleep, and she cursed when I woke her. Back at the hotel, though it was late and we both had an early shift, I made love to her suddenly, subduing her, possessing her, like a slaver with a whip. My abruptness alarmed her. She resisted, but that provoked me by making me desperate. I still was not finished. I turned her over onto her stomach, and when I held her down I could feel her whole body trembling.

"Go easy." She whimpered like a child about to cry.

"Tell me you love me," I said fiercely.