Read 4 Kaua'i Me a River for Free Online

print cushions. If Hatch wanted to play tourist
for a couple of days he’d certainly picked the right place to do it. And I was
happily tagging along. After all, even though I’d been born in Kaua'i, it was
no longer home. I was a visitor. And I was going to take advantage of all the
perks that visitors take for granted. For the next couple of days I was going
to eat whatever I wanted, drink more adult beverages than I should, and lie
around until my body begged to be vertical.
    “The website said this place has
a two million-dollar workout facility,” Hatch said. “Want to go check it out?”
    “Not hardly.”
    While Hatch went to do his body
good, I plopped down on the lanai to catch a few rays. I had two more days
to relax before the lawyer meeting in Hanalei. For all I knew, this might be my
last few days of idyllic ignorance. On Wednesday I’d be forced to abandon my gauzy
made-up family history and embrace the prickly truth about who I was. Worse,
I’d have to face the ugly truth about why my mother just had up and died at the
tender age of twenty-five.  

 
     
    CHAPTER
5
     
    When I awoke Tuesday morning,
Hatch was already in the kitchen. I tip-toed toward the bathroom to make myself
presentable, but he stepped in front of me before I got there.  
    “Two sugars, extra creamer,” he
said handing me a cup of coffee.
    “ Mahalo ,” I said. I could
only imagine what I looked like after the three mai tais I’d sucked down
at dinner the night before, but Hatch seemed to take my disheveled appearance
in stride.
    We sat on the sofa and sipped
our coffee. The coffee table was littered with stacks of tourist information
Hatch had picked up from a display in the lobby. He picked up a handful of brochures
and fanned them out in front of me.
    “How about a helicopter ride?”
he said. “You ever been up in a chopper?”
    I didn’t want to let on I’d gone
on my first helicopter ride six months earlier with Ono Kingston, a friend of
mine who’d made it clear he’d like to take our relationship to the next level. 
 
    “I bet this island’s gorgeous
from the air,” I said, avoiding the question.
    “Yeah. This is the perfect place
for helicopters,” Hatch said. “Lots of inaccessible cliffs and tons of great waterfalls.
You don’t think you’ll get airsick or anything, right?”
    I screwed up my face. “Airsick?
Are you serious?” Hatch knew I’d worked as a federal air marshal after college.
In air marshal training they’d thrown everything they had at us to make us get
sick, disoriented or scared. I passed without a whimper. No way I’d give them
the satisfaction. I still say they pushed the female recruits twice as hard as
the guys.
    “Great,” he said. “Which company
do you want to go with?” He plucked out three brochures.
    I put down my coffee mug. “Let’s
take this one, Safari Helicopters,” I said. “They say they have the smoothest
ride. I’ll be fine, but I don’t want you tossing your plate lunch if we hit a
downdraft.”
    An hour later we pulled up at the
helicopter tour office. The tour began with an entertaining FAA briefing about
wearing the life preserver, how to enter and exit the aircraft and what to
expect on the ride. I think ‘entertaining’ was the operative word, since it
seemed they’d learned if you want people to pay attention to the safety
information you need to present it in an amusing way.
    “Okay guys and gals,” said the
briefing guy. “The ride you’re about to go on is all about color. We got green
in the valleys and our beautiful blue sky and ocean. We even got pink, red and
brown up in Waimea Canyon. But in the unlikely event of a water landing, do you
know what your favorite color will be?” He reached down and picked up a bright yellow
pouch the size of a hardback book. “That’s right, people—sunshine yellow!” He
demonstrated how to don the vest over your head and clip on the waist belt.
“Now for those who are worried about packing