So Much More To Me

by Split Scimitar

No, Not Me

A few days after I hop back to Kailua-Kona, I get a response.

“We’re ready to head back now. Sorry I didn’t respond. No service in our work area.”

“No worries. Same place at the airport.”

When they arrive, I drive them all through and park them. To my surprise, they’re not all that dirty. Nevertheless, I don’t ask too many questions and quickly brief them so we can get to Maui in a timely fashion.

Thanks to me keeping the throttles full (how wasteful of me), we reach Maui in less than 20 minutes, to the admiration of a 717 who followed us on the same route.

When they leave to do their exploring, I head back to Lahaina and spend my afternoon at Front Street, since that’s where I seem to enjoy myself the most, next to being in Kahului, but that’s neither here nor there.

After a few hours lounging under the shade of a tree, I decide to head to Kahului and text Rosalina, “you want anything from anywhere in Kahului?”

“No thanks, I don’t need anything.”

“K cool. Thought I’d ask.”

Leaving me with no reason to head to the isthmus, I grab a small snack at Leoda’s and hang out in Oluwalu, wary of the people who are taking pictures of the car. I guess it’s a surprise to see a Lamborghini in Hawaii.

After dinner, I talk to Rosalina.

“By the looks of it, anywhere from two to three days on each island is it. Though, I imagine it can still change depending on their research.”

“Sure. I imagine if they’re getting even a sneak peek, that they should spend at least that amount of time. These islands are pretty complex.”

“Exactly. Since I can’t really predict when they’ll be ready to go, the only thing I can do is stay. And as much as I love being here, because of you, you know just as much as I do that if I stay here too long, bad things start to happen.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, like how I tend to eat most of my body weight in my favorite things to eat here.”

“Fair enough.”

“And to think I always wanted to call this place home.”

“Well, I can’t speak for you, but I think it’s a good thing we didn’t end up living together.”

“I agree. That being said, I do kind of feel bad that that was the way it had to be.”

“Don’t be. Even in our early days, I can’t say that I didn’t enjoy living here alone.”

“That seems rather contrary to the Rosalina I met.”

“Yes, but also consider that I hold those views because I firmly believe that my parents’ marriage was the only one I knew that lasted and endured for so long.”

“Hmm, of course.”

“Oh, by the way, speaking of home, there are some things that I do want from you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I know this may be difficult for you, but I do want something of yours.”

“What?”

“I think you may able to tell when I say “your love. Your passion.”

“You don’t mean?”

“I want all your Focus RS’s.”

---

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Is there anything else you want?”

“No. That’s it. Just those.”

“Okay. When do you want them?”

“When we finalize the divorce.”

“Very well.”

Next morning, I leave the house with Rosalina and in fact follow her all the way to Kahului. This time though, I decide to explore Kahului. Both malls I’m familiar with, but I decide to spend an hour at each.

When I finish at each mall, I decide to head to Kihei and walk on those shores. To my surprise, Kihei is surprisingly sparse this afternoon. Fortunately for me, I can go barefoot here, so after I oblige myself for about an hour, I admire the afternoon sun making its way westward before I slowly make my way back to Lahaina.

“Hello?” I answer my phone immediately.

“Hey, where are you?”

“Kihei.”

“You want me to meet you there?”

“I was just about to head back, but if you want to, you can come down here.”

“You hungry?”

“Not really.”

“Hmm. You haven’t been very hungry much recently. Remember when we first started dating, you would eat a lot.”

“Yeah, and times change I guess. And it’s not even related to what’s happening.”

“I hope you’re right. I hate seeing you like this.”

“Why? I’ve put some weight on last I checked.”

“I’m glad, but it pains me to see you so all over the place.”

“Just part of the process, you know.”

“I know.” “I’ll meet you down there.”

“Okay. I’m at Cinnamon Roll Place.”

“Ok thanks. Bye.”

Waiting for her, I lean up against a tree and sink my toes into the sand. I tell you, that feeling of sinking your toes into nature is truly unmatched. Well, next to flying an airplane, but that one’s just for me.

Nevertheless, Rosalina finds me on the beach only a block away from where I’m parked. Tapping me on the shoulder and coaxing her hand into mine, we lock fingers and she clutches my arm.

“How long have you been there?”

“I’ve been here since 16:00. But standing under this tree? Probably about 10 minutes.”

“Oh, okay.”

“You know how I like to sink my feet into sand, or the garden in the backyard. That’s what I did before I left home.”

“Hmm.”

“Did you eat anything since breakfast?”

“Just some of the leftover soup.”

“Wanna just split a cinnamon bun?”

“I was just going to ask you.”

“Nice to know we still get each other.”

“That will never change.” She says smiling warmly and resting her head on my shoulder. With all the touchy-feely things she and I do from time to time, it is a wonder why she wants a divorce.

Next morning, Rosalina is gone before I wake up, but a time check reveals that I’m awake at my normal time.

A text!

“Hey. Had an early bird charter, and they requested me to fly them.”

“Sweet! Have fun!” I respond as I decide to be adventurous and take the Lambo on the Hana Highway.

Quickly rushing through Kahului to beat the rush, I stop in Paia to mark the start. Across 64.4 miles of heavily winding roads, marked with 620 hairpin turns and 59 one-lane bridges, my record to traverse the highway is just under 2 hours, which in of itself a miracle, since usually it takes no less than 2 hours for even the highest level of motoring.

Since it is the beginning of March, traffic as I should expect will likely be relatively high, but we’re right in between the period of holiday traffic and early summer holiday makers, I can’t expect a record to be broken.

To a tune Rainbow Dash would probably whistle to herself under similar conditions, I set off from Paia at exactly 14 minutes to 10.

