Where There's a Will

thought.

Felix turned pointedly away from Keoni and spoke to Gideon: “This is your field. How much would be left after eight years?”

“Oh, please, let’s not get all grisly,” Hedwig said.

“No, I’m interested.”

“I am, too,” Inge said.

“If the plane has been in the lagoon for eight years,” Gideon said a little uncomfortably, “there won’t be anything like a skeleton left—an articulated skeleton. And with a window knocked out, the chances are there won’t be much in the way of bones at all. Only whatever the fish and crabs couldn’t haul away.” A skull was the most likely possibility, since few sea creatures could get their jaws or claws around a skull. But even that was doubtful after eight years. Marine environments were not kind to organic remains.

Dagmar looked at him with prim distaste. “Thank you for explaining that, young man.”

“What salvage company are you using?” Malani asked Felix.

“I don’t know yet, honey. I’ll ask around when I get back home. There are several of them in Honolulu.”

“That’s hardly necessary. There’s a marine salvage company right here on the island, in Kona—Ocean Quest,” Malani told him. “They’re clients of mine.” For the last few years, John had told Gideon earlier, she had been running a website-design consulting business from home.

“Thanks, Malani, but I think we want something just a little more professional than one of your Kona-coast outfits with two kids and a dinghy,” Felix said with a tolerant smile. “Now, then—”

“Oh, now, Felix, they’re hardly two kids and a dinghy,” Malani warbled at him in full grade-school-teacher mode. “Ocean Quest has eight divers, they have their very own Cessna 310, and they have two salvage tugs under contract. Their specialty is rapid-response deployment. In the last fiscal year alone they did contract work for the State of Hawaii, for Blue Star Shipping, for the government of the Tuamotos, and for the Army Corps of Engineers. They handle all regional small towing and salvage work for two different marine insurance companies—”

“What is the woman doing, reading or something?” Felix said, laughing. He threw up his hands. “Okay, okay, you win. I don’t know what I was thinking of to doubt you. Madame, we leave it in your ever-capable hands.”

“I’ll call them now,” Malani said, rising.

“At seven o’clock at night?” Hedwig asked.

“These are not the most formal people in the world. They won’t mind.”

“The salad’s on the table,” Inge said as Malani left. “We might as well start before the flies find it.”

Over a simple but wonderfully fresh lettuce-and-tomato salad, the conversation turned to everyday topics.

“Axel,” Inge said, “one of your calves got onto my property again this morning. You’re going to have to do something about that fencing.”

“Sorry about that, Inge. Did it scare any of your Indonesians?”

“Worse than that,” Inge told him. This was a young bull that had somehow found its way to the dude ranch petting farm, had managed to get in, and had tried to mount one of the female calves, traumatizing not only the calf but a school group from Hilo who witnessed the whole thing.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Hedwig said, “it’s as good a way as any for them to learn about sex.”

“This wasn’t sex, it was rape.”

“Inge,” Axel said in the midst of general laughter, “he isn’t capable of rape. He’s been castrated.”

“Well, he sure didn’t seem to know it. Maybe you should tell them when you castrate them.”

“Do you suppose we might change the subject?” Dag-mar interjected with a shake of her head. “I’m trying to eat my dinner. Felix, when exactly can we expect to see your land turned into Happy Harbor Estates?”

“Now, Auntie, you know they haven’t decided on what the name’s going to be,” Felix said patiently. “And I promise you, it’ll be very nice when it’s finished. They’re preserving the landscape as much as possible. They have a great deal of respect for the land.”

“Tell us another one,” Dagmar said.

“It’s not a joke, you’ll see. And as to when, they’re hoping to start in the fall, but the Environmental Quality Control Board is still haggling over the impact statement.”

“Hey,” Keoni said. “How many Haoles does it take to screw in a light bulb?”

“I have no idea,” Felix said with an air of stolid resignation. “How many Haoles does it take to screw in a light bulb?”

“Six. One to call the electrician, and five to write the environmental impact report.”

John laughed, Gideon smiled, and the Torkelssons glowered.

“You like that?” Keoni said. “Okay, how does a Haole show his racial tolerance?”

Before anyone could reply, Malani came in, taking the seat that had been kept for her next to Axel, across from Gideon and John. “All right, it’s tentatively arranged. They gave me a price, and if I get back to them within the hour, they can do it tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow!” Felix exclaimed. “I see what you mean about rapid response.”

“Yes, well, you see, since the plane is only in a few feet of water, and since all we want are the remains, and not the plane itself, they say it won’t take a great deal of work or much in the way of equipment. And if they leave first thing in the morning, they ought to finish up and be back by the end of the day.”