UNFINISHED DOCUMENTARY, KINGDOMS OF THE RADIO [1995]
Some of the other braddahs were holo holo with just crashing at the Big House. I know Bravo was more interested in growing pakalolo than clapping some shanty together. It was getting a little crowded for my taste, though, especially since Rhonda and I were starting to really connect, if you know what I mean. I got some good-natured business from some of the other heads for not taking advantage of the free love scene, but I’ve always been a one-woman local boy… at least one at a time.
I guess it was because I had taken a lot of the buildings apart when we demoed the resort property, but all of a sudden I was the man to talk to when it was time to nail something up. I shouldn’t have to say it, but those are two totally different things. Still, I was always good with tools and since no one was checking on our work, at least for the time being, I didn’t mind giving it a shot. Little did I know that I would make a career of it. Anyone that had to live in one those first hale ʻāpulus, especially, wouldn’t have bet money on it. Of course, none of us had any money.
The defining feature of our place was a bunch of south-facing window frames all fitted together. Ronda and I decided to build at the bottom of the property where we could watch the Garcia run. I used to get up with the Sun and fish for steelhead when they were running. I had the great idea of trying to dry some of the fish out on racks so we might have some for later, but the first black bear that showed up put paid to that idea pretty quickly.
That bear was actually the cause of our first fight, Ronda and I. She was pretty nervous about our furry friend coming back and wanted me to get a firearm for safety. I told her that after coming back from Vietnam, I had made a vow never to touch a gun again. She pointed out that Charlie kept his service piece. I explained that Charlie was a grown-ass man and could do whatever he wanted, but I was not gonna have a gun in the hale. I might have suggested that she could go stay with Charlie if she wanted and she slugged me. Pretty hard. I guess I had that one coming.
It wasn’t long before Ronda had the idea of creating a backdoor trail off of the property. It was actually a good idea to be able to get up to the road without having either bushwhack through the brambles that had owned the way up front for 70 years, or hoping that Charlie was available to hop up and over that shit. Since we were separated from the rest of the community, down by the river where Bravo was playing farmer, I just took it upon myself to clear a path to the west, where there was some sort of old Indian meeting house. Bravo was down to help when he could, as it would make it easier for him to bring in whatever he needed for the garden without hauling it all the way through everybody’s business.
As the two us cleared the brush, the closer we got to the roundhouse, the more chicken skin I got. It was like Vietnam all over again. I had the distinct feeling that we were being watched.
