Entering the Unknown
I found a trailhead. There was a big sign from the Hawaiian Park Service. It said: “Warning: Trail may be slippery after rainfall.” My heart sank. Should I turn back? Then I remembered the words of old Carlos. He said, “Sometimes you have to…” I forget the rest. But it inspired me to keep going.
I set off down the trail. Nothing would stop me.
That’s when I heard a sweet female voice. “Hey, you!” she yelled. I froze in my tracks.
I looked down. There, swimming in a lake, was a beautiful native girl. And I’m not saying she was beautiful just because she was nude.
“Let me see your face!” she yelled. I poked my head out between the leaves. She seemed to be deciding something for quite a while. Then she finally said, “Come! Swim!”
I scrambled down to the shore. I took off my flip-flops and shirt and started to take off my cutoffs when she shouted, “No, leave pants on!”
She was standing waist-deep. She was resplendent. Sparkles of light glistened off her breasts, and I guess off other parts of her body.
I dog-paddled out. Just as I was about to reach her, she swam off, to the shore. I followed. She picked a piece of fruit off a tree and took a bite. She handed the fruit to me. I took a bite and swallowed. The last thing I remembered was her spitting out her bite.
I weighed my options.
I couldn’t go back down the river or to the House of Forbidden Aloha, because they would be looking for me there. They’d also be checking the Shakespeare Amphitheatre — that’s where I went to set off my fireworks, because they sounded louder there.
One option was to somehow make it back to town and go on a violent bank-robbery spree, like Bonnie and Clyde. But if my car got shot to pieces, and it was a rental car, would the rental-car insurance cover it? It was too risky.
I could go back to prison and turn myself in. Maybe I could get my old job back as a fake prison guard.
The plan I finally came up with was a simple one: I would head cross-country to the sea, the Sea of Aloha. Once I reached the coast I would get a surfer to paddle me out to a jet ski. Then I would get the jet-ski guy to take me out to a fishing boat. Then I would get the fishing boat to take me out to an ocean liner. I would motion for the liner to stop and take me aboard. If it didn’t stop, I would throw a grappling hook and pull myself up. Oh, yeah, at the beach, there had to be a grappling-hook store.
I guess it wasn’t such a simple plan after all.