Through the first few dozen hairpins, most of the traffic that I have to brake for is headed for one of the many falls or attractions off the road that probably shouldn’t be explored if they’re in rentals, but I won’t rat anybody out. I, however, know better, considering what I’m driving.

Just as I reach the halfway point, I’ve evolved beyond using the A/C and letting the salt in my skin and the wind in my hair say “hey, heave ho” in the turns.

After the first few hundred turns, I think about stopping, but knowing I’m in it for the transit time, I push on and decide to keep my foot down. Naturally, I decide to shut the radio off, since it’s no longer really needed. The only note I need now is the exhaust.

Come the tightest group of hairpins and one-lane bridges, I keep my foot down, thankful that I don’t need to worry about encountering a potential yielding situation. However, when I pass a local knowledge mile marker, the traffic seems to increase, enough for me to say something but not so much that it’s all that obvious.

Knowing this increase will cut into my record attempt, I throttle back and let the sound of the engine at high rpm with the throttle closed growl, hopefully attracting the attention of the motorists ahead of me. The few that seem to respond to my engine noise acknowledge my presence behind them by paying no mind and admiring the scenery ahead of them. I have nothing against that, and in fact encourage it, so maybe something will open up, but if it doesn’t, I can make up for lost time.

Since they’ve at least acknowledged me, I don’t need to leave the car in a low gear, so I reengage automatic mode and save the 70 MPH triple-tap downshift for when the road opens. Taking a quick ‘NASCAR tire warming’ swerve to peek at the traffic ahead, I count 4 Jeeps and a Sienna (?) ahead.

From the looks of things, at least 2 of the Jeeps are traveling together, so when another waterfall turnoff appears, one disappears. The remaining vehicles do kind of pick up the pace but I see no opportunity or reason to overtake. Granted, I don’t use the road often, and it is very pretty, so I guess it’s worth the slack in pace.

As I check Maps to verify where I am, despite my relatively limited cell coverage, the opportunity knocks. I don’t send anyone to get it, so as soon as able, I pick up some speed and as soon as I see the opportunity by scanning the road ahead, I flick the down paddle three times and wait for the clutch to reengage. The howl of the engine spoils the otherwise lush and quiet forestal area as I pick up speed entering what I assume are the final hundred or so hairpins.

In no time, I reach the town of Hana, where upon reaching the town, I make the car as quiet as I can by resuming automatic shifting. Obviously, this car has garnered a lot of attention in both Kahului and Lahaina, but in Hana, wow is it on a whole new level of attention-grab. And I haven’t even reached the town center yet.

Heading straight for Hana airport, I check in with a local FBO and inquire about aircraft rentals, since I am an official customer in their system. Records show that I am on file, so I could rent if I ever wanted to. You know, if any of my jets get boring.

I find parking in town center and am immediately ogled by a few pre-pubescent teenagers, or at least that what they looked and sounded like upon seeing them. Taking all the pictures they can, I lock the car and only hope no one will spit on or key the car.

Parking in front of the Hana Cultural Center, I go for a walk in the little town. Only a few blocks corner to corner, I can take my sweet time here, seeing as I don’t have to be back in Kahului for another few hours.

Enjoying a walk in the town of Hana, I pop in for a drink at one of the local restaurants before slowly making my way back to the car. Unlike Lahaina, when I get to the car this time, no one is standing around it. I do a quick walk-around to make sure no one has vandalized the car, and quickly getting in, I start it up and check the fuel level. I should probably get some petrol while I’m here.

Only heading about a half mile out of the way, I join only a Jeep taking on fuel. The driver I’m pretty sure has gone inside, confirmed when he emerges with a receipt and tops off. Getting in the car before he has a chance to look at me, I wait for the tank to fill before the Jeep starts up, thankful that we’re both facing the same way.

When my pump stops, I round to the nearest whole dollar and head out, knowing that the Hana highway the other way is the fastest road, and the one that’s actually paved.

---

In no time at all, I return to Kahului and find Rosalina in her office inputting the last sets of data for the airframe maintenance logs.

“Hi again.” She says not looking up from her work.

“Hello. I’m probably hopping to Oahu soon, so I’ll just wait for you and we can head back together. I haven’t heard anything from Fluttershy yet though.”

“That’s fine. I’m actually glad you’re here. If you’re leaving tonight, then let’s go to Da Kitchen again.”

“I’m all for it. We’ve been married for how long now and whenever we’re on Maui, how many times do we go on average?”

“Two or three?” She asks in response.

“Seems about right. No reason to stop the tradition though, even after the big day.”

“Of course not.”

Not surprisingly, we’re the last ones out of the office, so we shut everything down and lock up before we head for dinner.

As Rosalina and I split an order of fried Spam Musubi, a text comes in.

“I’ll bet that’s the “ready to transfer” message.” I say as I pull out my phone.

“Hey Max, we just got back. We’ll leave early tomorrow for Oahu.”

“Any estimates on early?”

“How early would you like to leave?”

“No preferences. Just want to be reasonable so you have the whole day.”

“Okay. Let me talk to the rest of the group, and I’ll get back to you.”

“Okay,” I tell Rosalina. “She said early tomorrow morning, but I’ll get an exact estimate later.”

“That’s fine. It’ll just be back to normal I guess.”

“How do you do it? It’s like your routine never really changes. Wake up, go to office, occasionally do a flight or two, then go home. The largest degree of variation you have is where you eat for dinner.”

“I can’t really say.” She responds with an air of pondering. “The best thing I can tell you is that when I interviewed, they basically took me in and in the professional sense ‘raised me as their own.’ I’m sure they wanted me to succeed them because he knew that I wanted this job and would take care of it very well. I suppose that’s what motivates me to keep doing it. I’m making the founders proud.”

“I can’t argue.” I say, my face betraying a look of admiration.