Mr. Saru had paid for the boxes of my stuff to be Fed Ex shipped to his office. They would get there a day or two after I arrive. Emiko and I went out to dinner at Brew Moon. Later at home she was the most passionate she had ever been with me, the way she wrapped her legs around my hips, her arms around my neck and fell asleep holding onto me as if to never let go.
“Three hours left until we get to Guam” a raspy voice calls out from behind me. I look back and see Nestor sitting up in one of the seats. “Did you sleep?” he asks.
“No, I can’t sleep, I am too excited to sleep.” I say to him. I wonder if I can get a flight back to Hawaii. I wonder if it’s too late to tell Mr. Saru that I just want to check it out for two weeks and then go back home. Fuck, I can’t believe I am doing this. Nestor puts on his headset and turns his attention to the in flight movie. I hadn’t paid any attention when the first in flight movie ended and the second one began. I didn’t even take any of the in fight meals. Julia is the name on the nametag of the flight attendant standing here. I barely understood her but I think she was asking me if I wanted a snack. I tell her no. I just don’t feel hungry. Julia just smiles and I return to my daydream of the last few days.
I spent last night and all of this morning with Emiko. The morning started off normal enough but as the day wore on somberness enveloped us although we tried to ignore it. We went to Goma Tei Ramen at Ala Moana Mall for lunch and Emiko’s mom ate lunch with us. It was my first time meeting her mom and I was surprised even though she told me that we would be meeting her mom at the mall. For some reason I had thought she said something about eating saimin at Mom’s Café. Today was the very first time I met any of Emiko’s family. Lunch was filled with laughter and great conversation. Her mom told stories about Emiko growing up. Mrs. Satou even asked me about growing up in California. She seemed to know a lot about me. I wasn’t really shocked as much as I was flattered. Emiko actually talked about me with her mom. Until now I never realized that she felt so strongly about me. From the restaurant we went directly to the airport and then it was a whirlwind of checking in, getting to the gate, boarding the plane and take off and now realizing that I haven’t eaten since lunch, hunger is making me regret passing up on the in flight meals and snacks. I have a bag of trail mix in my backpack that I bought when Emiko and I went to the Longs Drugstore at Ala Moana Mall before we had lunch. As I unzip my backpack I see the unopened envelope from Jay. After my last workout with Jay, I told him that I didn’t want to say goodbye, so he hugged me and shook my hand. “You’re a little shit. Call me when you get to Guam.” He had said as he handed me an envelope with a card. I rip open the side of the envelope and take out the card. Jay has written a note and included a gift card and a hundred dollars cash. I stick the card back into my backpack and put the money into my pocket. I pull out the latest issue of Maxim magazine and begin flipping through the pages before closing my eyes. Closing my eyes I imagine Emiko, I can still smell the pikake lei I gave her this morning, I can still see the warmth in her eyes, standing at the airport, I can still hear her voice whispering “I love you.”
“We will be landing in fifteen minutes” says Julia, staring down at me with a smile “Please set your seat in the upright position and fasten your seatbelt.”
“Yah, ok, thanks” I smile back. I must have been asleep for awhile. The Maxim magazine is strewn open on the seat next to me. I fasten my seatbelt and start to feel a bit overwhelmed. The only people I know on Guam are here on this plane with me. Mr. Saru is friendly enough, but Nestor is aloof. Although he is cordial, he gives me the impression that he does not want to be my friend. Maybe it’s because I am about to become his boss. Fuck, I have no idea where I am staying. Mr. Saru said that I would be staying at a hotel but all I know for sure is that I am going to a party at Mr. Saru’s house. I don’t have any friends here. I’m alone. That thought loops through my head as the plane descends and lands at the A.B. Won Pat International Airport. After spending the last seven hours flying over the Pacific Ocean, I have finally arrived on the island of Guam. What the hell am I doing here?
Chapter 2. Fiesta!
