Alan was walking behind us, bringing up the rear. At the gate, two customs officers came over. They said something to DJ and then one of them used a key to unlock the gate and he held it open for us. Something didn’t seem right and then Alan pointed at Nestor and me and then said “cocaine express coming through!” The customs officers stopped our carts and began laughing. Alarmed, my first thought was that maybe I was only brought here as a mule to carry cocaine into Guam. Before I could blink Alan patted me on the back and told me they were joking. It was all a joke. But the customs agents did let us walk through without being screened. They didn’t check anything.
“I can’t believe we just walked through customs without getting checked” I said but Nestor had ignored me and kept walking towards the parking lot. I started to wonder if Mr. Saru was really trafficking drugs. Parked in the passenger loading zone I saw a line of black SUV’s with blue police lights on the dashboards. DJ held the door for Mr. Saru to get into the back of the first SUV. Alan motioned for me to follow him to the second SUV. He must have seen the look of shock on my face because he told me not to worry, that we were going to Mr. Saru’s house. Nestor walked down to the third SUV and waved to the driver. I wondered if that was normally how they travel and then I was startled by the wail of a police siren and the roar of acceleration as JJ drove away with Mr. Saru. Alan was more subtle, only using the lights and siren to run through the traffic light at an intersection. I had been nervous the entire drive and I couldn’t help but think about how I was alone, riding in the back of a government SUV with a SWAT officer as the driver and I have unwittingly violated the federal airport customs rules. I was on an unfamiliar island, on my way to, who the fuck knows where, maybe a fiesta with my new boss, maybe to jail for trafficking narcotics. Alan drove us into a private community and explained that the Saru family owns the property and each home is owned by a member of the Saru family. He continued to explain that Mr. Saru is the grandson of Tarugu Saru one of the first multi-millionaires on Guam. It’s the same story Mr. Saru told me about himself, but I nodded and smiled as though I was hearing it for the first time. When he finally stopped in front of the house I became more anxious. Even now this all seems too surreal. I have been anxious since I got on that damn plane. Fuck, I wish I could go home and go to bed. I wish I was back at home with Emiko. The girl who was singing earlier just walked over and sat down next to Alan on the sofa across from me.
“Alan, introduce me” she says, smiling at me.
“Eh, Marissa, we talking, you get introduced later.” Alan says to her.
“Hi” she says, extending her hand to me. “I am Marissa Colpio” she says as we shake hands. “So you are from Hawaii and you are moving here to manage Tropics Gym?”
Marissa Colpio says that she grew up in Baza Gardens, Guam near the village of Yona. “It’s pronounced Zhoad-nyah.” She says, sounding out both syllables. Marissa attended the Academy of Our Lady of Guam high school. After high school she moved to the United States mainland for college, graduating from University of San Diego. She then enrolled in the University of Hawaii MBA program and moved to the island of O’ahu. She has been talking at me non-stop for the past ten minutes. She is still talking at me now. “But I plan to move back home after I finish school, I really miss it here” she says.
According to Marissa, the Saru family is one of the most powerful families in all of Micronesia. They own property on Guam, Saipan, Tinian and Rota and they are friends with the governor. Marissa is a cousin of Mrs. Saru and a member of Tropics Gym. I asked her about the business of the gym, if she thought the gym was doing well but she turned the conversation to Chamorro food, karaoke and what she considers the basics of life on Guam.
“What about the snakes? Are there a lot of snakes? I ask.
She is practically choking on her drink, snorting a laugh and waving her hands in front of her face.
“No ways, you did not just ask me about snakes” she says. “That’s too funny, yah, we have brown tree snakes on Guam but you never see any. Not unless you go out into the jungle. Why do all Hawaii people think that Guam is covered in snakes? It’s so stupid.”
“That’s a relief” I say. “I heard that snakes are everywhere, slithering into houses, hiding in toilets, strangling babies and pets.”
“Ai adai that is so not true!” she says.
“Really?” I ask.
“Really Really!” she says.
“I guess I just heard a lot of rumors.” I say. She looks at me confused.
“You from Hawaii, yah?” she asks.
“No. Well, yes, I am moving from Hawaii but I am originally from California” I say.
“Yah, I thought maybe you was a mainlander. Haole, that is why” she says.
I nod and smile at Marissa. She just called me a haole, the island slang for a Caucasian but I think she is flirting. Alan winks at me, points at his beer and shrugs his shoulders.
“No, I don’t want a beer, thanks” I say to him.
“Marissa, compared to Hawaii, how is the weather here?” I ask.
“It’s similar, but a little more humid. I think if you like living Hawaii you will like Guam. Same laid back attitude, but we have better food and prettier girls” she says with a smile.
Before I can continue volleying flirtatious conversation with Marissa, the sound of television static fills the room. After a few seconds the static stops and Randy is now standing center stage holding a microphone.
“Bien binidu, welcome, welcome everyone!” Randy’s voice booms through the loudspeakers.
The crowd responds by jeering ‘Raaaaaaandy”, “Hey pahtnaaaah” and “Hafa Randy?” Randy enthusiastically smiles and continues. “Please welcome the new manager of Tropics Gym” he says, pointing at me. I stand up and wave hello to the room. There are a lot of smiles but the people are silent.
“The Chamorro in this room are all very shy” Randy says with a laugh. He begins clapping his hands and the room comes alive with applause. I smile and say “thank you, I feel very welcome” and quickly sit back down. Randy looks over at me and asks into the microphone, “What are you drinking pahtnaaaah?”
“Diet Coke” I say.
“Diet Coke, we only have rum and coke, okaaaaaaaaay? No? I have a vodka tonic, let me get one for you too” he says, handing the microphone to one of the pretty island girls sitting by the stage. The girl holds the microphone close to her chest as the karaoke system starts playing Aaliyah’s “If Your Girl Only Knew” and with a beautiful voice she begins to sing the lyrics scrolling across the screen. This is like a goddamn Japanese variety show, except this isn’t Japan and it seems like everyone here has a great voice. Randy sits next to me and with a snap of his fingers summons one of the servers and asks him to bring a vodka tonic and a Diet Coke for me.
“Hey pahtnaaaah, I saw you talking to my cousin, Marissa. Did you just meet her or did you know her from Hawaii?” Randy asks.
“Just met her, she seems cool” I say.
“Cool? Yes, pahtnaaaah, Marissa is cool and she likes white boys like you, okaaaaaaaaay.”
“You’re not married are you?” he asks.
“No” I laugh, “I’m not married.”
“Oh good, I can introduce you to some single girls” he says “you are going to be popular around here, okaaaaay” he says.
“Thanks Randy” I say.
“Ok, now let me fill you in on what is happening here. It’s like show and tell and you are the “show”. You are the new manager of Tropics Gym and Mr. Saru wants to show you off to his friends, okaaaaay. There are some of Guam’s movers and shakers here tonight. I am the “tell” so I will tell you who’s who, okaaaaay?” Randy says.
“Okay” I say. This is weird, fucking weird. I just got off that fucking plane and