2.(12-16) Trans Pacific/Introducing Stewardess Glo

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12 Guam

Kimura, groggy and hung over from too much talk, marijuana smoke, and manhattan cocktail, follows Ali down stairway to a launch. At passport check Ali proves out as travel companion. Alone he would be just one more Jap to question but with Ali to explain they are journalists covering the New York World’s Fair and handing over her card with Tokyo phone number to the young American who is checking the passports, Kimura is quickly passed.

Pan Am treats the passengers to a trans-Pacific dinner whose centerpiece is baked swordfish with piquant breadfruit stuffing. The Viking style has everyone filling plates with pineapple, mango, papaya, green vegetables, tomatoes, carrots and the fish fancily arranged on large central platter with a shelled cocoanut impaled on its sword. Kimura meets a same-age Japanese man and discovers he is Nisei – 2^nd generation Japanese-American – neuropathologist, Dr. Hirano -- just having completed a year studying the Guam natives and discovering a hereditary spinal cord illness. He describes it: A person in prime starts having small twitches of fingers and they gradually move up arms and legs; and, after, comes weakness first noted as clumsiness in buttoning. Then higher muscle centers are affected and breathing muscles go, and the person strangles to death.

   Ali taps Kimura: “An’t that good for creative dying, Kim?”

   Kimura explains and, being a doctor who deals with slow-dying patients, Hirano appreciates the idea. “Yes, it is ideal for achieving what you call Creative Dying. The diagnosis can be made a year or two before the muscle weakness starts and the brain is not involved so one’s power to do something of value would not be affected.”

   “Like writing the novel,” says Kimura a frustrated novelist.

   “Or painting a Mona Lisa,” says Ali.

   “Dr Hirano, who distrusts the value of making literature or of painting, says “These strike me as grandiose and unattainable. My idea if I receive a diagnosis of illness with such undoubted outcome will be to create value negatively by not seeking further medical services for the purpose to limit family expenses; and also I would wish to avoid creating terror in my children by exhibiting myself moaning or making faces. Children need to be protected from death.”

   Ali is uncomfortable with the talk. She pulls Kimura by the hand excusing them both to Hirano with “Nice meeting you Doc.” They go back aboard the Clipper.

13. Wake Us at Wake

The take off is perfect and as it is still the wee hours the plane is darkened for sleep.

…………

“What time is it?” asks Ali.

“Nine AM, Wake Island time. Fifty minutes to landing.”

The alcohol and cannabis have flushed out and an appetite has developed. Breakfast comes and they eat well.

14. Cesnola Antique

“So this is Wake,” says Ali strolling surf side on Kimura’s right, along North Beach after coffees at the Guest House. “Ideal spot for pot, dontchyathink, m’luv?” She reaches for a MaryJane and then, cylinder between middle and index finger, gestures with it towards the view ahead - one long, flat, sandy beach with gently waving palms in morning sunlight. Kimura stoops down and picks up a white coral, shaped like a wide hipped Earth Mother. “Look, Ali-san, what Nature hath wrought! Were I to find this on Cyprus, I’d be another Cesnola and claim it a goddess of a lost civilization.” He draws back his arm to throw it but Ali says, “I want it, Hon. I collect everything.”

15. Destination Midway

Next hop – Midway! Ali decides to sample British tea. “Ceylon oolong, ‘at’s fo',me” she says, fingering it on the white menu card, and presses the call button.

   A new stewardess appears: a younger, prettier replacement. Kimura notes it. “I should like American coffee, black, if you please, and can you bring it in pot so I do not have to call you for more?” Stewardess smiles engagingly as he says ‘pot’.

   Ali adds “And Oolong for me - I mean tea,” and projects metaphoric green-eyed daggers after the departing stewardess.

   “Midway is one thousand miles yet,” Kimura says. “At one hundred fifty miles per hour, it ought to be seven hours; in time for another supper on another tropic isle.”

   Ali leans across the cozy table and daintily applies lips to Kimura’s brow, leaving faint rose-red lipstick traces. “There!”  You are now branded against the goddamn vamps they employ here. I mean Big Miss Sexpot Stewardess there who is making gaga eyes over you, Hon, and who, my intuition tells me, knows we got pot for which she’s hot. If she tries anything I’ll paste her mug.” Easing off, Ali leans forward, arms extending over head. “Oh, Hon! In spite of all that stuff about creative dying, it feels so darn good to be alive and young and healthy and intelli. An’ I love flyin’ through air with greatest ease like the guy on the trapeze, ooh, do I love it!” She leans over the table, throws her hands over his shoulders and kisses him fervently on lips, opening hers for tongue play.

   “Ali-san, suppress it!” he chides once his mouth is free. But his tone is mild because he loves to see his lovely little Miss America throw a happy-happy fit. He pulls out his gold case, and she takes two and lights up for them both, and asks. “Have you seen Reefer Madness, Kim?”

   “I did not know they are making movies about marijuana.”

   “It’s low-budget.”
   Ali takes a drag and holds, then lets out tendrils of smoke slowly and sits back with beatific grin. “So what’ll be your subject, this hop, Hon?”

16. Stewardess Glo

The new stewardess arrives bearing tray with coffee in cup and Oolong tea in pot. And a plate of brown crunchy macaroons.

   She pours the tea for Ali and asks, “Will you be wanting anything else?” The smoke emanates from their glowing cigarettes and gives a marijuana aroma. Kimura notices her noticing and holds out his open gold case. “Would you like some for later?”

   She glances up and down the aisle. They are fairly isolated with nearest passenger five compartments ahead. “Thanks a mill.” She takes four marijuanas and drops them into her large side pocket. “Listen guys! If you pass thru Honolulu just call. M’name’s Glo.” She drops card, gives sexy wink and heads up the aisle revealing a fine fundament also known as ass.
To read on to next chapter, click 2.(17-19) A Most Delightful Flightful