easily three times my size, looked
scared of me . That thought had me laughing, actually laughing, and
I couldn't stop for nearly a minute.
Frozen to
the threshold, he nodded slowly.
Nothing
left, I just nodded back and smiled weakly.
Answering
the question I’d been pondering for the entire afternoon, he said:
“Aloha.”
“YOU
SHOULDN'T DRINK SO fast,” the man who’d introduced himself as Allejo said to
me. “It’s not good for the digestion.”
He reached
for my tattered shirt and lifted it.
“See?"
Briefly, he hesitated, put my shirt back down then said: “You’re
belly’s getting all distended already. Or, okay, maybe you're just a
little chubby. But, it will get distended if you keep that up.”
One look at
my new friend and it was clear he knew all about digestion. Even so, I
couldn’t slow down—with the combination of a near lava bath, then an actual salt water
bath, I was dry as a dead man’s whisper.
Allejo
hadn’t asked too many questions, and I appreciated that. Surely, he was
still assessing the strange man who’d come to his door but decided that in my
condition—or in any condition—I posed no serious threat. He was kind,
welcoming and hospitable.
Working for
the Hawaiian Volcano Observatory, he had come out to this station earlier in
the day to pick up some audit trails from the vast array of equipment in the
hut. Allejo explained to me—if nothing but to fill the void of silence as
I sucked down water—that despite the garden of antennas on the roof, the
microwave transmitter between this satellite observation station and the main
hub had stopped working a few weeks earlier. He rattled on for a few
minutes about craters and vents, but all I wanted was to sleep.
Inquiring
about the nearest motel or convenience store within walking distance pulled a
smile out of the big man.
“You could
walk there but with the air quality and the heat… well, you’d probably get
eaten by buzzards.”
“You have
buzzards in Hawaii?”
“Maybe,”
Allejo said. “But, I think if you see a buzzard, maybe you’re in the sort
of condition that you’d never be able to tell anyone about it.”
“Good point.”
He looked
to the door, then around the room. If I were a thief, the electronic
equipment in the room would probably pick me up several grand. Of course, I
didn't have any means to haul anything away…
Of course,
this was not my plan, but I felt as he looked at the ragged, desperate
stranger, these were the thoughts going through his mind.
“I’m not
sure you can stay in this place, here,” he said, eyes not meeting mine.
“You know,
Allejo, you haven’t asked me how some crazy bastard like me got all the way out here.”
He
shrugged, his eyes went off somewhere, leaving me behind, and then another grin
pulled to his lips.
“You opened
the door, let me inside and gave me your water,” I said. I tried to catch his
eye, but he seemed to be looking at someone in the room who wasn’t there.
“But that's it, huh? Not the curious type, then.”
“Questions
are only words looking for more words,” he said, blinked, and was back with me.
“Words can be deceptive, Dexter.”
“Not true,
my round friend,” I said, drawing a laugh from him. “Words are pure and
perfect. It’s just the person who uses them that can be deceptive.”
He placed a
large paw on my shoulder and gave me a squeeze. “See? That’s what I'm
saying,” he said and nodded toward the door. “I know everything I need to
know about you now. So, I have no questions for you.”
“Good,” I
said, following him out the door. “I have plenty of my own already that I
don’t have answers to.”
Allejo
drove a cherry red Jeep Wrangler. A man of his size, easily three hundred
pounds, I would have expected maybe a truck, a van… school bus.
He pressed
his body into the driver’s seat and, surprisingly, slipped in much easier than
I would
scared of me . That thought had me laughing, actually laughing, and
I couldn't stop for nearly a minute.
Frozen to
the threshold, he nodded slowly.
Nothing
left, I just nodded back and smiled weakly.
Answering
the question I’d been pondering for the entire afternoon, he said:
“Aloha.”
“YOU
SHOULDN'T DRINK SO fast,” the man who’d introduced himself as Allejo said to
me. “It’s not good for the digestion.”
He reached
for my tattered shirt and lifted it.
“See?"
Briefly, he hesitated, put my shirt back down then said: “You’re
belly’s getting all distended already. Or, okay, maybe you're just a
little chubby. But, it will get distended if you keep that up.”
One look at
my new friend and it was clear he knew all about digestion. Even so, I
couldn’t slow down—with the combination of a near lava bath, then an actual salt water
bath, I was dry as a dead man’s whisper.
Allejo
hadn’t asked too many questions, and I appreciated that. Surely, he was
still assessing the strange man who’d come to his door but decided that in my
condition—or in any condition—I posed no serious threat. He was kind,
welcoming and hospitable.
Working for
the Hawaiian Volcano Observatory, he had come out to this station earlier in
the day to pick up some audit trails from the vast array of equipment in the
hut. Allejo explained to me—if nothing but to fill the void of silence as
I sucked down water—that despite the garden of antennas on the roof, the
microwave transmitter between this satellite observation station and the main
hub had stopped working a few weeks earlier. He rattled on for a few
minutes about craters and vents, but all I wanted was to sleep.
Inquiring
about the nearest motel or convenience store within walking distance pulled a
smile out of the big man.
“You could
walk there but with the air quality and the heat… well, you’d probably get
eaten by buzzards.”
“You have
buzzards in Hawaii?”
“Maybe,”
Allejo said. “But, I think if you see a buzzard, maybe you’re in the sort
of condition that you’d never be able to tell anyone about it.”
“Good point.”
He looked
to the door, then around the room. If I were a thief, the electronic
equipment in the room would probably pick me up several grand. Of course, I
didn't have any means to haul anything away…
Of course,
this was not my plan, but I felt as he looked at the ragged, desperate
stranger, these were the thoughts going through his mind.
“I’m not
sure you can stay in this place, here,” he said, eyes not meeting mine.
“You know,
Allejo, you haven’t asked me how some crazy bastard like me got all the way out here.”
He
shrugged, his eyes went off somewhere, leaving me behind, and then another grin
pulled to his lips.
“You opened
the door, let me inside and gave me your water,” I said. I tried to catch his
eye, but he seemed to be looking at someone in the room who wasn’t there.
“But that's it, huh? Not the curious type, then.”
“Questions
are only words looking for more words,” he said, blinked, and was back with me.
“Words can be deceptive, Dexter.”
“Not true,
my round friend,” I said, drawing a laugh from him. “Words are pure and
perfect. It’s just the person who uses them that can be deceptive.”
He placed a
large paw on my shoulder and gave me a squeeze. “See? That’s what I'm
saying,” he said and nodded toward the door. “I know everything I need to
know about you now. So, I have no questions for you.”
“Good,” I
said, following him out the door. “I have plenty of my own already that I
don’t have answers to.”
Allejo
drove a cherry red Jeep Wrangler. A man of his size, easily three hundred
pounds, I would have expected maybe a truck, a van… school bus.
He pressed
his body into the driver’s seat and, surprisingly, slipped in much easier than
I would
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