THURSDAY, MAY 12, 2011
Night
After checking Fry's off of Brokaw for what ended up being a replacement nunchuk (nope not the Bruce Lee kind, monkey) I took a drive to my Cousin's place for chill times and good talk. I slip into the curbs on the opposite side of the street and check the window for the light on inside; I tend to drop by without notice and such an interruption occasionally ends up with a chipper me and a sleepy cousin. Oh cool? Not so cool. Try not doing that, Lackman. But the light is on. Woohoo!!
Foot out. And then the other. Cane out yeah I brought the collared and brass tipped birchwood cheapo-bobo with hair bands on the handle just in case, ya know? Watch that fedora'd head when coming out - wouldn't want to knock me hat loose with my long hair flying every-freakin'-where on the street where my Cousin and her significant other be. Ding dong! The doorbell sounds as I eyeball the door knob then the peephole then the door knob then the kitchen window then the doorknob again. The light is open - I think - so they've gotta be inside, right?
Yup.
"Come in!" my Cousin says.
I turn the doorknob that now has my eyes splat all over it and the eyes splat back into my head. From there I look up to see the who's who.
And it's a surprise.
A rather nice one too.
I stand stunned as if hit by heavyweight contender. Except the shock isn't from fist-to-face pain, nope, the shock is from an intense joy at seeing the wonder before me. Whapak!! It takes wicked effort for me to not jump in celebration and what's left is a sway. And a smirk. I think? I'm not sure as the only thing in my head is that I don't act a fool in front of the one person that counts most. For inside that living room all couched out chilling were my Cousin, her boyfriend and his nephew. One, just one person sat all lax on the floor with her back towards the door. It is she. Pulelehua, yup. =) She looks over her shoulder and spots the fedora'd, caned, black dressed, blue tied (& vest) oh Lacking I sweating to restrain my giddiness. In her comfort clothing wifebeater and grey-black sweatpants she nonchalantly looks back to a laptop computer on the couch with nary a reaction.
Good.
Round 1.
I survived. Awesome.
Door closed and the doorknob now back outside I sit beside my Cousin and on we chat. Pulelehua sits just 2:00 of where I park myself. The proximity burns but I try to keep cool. Try to, hah. I hope that smirk stayed at the door. Again cousin and I drift into chat about any ol' thing . . .
EXCEPT for the One Wahine Wonder that sits but a few feet away from me. Cousin knows of my own admiration for the isle beaut. So does her brother. Aye? I'd rather they know then they get all weird about my getting all weird around Pulelehua. So it's not spoken about when Cousin and I chat because THAT would be weird. Maybe? Ehh. Dunno. If she knew now it would be just that wouldn't it? A recognition of admiration, one-sided as it may be? =P There are times when Cousin gets into a discussion directly with Pulelehua and I find such moments a most splendid opportunity to get a look or two at her with reason, otherwise I'd go just help myself to ogling her all night and THAT would be weird.
Why would I do such a thing?
I haven't seen her for what seems like 2 years. Yow. To step into this and see Pulelehua is providence and quite honestly I don't know if I'll ever get to see her again and I'd like to, yes. Maybe these moments of seeing sweet her will have to last me for the rest of my life? Oh darn, I just may never see get to see her again. So fly. For now these moments will have to do. And I cherish them.
But we don't talk about that.
The Red Wings are finally wiped off the playoffs list by the members of Team Teal. Go Sharks! The party of 4-and-a-half cheer on the victory in their own little ways. A smile. A silence. The thought of applause. The Wahine Wonder looks over her shoulder, pumps a fist and sighs a "yes!" Pulelehua pulls down and takes off her sweater in talks with her brother about further modifying her left shoulder/arm tribal tattoo. In distinct geometric patterns the dark ink is a biting sight. Every shape and check threaten to keep me at bay with their sharp points. This chick ain't about dainty things. She's not a child of sunshine, nah. She tells her brother of fixing the triangular bits. "It's crooked" she says putting a finger to it. I audibly chuckle. With reason I watch again, I am transfixed at her index digit cush pushing tan & tattooed skin, the indentation running across inked permanence rattling my mind knowing my own touch would commit yeah blood fire.
Woosh.
I keep the cool though.
Round 2.
