“Everyone really wants this shark hunt, but I’m with you guys. Anything that swims in the ocean does so at their own risk. My motto isbe ready for anything to happen out there, and I do meananything.”
Woody nudged Nalu’s shoulder. “This one is a keeper.”
Nalu grinned. “Yeah, I know.”
Cliff ordered a round of mai tais for the table and Minnow saw a look of concern pass across Woody’s face. “Just water for me, thanks,” he said.
Minnow held up her hand. “Same.”
Nalu seemed to catch on. “None for me, either. I’m not a big drinker.”
As much as she liked the guy, she could see that Cliff on alcohol might not be a good thing. There was a volatility coiled beneath his skin that she wasn’t sure she wanted to see unleashed. At least not now.
He looked dejected. “Shoots. Water for me then too.”
They ordered dinner, and Woody and Cliff shared stories about their childhood and how they once hiked with their father from Kona to Kawaihae along the old trail used by the Hawaiians, surviving on fish, seaweed and coconuts. Minnow found herself half paying attention and half thinking about her mother being here all thoseyears ago, a baby in her belly, coming face-to-face with a large tiger shark. How that experience had shaped her and how in turn that had shaped Minnow.
When the food arrived, they got down to business.
“So, I been thinking about how to approach this,” Woody said in between bites. “We can make a last plea to Mayor Lum and talk to this Josh Brown guy and get ourselves on national TV, explaining in more detail how a shark hunt goes against all of our cultural values. In the old days, families had their day of the week they fished on and they couldn’t fish any other day. Kept things in balance.”
Minnow hadn’t heard that before, but she liked their way of thinking. “We could also try to get a judge to halt it on the grounds of animal cruelty or some other law, but we’d have to move fast,” she added. The idea had been brewing in the back of her mind, far-fetched as it was. “Do you know any judges on the island we could call on?”
“Judge Carlsmith. She would know if it was even feasible,” Woody said.
“Where have I heard that name?”
“The guest book. She’s a family friend. Toughwahine.”
Right. The woman who knew all the fish. “Can you call her first thing in the morning?”
“Rajah.”
“I also want to talk to the medical examiner once I’m done with Angela and find out what I can about the leg. I’d like to get a look at it myself,” she said, sick at the thought.
Cliff, who had been quietly stirring his curry all this time, finally lifted his head. “You folks do that. I’m going to put some feelers out and see if I can rally the troops.”
“Rally them for what?” Minnow asked.
“You let me worry about that. I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up. But we gotta have something in place to stop these guys if all else fails.”
Woody frowned. “No violence, Cliff.”
“They the one bringing violence.”
“Yeah, but we take the high road, no matter what. No ‘eye for an eye’ or any of that kind of bull crap.”
“Easy for you to say,” Cliff said, squeezing his fork with a balled fist.
“No, it’s not easy for me to say. But we do what we can, say our prayers and trust God to do the rest.”
Cliff’s leg bounced up and down, and he shot his brother a dangerous look. “Only people I trust around here are you and maybe thiswahinehere next to me. How many times we let the so-called people in power make stupid decisions that serve only them or their special interests? Not us, nevah us.”
It surprised Minnow to be included in his small circle of trust. “If we can prove that there’s chumming, I think we have a shot at stopping the hunt, so let’s focus on that,” she said, trying to sound more upbeat than she felt.
“All these guys, they need smacks upside the head.”
Woody shook his head. “You do that, you’re no better than them.”