“Buenas Noches, Hafa Tatatmanu hao? I just said Hello, Welcome and asked how you are in Chamorro, pahtnaaaah. Chamorro is the name of the indigenous people of Guam, like me. Also, Chamorro is our language. I am Mr. Randolph Colpio but please, call me Randy. I am Elisa’s cousin” says the man standing before me. He’s well dressed in a white designer suit and Gucci sunglasses, a guy who looks like he stole his wardrobe from Tony Montana the main character of the movie ‘Scarface’. He’s standing here staring at me as if I should know him.
“Elisa Ke’gacha Saru?” He asks, as if he is quizzing me.
Exasperated, he lets out an overly dramatic sigh and says “Mr. Saru’s wife, Mrs. Elisa Saru, she is my cousin. You are the new manager of Tropics Gym, yes?” he asks.
I smile and nod, not quite sure how else to react. His tone switches from disappointment to excitement as he says “Welcome, pahtnaaaah, welcome to the Saru’s home. Mr. and Mrs. Saru will be down to greet you very soon.” I take his extended hand and shake it.
“Pahtnaaaah” he says, drawing out the word partner while shaking my hand. “Welcome, welcome, welcome, come inside and meet everyone.”
Walking into the Saru’s house is like walking into the Ritz Carlton Coconut Grove, it’s enormous and full of life, an imitation of an Italian villa, complete with ceramic tile flooring and a spectacular spiral staircase in the heart of the entry way. I follow Randy into a large room where I am surprised by the size of the partying crowd. There must be forty or fifty people in this room. Some people are standing around the perimeter; others are sitting on the couches encircling a stage with a large screen karaoke machine. A woman is onstage singing along in with the karaoke system. Words scroll across the screen as she attempts to keep up. It looks vaguely like Spanish or Tagalog but it must be Chamorro. Two men and a woman are sitting on the stage encouraging the singer with loud clapping and cheering. Others are singing along. There are several servers with trays of drinks. Across the room I see Nestor sitting on a couch talking with a group of people so I walk over and take a seat. Nestor is talking about his workouts with Fernandez and the great time he had in Honolulu. He glances over and nods at me. Alan, the government security guard and driver is sitting across from me and he also nods. “Whas up? How you like Guam?” he asks taking a sip of beer. I don’t want to tell him that I feel awkward. “So far, I really like it. Mr. Saru has a beautiful home” I say.
‘Yah, yah, Saru’s get the best of everything. You lucky you work with Mr. Saru” Alan says, putting the beer bottle to his mouth and looking around, scanning the room, keeping an eye on everyone. I can’t tell if he is actually drinking the beer or using it as a prop. He takes a swig of beer, swallows hard, cringing like someone who doesn’t regularly drink beer and then continues scanning the room. Finally he looks back at me and continues telling me again that I am lucky to work for Mr. Saru.
“Saru family owns most the commercial property on the island. Mr. Saru can get anything. You know? He can do anything he wants too. Mr. Saru is pahree with Carl Segura, the governor.”
“What is a pahree?” I ask.
“Pahree is one best friend, like family but not a real brother. Mr. Saru is pahree with the governor so he can do anything.”
That revelation answered the question that I had since getting off the plane. I first met Alan and his coworker, DJ, about an hour ago, when I walked off the plane. They were waiting to greet us at the airport. I could have predicted the huge Hafa Adai Welcome to Guam sign as I walked off the jet bridge, but seeing Mr. Saru standing between two men, both large islanders wearing police badges on lanyards that hang over brightly colored aloha shirts was a bit unexpected. Mr. Saru introduced me to both men. DJ is a five foot ten, three hundred pound gorilla with a badge and a gun. Alan is a five foot four, two hundred plus pound meathead also armed and shielded. Mr. Saru explained that DJ and Alan are security officers for the governor of Guam. Alan is a full time security specialist and both men are SWAT police officers. They met us at the airport to provide security and an escort back to Mr. Saru’s house.
At the airport, the line of people waiting to pass through customs