CLICK HERE FOR BLOGGER TEMPLATES AND MYSPACE LAYOUTS »

Saturday, October 13, 2007

Hawai`i...


My best friend at Kamehameha had to go away for college. His first year was painful. He wanted nothing more than to come home. I missed him terribly as well. He came home for the Summer. We spent restless days in meaningless and aimless abandon. Nights cruising the roads. Countless nights at Tantalus. Looking over the city lights. Pondering the meaning of U2 lyrics piercing the radio speakers. Alienated in our lives. I'll never forget those nights. I remember when you stole your grandfather's rifle. We blasted down the black roads at Makapu'u shooting up the road signs in aimless drive by acts of reckless bravado. I remember working that Summer at a golf course, carrying the bags of the rich and famous. The lawyers, doctors, judges, celebrities, gangsters, politicians and who's who in Hawaii. I remember making my minimum wage. My paltry tips. Sucking in my pride with every pat on the back or head. I remember you calling me to go out. But I couldn't make it that night. I remember getting the phone call at work the next day and racing my 1966 Mustang home, in shock. Too cool and macho to cry. Dazed, entering the house. Seeing the empty sullen faces not knowing what to say to me. I remember getting in the shower to clean up before heading to the hospital. I remember when the shower hit me. I erupted in the most gut wrenching sobbing I ever had. As my tears fell, mingling with the shower water, providing me a shielding backdrop for my macho pride. The pounding shower hiding my convulsions and sobbing. I cried my heart out until there was nothing left in me to come out. I remember the quiet ride to the hospital. I remember entering your hospital room. I remember your head wrapped in bandages. I remember your chest slowly rising and lowering in rhythm to the respirator. I remember holding your hand. Squeezing. Your cold, heavy, lifeless hand. Sobbing what little tears I had left in me. In the quiet cold room. I couldn't stay when they shut down the machines. I couldn't be there when you died. You had already left me. That night. When you drank your wine coolers. Played the U2 tape. And pressed the cold hard barrel of your grandfather's rifle against your warm sweaty temple. And pulled the trigger. Leaving me behind. Ensuring that you would remain in Hawaii, when school started back up. This beautiful, and sometimes tortuous place. Hawaii. You loved her with all your life. I hope I can continue to make a purpose and reason out of my life. In order to make a purpose and reason out of yours. I also love Hawai`i. And I too love her with all my life...

1 comments:

Lance Michael Foster said...

i remember this story when you told it to me. the choice of a shower head to illustrate it was an inspired one.