ch9 pg 61-62

I sat back down and thought about the bullet I had just dodged. It was nice to have friends in high places. Although Ronnie had given me a big break, leaving it up to me find my own way left me out in the open.
I suddenly felt tired. Leinani had sure picked a great time to call. As if I didn't already have enough on my mind. Here I was again, walking that thin line between black and white.
Sakama had bigger problems. Since no one actually complained about football gambling, he really had no where to go and no one to arrest. I think it was Charley Royce who one told me that if we had to enforce the letter of the law, everyone would be in jail.
Gambling on football was nothing compared to the other things that happened in the islands.
I was pondering this though when Jeff walked up to me and handed me the phone.
"Sir, you have two people here at the desk asking for you." It was Norma, she worked the front desk at night.
"They say who they are or what they want?"
"No sir, they wont' give their names. All the say is that you visited them this afternoon and they want to see you."
That made me curious. "Send them here. And Norma, please don't call me sir."
I walked back to the bar and handed Jeff back his phone. He pushed a bowl of beer snacks in front of me and opened a fresh beer. I took my seat and watched the entrance.
The two guys who walked through the door I recognized immediately. It was the two who had taken so kindly to me at Chucky's house. They glowered at me as they approached the bar.
Slick opened up first: "Two guys came to see us after you left."
I nodded to Jeff and he placed two beers on the bar in front of them. I wondered what they were talking about.
Mr. Ukulele grinned. "I guess you wondering what we talking about."
"You guys were so receptive this afternoon. Makes me wonder what you're doing here."
This was peculiar. Locals usually didn't go to outsiders for help.
Slick and Mr. Ukulele looked at each other.
"Look, you wanna hear what we got or not?" Slick asked.
I motioned to them to go on. "Talk to me."
Mr. Ukulele gave Slick the nod. "Two braddahs came looking for Chucky after you left."
"Two big mokes," Mr. Ukulele added.
A moke usually meant a large Polynesian person. The description was reserved for guys that pushed their weight around and didn't care who knew. A moke would stand at a crowded bus stop and ask you for your bus fare.
"What they want?" I directed my question to Slick.
"Chucky's in trouble. The guys were there to collect. As in money. As in drugs."
That was interesting. "So why come to me?"
Their eyes fixed on mine. This was a major lapse in local etiquette and their apprehension showed. They decided I was a good guy.
"You said you could help him," Slick said. "Besides, we saw the cop form this afternoon leave here just now. You must be working for em."
Mr. Ukulele nodded his head in agreement. They had mentioned this afternoon that a short stocky officer had paid them a visit. Sakama hadn't mentioned Chucky's name tonight.
"How well you guys know Chucky?" I asked.
"He's my friend. As in good friends," Slick said. He took a sip of his beer and began to peel the label off the bottle.
"How long did he work at Pearl?"
Mr. Ukulele had to think about that. He looked over at Slick and shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe four of five months."
"Yeah, he applied to the fire department and the police academy but he got that job first," Slick added.
I sipped my beer and looked the two of them over. They seemed to be genuinely interested in Chucky's well being. "Look, I know Chucky was running bets for some people. What else was he into?"

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