Chapter 11
Mack
Wilson was already at Sunrise when I made it there Sunday. The man had to be bionic or something. He never seemed to slow down.
“When’s the last time you got some sleep?” I asked him with a slap on the back.
He grinned up at me, his dark skin shiny with sweat. He’d clearly been there for hours. “I got some last night,” he said with his native lilt. He’d lived in Hawaii his whole life, on the Big Island all of it. He’d never even left the islands to visit another state or country. He said there was no reason to leave when he lived in the place everyone on Earth always wanted to go to.
I couldn’t argue with his logic.
“How long have you been here?”
He shrugged, which was his way of saying longer than I’d probably be happy about.
“You need a break sometimes, Wilson. Yo
