From da Big Island Read online

  ✽✽✽

  A cold wind blew down Fifth Avenue as the post-holiday crowd hurried about. Ruth was bundled up in her designer long black woolen coat and red woolen scarf that obscured most of her face. However, she stood out not only wearing her designer outfit, but due to her walking significantly slower than others, moving at a snail’s pace. A few people recognized Ruth, smiling and nodding to her. Wanting to avoid the attention, Ruth decided she could walk through Central Park visiting one of her favorite spots, the Alice in Wonderland statue which she had not visited in years. She was right; the paths were less crowded except for an occasional squirrel. As she meandered closer to the statue, Ruth heard the sounds of a ukulele and a man singing My Little Grass Shack. Curious, Ruth followed the music to the statue where she saw Michael, a Hawaiian Man who wore Ray Bans and an Aloha shirt over his parka. She stopped and listened to the music.

  As the song ended, Ruth reached into her purse took out a twenty dollar bill and gently placed it into the open ukulele case which had a few dollar bills and coins.

  “Ma-ha-lo!” Michael responded delighted to see the twenty dollars. “Dat mean thank you in Hawaiian.”

  Ruth started to walk away.

  “Aaa-loooo-haa!” Michael said, she paused, looked over her shoulder at him. “Dat mean hello and farewell. Da boss goin do plenny good stuff fo you.”

  Michael smiled and winked, continuing, “Change, she come soon.” before playing the ukulele again.

  “I’m just a little Hawaiian,

  A homesick island boy,

  I want to go back to my fish and poi,

  I want to go back to my little grass shack.”

  ✽✽✽

  Rain prevented Ruth from having dinner on the patio at Central Park’s Tavern on the Green. She sat inside, seated solo at a table for two. A solitary candle illuminated her melancholy face. The remains of her half-eaten dinner lay in front of her. She slowly stirred her coffee.

  The maître de escorted a middle aged couple to their table, as they passed Ruth’s table, the woman recognized Ruth and nudged her husband, who also recognized Ruth. They stopped at her table. The maître de continued walking, unaware that the couple had stopped following him. Ruth was engrossed in her melancholy and continued to stir her coffee, oblivious to anything and everyone around her.

  “It must be a terrible loss,” the woman interrupted.

  Ruth stopped stirring, but did not look up. “Terrible,” the woman’s husband added, shaking his head, “we miss your show.”

  Ruth looked up forcing a small, but noticeable smile. The maître de returned to retrieve the couple. “Please follow me.”

  Ruth took a sip from her coffee. The couple followed the maître de.

  Later, the maître de returned to her table. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Newcomb, I should have kept them on a tighter leash.”

  “Darling, sometimes it cannot be avoided. You did your best under the circumstances.”

  More Time, Please

  The winter was relentless, cold and wetter than previous ones. A cold spring wind blew through the overcast city. Ruth wore her long woolen coat and scarf, standing in front of the modern Upper East Side marble façade of Zach’s office building and gazed pensively at the lavishly embossed Law Offices of Newcomb and Epstein shiny brass sign. Reaching up with her forefinger, Ruth solemnly traced the outline of her last name. Although the tracing of the word Newcomb took less than a minute, to Ruth it seemed like an eternity. Sighing, she left the sign for the entrance.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Newcomb,” the legal assistant said. “Is there anything I get you, water perhaps, before you see George?”

  “No, darling, I’m fine. Is George ready?”

  “Yes, go right in.”

  A stack of legal papers almost obstructs Ruth’s view of George seated behind the desk. The short stocky well-dressed, balding man had on his reading glasses. As Ruth entered, George stood up and motioned to her to take the seat opposite him, smiling he asked, “You like Hawaii?”

  “George, you know I’ve never been.”

  “Now’s your chance.”

  “Darling, what do you mean?”

  “You now own the Martin’s house in Honokaa on the Big Island of Hawaii.”

  Ruth’s was flabbergasted.

