Holding the manuscript in my hands, I can almost smell the ocean air and feel the warm sun on my face.
The format for My Hawaii is straightforward enough. I, your
humble narrator, briefly introduce a character.
And den, we tells what wrong wit what Cliff just say. Yeah, Cliff, he nice and all, but he no always tell the truth. Et like he live in his own little world.
Fair enough. I admit that my take on reality may deviate just a
wee bit from the norm, but the stories I tell have a grain of truth
about them nonetheless... and well, certain things don’t really need to
be said. Which is to say, I prefer to concentrate on the loving
side of things: the kindness and compassion that I see on the island,
along with the brotherhood, goodwill, and the aloha.
What he mean to say is, he in love with Lihi’i. Dat not only thing he in love with. He crazy for Thirty Seven big time. Yeah, he never say anything bad about her, it ever. So, he running a little scared, maybe bend the truth a little hear and there.
Me,
I would have thought if you were telling stories of the Gods of Old --
Ku, Pe’la, and Paka’ka to name just a few -- the fact that you were
stretching the truth a little here and there would go without saying.
You saying dey don’t exist?
OK! Dat it! Dat the last time you blaspheme, Cliff ole
boy. Help me with his legs. It time for Cliffe to say hello
to da inside of da volcano.