"Breeeeathe, shit-bird."
"Hoooohhhh."
Ding ding ding!
Pulelehua eventually makes her way to the room at the rear of the house to get her tattoo touched up. This leaves me to chatting with Cousin about many a thing. Not once is the admiration mentioned or hinted or slighted at. We talk on and on.
Pulelehua drifts from out of the hallway shadows and back into the living room. She holds a flatcap which she handles with appreciation. There's also a smile, a smile that holds a cheery innocence that one could only call adorable. As per usual my reactions are not reflected outwardly. Though the carousal rush sprint the brain all that is seen upon my person is a controlled smirk.
It's only on the drive back I realized it would have been terrific to compliment her with the words
"You look good."
To her that would seem to refer singularly to the flatcap hat cha-cha but to me a . . .
general statement. =P
Cousin and Butterfly come to an agreement that it's too small a hat to fit Cousin's big noggin' and thusly the flatcap now belongs to Pulelehua. Away she flutters back into the shadows, flatcap twirling with a smile brighter. Cousin and I go back into our discussion with no mention of the adorable. Minutes later I profess my curiosity in the actuality of getting permanently inked. I make my own way into the shadows all the way to the room at the end of the dark hall. Boyfriend and Pulelehua sit with both their backs turned. With a tattoo needle he makes his way to her exposed arm of distinct tribal patterns. Contact is made but nada reveal of pain is seen or heard. She sits there as if it was kindergarten paint being gently brushed upon her. My mind rolling from the casual, super casual ritual of the tattoo - it is I who almost yelps.
"Wha?! . . ."
I walk away from the scene out of the shadows, back into the living room, back to talking with Cousin where everything, absolutely everything is talked about except . . . =P
With the the tattoo touch-up fini, Pulelehua bids the farewells. A thanks to her brother. A goodbye to Cousin. Like an idiot - on the couch, slumpy idiot - I raise my hand in half-waving "see ya", half -waving "what the fuck am I doing?" From 10 feet away *she scrunches her pretty-ass face (Yes, there's no other way to write it. I tried. This was the best way as it's to the point, isn't it? No fluttery poeticisms can best this.) at me wondering what the hell I'm doing and I'm wondering what the hell I'm doing but she follows through, nods her pretty-ass head (Yeah, this too.) and throws out a "Bye."
I'll take that. Woohoo!!
No formal "hello" but a scrunch-faced "bye" by one fine butterfly? Tremendous! =)
Kah-dum! The door closes with Pulelehua having flown.
I immediately turn to my Cousin and exclaim
"Ohhhh my gosssshhh!!!!"
in a relieved release of the gushingly contained felicity. "I'm soooo glad I dropped by tonight! Soooooooo sooo so glaaad I dropped by tonight" I continue as I roll victim to my own bliss and am caught from falling by jumbo couch cushions. "I know, I know . . ." replies Cousin who is fully aware of the depth of the outpour. Turn that tap on full blast.
Woosh.
I survived. Barely. 'Cause I'm flustered on the couch, hah.
"Ohhh my ohh my" I say with the goofiest look of joy on my face. I continue "I'm sorry but I just had to let go right now" followed by a big exhale as if my breath was held at the moment I walked in and saw the fine one who just seconds ago had flown out the door. "Do you . . . " I say with mischievous concern, "do you think she . . . noticed? I mean her back was turned but she did take a quick glance over her shoulder. Was I smiling, ate?" The trapeze thought occurs to me that I may have been standing with a smile that would bridge the entire Pacific. Continents an ocean apart were connected by sublime revelry in celebration of the Inked Butterfly Stunner. And it, I stood in that doorway unaware of the shine like a complete git.
"Was I smiling?"
"No" replies Cousin. "But your eyes were."
"Ahhhhh!!!" Back into the couch cushions I tumble in hysterics, in limbo, howling at true shine now known! "My eyes were smiling?!? That's infinitely worse! Hah haaaah! . . ." Orbicularis Oculi. It's involuntary. I had no chance, yow. Flash knockout, first round. Was every moment after just a dream?
Bridge.
Pulelehua . . .
it's good to see ya, girl. =P
*note: it was discovered during Cousin conversation everything but 'Hua's vision is 20/20. Makapo Pulelehua.
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