  “Did you get a good look at your attacker, Biff?” Tom Brewster asked his son. “Gee, Dad. He came at me too fast. And it was fairly dark in the room.” “I was wondering. Perez Soto—you know, the man I pointed out to you at the dinner—well, he wasn’t at the reception afterward. I thought he might have followed you boys.” “I don’t think so, Dad. Perez Soto is a good-sized man. Husky. This fellow I had the hassle with was smaller, I think.” “And that Mr. Perez Soto,” Li added, “he was wearing a white dinner jacket. This man wasn’t.” “He could have changed, son,” Hank Mahenili pointed out. “Li’s right, though,” Biff said. “I think we both will agree that it wasn’t Perez Soto.” “All right, boys. Better get to bed. It’s late, and tomorrow’s going to be a big day.” It was a big day, and it ended with a bang. The engineering conference had wound up the night before with the dinner at which Biff’s father spoke. This day, the day following, Hanale Mahenili had invited a selected group from among those who had attended the conference to a luau at his house. The prospect of going to the luau, the traditional Hawaiian feast, especially one cooked by a native of the island, was exciting. Hank Mahenili had been up early to get things under way. He was going to supervise the cooking of the luau personally. It took all day to prepare a luau properly, and when Hank Mahenili did something, he did it right. Biff and Li helped with the early preparations. They dug a deep pit in which a pig would be roasted. “Anything else we can do, sir?” Biff asked. “Not now, Biff,” his Hawaiian friend replied. “Then how about a swim, Li?” Biff inquired. “Want to try real surfing this morning?” Li asked. “Do I! Let’s go.” Since Biff had arrived, the boys had swum before breakfast, after breakfast, and practically all their free time. Li was an expert swimmer, especially under water. At first, Biff became worried when his new friend dived and seemed to remain under water long past the safety point. But always, Li’s laughing face would break the water just when Biff was about to dive for him. Biff and Li hit the water and swam out into the ocean with powerful strokes. Biff was just a bit faster than Li. They took the plunge first to loosen up their muscles and became accustomed to the water. Next they tackled the surfboards. Li swam most of the way back under water. “You still worry me, Li. I don’t know how you can hold your breath that long,” Biff remarked as the boys walked up the beach. “Just practice, Biff. I’ve been doing it since I could walk, I guess. Dad tells me I could swim before I could walk.” The boys paused to watch an outrigger come plunging toward the shore atop a long, rolling wave. The outrigger was being paddled furiously by two Hawaiian boys. On one side of the canoe, its outrigging extended out in two arching arms, connected by a buoyant float of wiliwili wood to give the slender canoe more stability. The canoe ground ashore, and its laughing passengers scrambled out. “All set, Biff? Ready to make a real try at it today?” “By me that’s fine. I think I almost got the knack of it yesterday.” “When it comes to you, it comes all of a sudden. You just sort of feel it.” “I hope I feel it today,” Biff said, laughing. The first day, the boys had swum out to where the long rollers formed, and had ridden them in, their bodies held stiff. Li wanted Biff to become accustomed to the waves. Then they had started with the surfboards. The two boys walked across the beach to two long, brightly painted surfboards made of wiliwili wood. They carried the boards out into the ocean until they were waist deep. Then, sprawling on the boards, they paddled off shore several hundred yards. “Okay, we’ll try it here. Head your board toward shore,” Li called. Biff slowly turned his board until its pointed bow was aimed at the beach. “Okay. I’m ready.” “Let the first few waves pass until you get the feel and lift. Then, when one comes that feels good—that’s the only way I can explain it—start paddling like crazy.” Biff followed instructions. He felt himself being lifted by the first wave, then a second. Now came a huge roller, raising both boys high above the trough left by the preceding roller. Biff started paddling furiously, still lying face down on the board. He felt the wave grab it. The board picked up speed, riding right at the crest of the roller. He had made it! Li was right alongside. The boys were speeding shoreward at nearly thirty miles per hour. When the roller broke on the shallow shore, Biff was tossed off in the foaming breaker. He grabbed his board and held on until the wave smoothed out. “Gee! That’s the most thrilling ride I’ve ever had!” he exclaimed. “You did great, Biff,” Li said. “But just wait. If you think that was a charge, wait till you ride the board standing up. How about it?” “Let’s go!” Biff agreed promptly. Out they went again. Again they waited for the right feel