  George continued, “What’s also great is the Martins had entered into a ten year contract with the caretaker, Ben Kokua, who lives on the property, and he takes care of the six acres including the macadamia nut orchard.”

  Ruth shook her head in disbelief.

  “It’s the perfect vacation home; you don’t have to worry about anything.”

  “If everything has been taken care of, why didn’t they give it to ... what’s his name?”

  “Ben,” George paused for a brief moment, “Ben has a heart of gold, is a great caretaker, and is, how should I put it, a little inept.”

  “Darling, what would I do with a place in Hawaii?”

  “At the funeral you told me you wanted to get away from it all, right?”

  Ruth nodded.

  “What better place than Hawaii?”

  “It’s so far away.”

  “You’re right, that’s what makes it perfect for a vacation home.”

  “I don’t want it.”

  “It’s prime real estate, in a rain forest, with a great view.”

  “Then make arrangements to sell it.”

  ✽✽✽

  Ruth and Jim, the network CEO, entered her office as she went to her desk. “Darling, I need more time,” as she sat.

  Jim standing in front of the desk, “Ruth, I understand you need more time.”

  “Jim, darling, I don’t think I can continue with the show.”

  “You’ve been through a lot, Ruth, and you need to move on. We can’t continue the re-runs.”

  “The show can go on an extended hiatus.”

  “You realize you are putting a lot of people out of work.”

  “Stop it, Jim. You’re the owner of this network. You will find something to fill the gap until I am ready and you need to fill Sarah’s producer position. So let’s stop playing games, I’m not into it right now.”

  “You know me all too well. For you, Ruth, I will reluctantly agree to put the show on hiatus keeping a small contingent of staff to research show ideas for when you return and we will keep this office for you to use. When you’re ready to restart From the Big Apple, let me know and I’ll get the ball rolling.”

  Madam La Fong

  Madam Gloria La Fong, Ruth’s Earth Mother therapist, wore a long tie-died dress with a Native American Indian turquoise and silver squash blossom necklace, looking much like a born-again hippy, was seated in an overstuffed multicolored bean bag chair with notepad and pen at the ready. The gentle sound of water rippling from a relaxation fountain along with the pleasant tranquil aroma from aromatherapy candles were barely noticeable. The walls were adorned with vintage 1960’s Joplin, Elvis, Woodstock, and other posters and memorabilia. Ruth was comfortably seated on one of the numerous bright colored bean bag chairs encircling Madam La Fong.

  “I hate it here. I hate my job. I hate it that people stare at me. Everywhere I look, I remember things Zach, Sarah, Paul, and I did. I can’t get any of this out of my mind.”

  “You and Zach were together for going on forty years.” Madam La Fong put down her note pad, thinking for a moment. “What happened to you is monumental, there’s been a big change in your life; your world has been turned upside down. You not only lost Zach, you lost Sarah, your childhood friend as well.”

  “Gloria, that’s why I’m here. I’m looking to you for guidance.”

  “It takes people years to get over similar circumstances. Your entire life is changing; you are at the crossroads of life with many paths to take. Over the years you’ve been given crumbs to help you find your way through changes such as this and when you reach the crossroads you can make a more informed decision.”

  “Oh stop it, Gloria. Eve
rything and everyone I love is gone.”

  “Are they?”

  “Yes!”

  “What would make you happy?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You do!”

  Ruth became more uncomfortable, adjusting her body in the bean bag. She didn’t want to hear what Madam La Fong was telling her.

  “You must discover what you want for yourself.” Madam La Fong continued, “No one can make your choices. You have more money than you know what to do with. Think of people who would give anything to be in your situation; given the opportunity to change their life and direction. You have to let loose, let go of the old, think of something you’ve always wanted to do, and never had time to do it. Open up, Ruth, you can do it! What is it that you want or need?”

  “I spent my entire life here in New York or the Hamptons. I’m a New Yorker. And, now I hate it!”

  Madam La Fong observed Ruth showing more signs of being frustrated with the status quo. “Now, we’re getting somewhere! What is it that will make you happy?”

