“You"ve got a knack.”
Fina Kahu and I stepped through a heavy glass door of a community arts and culture building into a sultry evening fanned by a gentle breeze. Traffic was light on Kawaiaha"o at 8:15 p.m.
“You"ve got a knack,” she repeated. “Your akalewa shows a certain gracefulness. Keep coming to class. You can be my cheering section and I"ll be yours.” She chuckled, then sobered. “What a shock about Carmie.”
akalewa“Would you care to get a coffee or drink somewhere?” I glanced up and down the shadowy street.
The thirty-year-old motioned. “There"s a little bar two blocks over. It belongs to Cousin Marco. He makes a perfect b****y Mary, but if you like something fruity or sweet, try Marco"s Mellow Magic. It"ll loosen kinks and aches, physical and mental.”
“You"re on, but let me ma