of the roller. Biff felt one take his board. He was speeding shoreward. He looked over the water at his friend. He saw Li rise to a knee crouch, then slowly straighten up until he was standing straight, head held high. Biff tried it. He got to his knees. Carefully feeling for his balance, he started straightening up. “I’ve done it,” he said triumphantly to himself. He looked shoreward just in time to catch a blinding splash of salt spray. He blinked his eyes, and the next thing he knew, he was floundering in the water. Li, seeing what had happened, leaped off his board, turned it, and came paddling back to Biff. “I meant to tell you. When you get up, hold your head high, and back. Then the salt spray doesn’t hit you in the eyes.” “Now you tell me,” Biff said, laughing. “I’m going to make it this time.” They started out even. Li got up first. Biff took seconds longer. He was more careful this time. The tough part was straightening up from a crouching position to an erect one, then placing one foot ahead of the other, and getting a good balance. Biff arose slowly, slowly but surely. He made it. The two boys rode standing up, only a few feet separating their two boards. Li turned to Biff and grinned. Then he clasped his hands over his head, making a handshake of congratulation. He was so thrilled at seeing Biff make it that he forgot about himself. This time it was the expert who spilled himself into the water. Biff rode triumphantly into shore alone. The luau was ready. The guests had arrived. Li burst into Biff’s room. Biff got to his knees, carefully feeling for his balance “Wikiwiki, Biff! Hurry. Everything’s ready.” “I’m wikiwiki-ing just as fast as I can.” “Here, put on this aloha shirt—all the kanes wear them. The wahines, the women, wear holukus or muumuus. You call them mother-hubbards, only ours are brightly colored with big flowers printed on them.” “What do the kids—what do you call them—keikis? What do they wear?” Li laughed at Biff’s pronunciation. “How many times do I have to tell you that every letter in a Hawaiian word is pronounced? Here’s how you say ‘children’ in Hawaiian: kay-ee-keys, with the accent on the first syllable.” “Okay, Li-ka-kay.” “Gee, that’s the first time you’ve said my name right. You stick around long enough, and you’ll be a real Hawaiian!” “What’s your name in English, Li?” Biff asked. “Richard.” “Okay, Dick—let’s go.” The luau was being held in the garden in the rear of the Mahenilis’ home. Under gaily striped awnings, long tables had been set up. They were decorated with fragrant-smelling ferns, flowers, pineapples and bananas. At each place setting, there had been placed a niu, a coconut with its top slashed off, still containing the wai niu, or coconut water, which would be sipped with the meal. Hank Mahenili stood over the lua—the hole Biff and Li had dug earlier in the day—making sure that the puaa was done to a turn. A luau isn’t the real thing without a roast pig. “All ready, everyone,” Hank called out, and started cutting pieces of the pig. The meat was so tender it fell apart. Hank placed the meat on ti leaves, and servants carried it to the tables. “What a meal!” Biff said, finding his place beside Li. “Never saw so much food.” In addition to the puaa, there was a umeke, a small bowl, of poi—taro root pounded to a paste. There was a dish, called pa, of lomilomi—salmon, which didn’t look a bit like salmon, since it had been shredded and kneaded into a salad. There was also a dish of moa, chicken cooked in coconut juice, and another pa of opihi, a small, delicately flavored shell fish. This wasn’t all. There were pas of i’a, fish, and sweet potatoes, called uwala kalua. “If I eat all this, I’ll explode,” Biff said. “Here, have some of this,” Li said. “What is it?” There was a suspicious look on Biff’s face. “It’s delicious. Called limu.” Biff took a small bite. His face lit up. “It’s good. But what is it?” “Seaweed,” Li said and burst out into laughter. “Honestly. This is seaweed?” “That’s right. Not the kind you know, though. This is an edible seaweed.” “I’ll say it’s edible. Give me more.” Everywhere one looked, Mahenili’s guests were devouring the food. Strange though some of it looked, no one could deny the food’s succulence. People were falling to as if they hadn’t eaten for days. Biff took one final bite and sat back. “Couldn’t eat another thing if I had to. Don’t think I’ll ever want to eat again.” He looked at his friend and smiled. “Mahalo, aikane. Thanks, friend.” Biff’s attention was attracted by a Hawaiian, not in luau dress, but in business clothes, coming across the garden. He saw the man approach Mr. Mahenili. “Who’s that?” Biff asked, nudging Li. Li looked, and his face became serious. “Golly. That’s Mr. Kapatka. I wonder what he’s doing here.” “And just who, aikane, is Mr. Kapatka?” Biff asked. “He’s the chief of the Honolulu police.” |
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