  “I want to be alone! Away from people,” Ruth paused a few moments, “and write my memoirs.”

  “Well, you are not going to be alone here in New York. You said so yourself, you’re too well known, everywhere you go, people know you. Privacy and solitude cannot be found here. You must have a place somewhere you can go. Do you?”

  Ruth shook her head no.

  Madam La Fong continued, “Think of those breadcrumbs that have been laid before you. The answer is right in front of you, and you choose not to see it. Think. Really think about a place where you will have your peace and solitude.”

  Ruth absorbed what she heard, became less agitated, looked up in deep thought, then around the room at the posters, before she focused on the 1966 Elvis Presley Blue Hawaii vintage poster on the wall. Elvis hands out stretched with Diamond Head in the background, seemed to beckon her. She absorbed the palm trees, the beach, Hula girls, the outrigger canoe, and other elements of that vintage Blue Hawaii poster. Madam La Fong watched as Ruth experienced her aha moment.

  Ruth started to grin; looking almost giddy, nodding, and exclaiming, “The breadcrumbs have been there all along, haven’t they? The allure of Hawaii beckons me. The change will be wonderful, won’t it?”

  ✽✽✽

  Ruth closed the door to Madam La Fong’s and took out her cell phone to call George when it started to ring.

  “Hello?” Ruth answered.

  “It’s George. Good news!”

  “Darling, me, too. I’m moving to Hawaii!”

  “What? Joe Baccio just made an offer for the property in Hawaii.”

  “Darling, tell him no and I’ll explain it later. I, Ruth Newcomb, am leaving the Big Apple for good and retiring in Hawaii.”

  “Ruth, you’ve never been there, not even on a vacation. How do you know you will like it?”

  “Sometimes, one must move out of their comfort zone and do something they have never done before; have the courage to take that chance and not be afraid of the unknown.”

  “But, Ruth!”

  “Darling,” Ruth continued, “a new door has opened for me, and I am not going to let it close. This is an opportunity of a lifetime that will provide many new challenges and adventures for me. We’ll need to arrange to put Beekman Place on the market.”

  “Ruth, this is a decision you cannot make lightly.” George retorted. “Remember how many years it took you to obtain Beekman Place?”

  “Darling, I do remember.” Reminiscing for a moment, “There is nothing here for me anymore. I want to be alone and want a place to go where no one knows me. Hawaii is the place. Sell Beekman place.”

  Honolulu

  “We’re starting our final approach to Honolulu International Airport. Out the right side of the aircraft is Diamond Head and Waikiki Beach. Please place your seatbacks in an upright position.”

  Ruth was seated at a first class window seat looking out the window at Diamond Head and Waikiki Beach below.

  The plane was still taxiing when a flight attendant announced, “We ask that you remain seated until the captain turns off the seat belt sign. Mahalo.”

  Another flight attendant approached Ruth.

  “Mrs. Newcomb, can you gather your belongings? Please.”

  Ruth nodded, smiled, and asked, “The captain hasn’t turned off the seat belt sign.”

  “It’s okay. You need to deplane first.”

  Ruth beamed, she was dressed more for attending the opera than for the comfort of flying and glad she was well dressed. She leaned forward and reached under the seat in front of her, pulling out her purse and a nylon pet carrier. Inside, Mrs. Wiggins yellow eyes peer out surveying the passengers. Another flight attendant opened the front cabin door. Ruth got up and followed the flight attendant. The other passengers observed the “special treatment” that Ruth was receiving. A few passengers start to stand up. Another announcement, “Please remain seated until the captain has turned off the seat belt sign. Mahalo.”

  At the door, a man in a Hawaii Department of Agriculture uniform was waiting for Ruth. “Mrs. Newcomb, can you come with me, please?”

  He turned and exited the aircraft followed by Ruth. On the jet way, the officer stopped and turned addressing her. “May I have your pet carrier, please?”

