CHAPTER THIRTEEN
As soon as I stepped off the plane at Lihue Airport, I knew I was not in Kansas anymore, as the saying goes. I had a few clues. For one thing, the very small airport had photographs on the walls depicting native Hawaiians doing what appeared to be ritual dancing. People all around me were wearing that garment choice known as the "Hawaiian shirt," regardless of how pale the wearer’s skin was, or how light their hair. When I stepped outside to walk over to the car rental area, I had to navigate my way around a chicken. That made me laugh.
But I think the real giveaway was the air. At about eight thirty in the evening, it was still warm, with temperatures in the seventies, and it was moist. But it wasn’t oppressive. And it wasn’t still. The air had a freshness to it that mo
