LIHI: before Lihi was out of diapers, she had learned to read, write,
answer the phone, take dictation, and in all other ways run a small,
out of the way, territorial office. And then before she was
seven, she had also learned how to write an environmental impact study,
file a grievance, petition for a stay of construction, and in all other
ways keep the contaminating influences of Western Civilization at bay
and off the island of Lihi’i. It’s sort of odd
(after you've listened to yet another one of Lihi's
back-to-nature/anti-progress diatribes) to consider how much time Lihi
chooses to spend “keeping her eye on the man,” by which, of course, she
means taking college level correspondence courses.
Hey, why you no mention she only nine? Or that she the orphan?
Oddly enough, I was going to tell the story of how Lihi came to be
adopted by the island of Lihi'i and thereby came to live in the
Liaison’s Headquarters.
I wasn’t adopted by Lihi'i. And I’m not an orphan. I’m Kimo and Sarah’s niece.
Notice how she doesn’t deny the part about where she lives.
STORY: Operation Independence! in which Lihi petitions the governement to have Cliff kicked off island/
* * * * *
COMMENTARY: it's been long enough since I read these character sketches
that I had assumed Cliff would have penciled in the story of how Lihi
got to the island (in a canoe, with her father, who subsequently left
and/or abandoned, depending upon who you ask). As to Operation Independence!, I haven't a clue.
"Of course, you don't have a clue", I can hear Lihi saying.
Following up with, "I can speak for myself, thank you very much."
But maybe that sets the wrong tone...
No, it doesn't. Cliff is always treating me like a little girl...
Giving you candy, teaching you math...
Ha! Shows how much you know. Cliff, teach me? Please.
If anything, I was teaching him. Not to mention filling out
the monthly reports, answer the phone, womaning the radio, and keeping
the place clean. And the thanks I get for all this? A
curfew.
I'm sure it was for you own good.
I'm sure it was so he could go on a date with Thirty Seven.
Well, then, rather than a curfew, he probably worded his
request along the lines of 'Why don't you stay here tonight?'
In bondage? In shackles? Stay at home, while he goes off traipsing with another woman?
Ah, the truth comes out.
Please. The stars were just particulary nice that evening and I wanted to go for a walk.
Anyhow, a woman scorned, I think that's the set up. Lihi, at The Cliff House, muttering to herself.
Fine. Let them go. I don't need them
And then, the thought sinking home.
I don't need them!
Either of them and a scheme is born, a plot is hatched, and Lihi
spends the night working on paperwork just like Cliff wanted and types
up his resignation letter, Which she signs, just like she signs all the rest. Of course, that's not enough. So there is a petition, as well -- a Petition for Lihi'i Independence. Which she gets everyone else on the island to sign, based on promises of free food.
Why I have to sign this, again. Just sign it Kimo. But why? Let's just say, sign this, be so grateful, you get Cliff's share of the pie. Pie? It good pie? Coconut Cream?
You see, Lihi was planning on taking over Cliff's position, and using
the budget to make everything OK with the rest.
Only snag was, Thirty Seven was the courier for outgoing dispatches.
And as we all know, she always opened the mail.
When were you going to tell me? What? When? In the plane? Or after we landed? What are you talking about?
Or maybe Thirty Seven would know better and slip Cliff the letters back
the next time around with the incoming.
You should read this. What? That? Looks official. You know my policy. Just leave it for Lihi. Not this one.
And then what happens? Cliff follows up on the petition, I suppose.
Hey, Cliff. I be waiting for that Double Cream Pie all week. I don't know about that. But what's this about a petition. Petition? I know know about that. When I get that Double Coconut Cream Pie.
And round and round they go.
So, you didn't sign a petition? Pie. Pie, Cliff. This some sort of beaurocratic red tape thing, Cliff? So, you didn't sign a petition? No, and I'm not going to until you get me that Pie you promised.
So, it's clear Lihi is behind all this, but what to do.
Pack your things, order travel brochures, ask her to type up a
resignation for real, prepare to go, and see how she reacts? Nah. I'm mean, do all that, sure.
But the real kicker is to have someone come and pretend to be your
replacement, perhaps Cool Ridge cool do that for you, probably owes you
a favor or two -- or maybe Cliff's leaving would be as hard on him as
anyone else.
And I can't say that I know what
happens next, but sure as shine, before it's time to go, everyone
will be begging for Cliff to stay -- including Lihi.
He going to take my couch away! You've got to do something, Cliff. Who? Me? No, you got the wrong guy. No. No. You can't go, Cliff. We need you. I need you.
And there you are, as good as gold -- or as good as a golden sunset
over the crystal blue waters of the Lagoon -- the two most beautiful
women at your side: Thirty Seven on one arm, and Lihi on the other.
Doesn't Thirty Seven have a delivery to make or something. You're thinking of cowboys, Lihi. Us pilots never fly off into the sunset. It's hard on the eyes.
But then, that's where she's wrong. As I hear it, nothing about Thirty Seven is hard on the eyes.