  Ruth reluctantly handed over the pet carrier. The officer took the carrier and started to open the jet way door leading to exterior stairs.

  “Please be careful, the sun is quite bright.” The officer said as he held the door open for Ruth.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Down to the van.”

  “Darling, I ordered a limo, not a van.”

  “Follow me.”

  “Darling, why aren’t we going down the jet way to the terminal?”

  “We have business to take care of. Please follow me.”

  Ruth held her purse up to shield her eyes from the bright sun and followed the officer down the stairs.

  “What is going on?” Ruth inquired.

  “We’re going to the Airport Animal Quarantine holding facility.”

  “What?”

  “I’m here to quarantine your cat. There is a quarantine law to protect our residents and pets from rabies. Hawaii is rabies-free.”

  “Darling, I can assure you Mrs. Wiggins doesn’t have rabies!”

  “I’m sure she doesn’t.”

  “You can’t quarantine her; she’s all I’ve got!”

  “Rules are rules, even in Hawaii.”

  The airport animal quarantine holding facility looked like any other kennel. Ruth was at the counter, with the officer on the other side with Mrs. Wiggins cat carrier.

  “You realize your cat is a little old to be going through something like this.”

  “Darling, I know, and she is all I have.”

  “The quarantine law states that your cat must stay in quarantine for 120 days.”

  “Darling, 120 days?”

  “However,” the officer responded as he started to smile. “If you have the proper paperwork with you, you would qualify for our five day quarantine.”

  ✽✽✽

  In the baggage claim area, a few passengers were still milling about claiming their bags; most were gone. Next to where the bags come out, a door opened as Ruth exited carrying only her purse. She looked around and noticed her Louis Vuitton bags were on baggage carousel. She then spotted a lone limo driver holding a cardboard sign with Mrs. Newcomb professionally printed on it. Ruth went over to him. “Darling, I’m Mrs. Newcomb. My bags are over there.”

  As the limo made its way through downtown Honolulu, Ruth was transfixed as she observed century old buildings next to modern day ones and how they blended so well together. By the time they reached Waikiki Beach, most of the buildings were modern multistory ones, not unlike New York City, but on a much smaller scale, with palm trees.

  The limo pulled up to the modern Halekulani Hotel. A porter, wearing a blue and white hibiscus
Aloha shirt and black slacks, opened the limo door for Ruth. On stepping out, she saw the Halekulani hibiscus logo and noticed the fresh smell of the air, along with the aroma of the ocean, and sweet smell of the tropical flora. Another porter took her luggage from the limo placing them on a waiting cart. She observed people wearing muumuu’s and Aloha shirts and not walking briskly, but enjoying the sights. Some gave her a nod of recognition as she entered the lobby of the hotel.

  ✽✽✽

  Ruth opened the door to her lanai. The curtains billowed as she went to the handrail to view Diamond Head in the distance, Waikiki Beach, and the hotel pool some ten stories below her corner room. She smiled, nodded with approval; the hotel was virtually no different than what she was accustomed to in any metropolitan city.

  She turned her attention to the ocean. In the distance she saw catamarans and surfers catching waves. She smiled and took a deep sigh of relief that she had made the right decision to give up her life in the Manhattan for Hawaii.

  ✽✽✽

  The sun was ready to bid another fond Aloha to Waikiki and the guests at Halekulani’s House Without a Key bar; painting the sky a golden hue with orange clouds on the horizon only added to the beauty of the approaching sunset. Ruth, dressed in a designer evening dress, was seated at a table under palm trees swaying with the trade winds, sipping a Manhattan, while other guests enjoyed exotic cocktails with orchids, pineapple, and small umbrella’s in them. Everyone enjoyed listening to a trio playing and singing My Little Grass Shack. While a woman dressed in an eloquent muumuu performed the Hula to the song. The colors continued to shift as the sunset on the horizon. Ruth remembered the conversations she had with the Martin’s about the beauty of the sunset and how Charlie Chan would frequent the very bar she was enjoying.