the chance for a last-minute escape.

He decided to wait a day. Look up Kenso Nakano tomorrow, he told
himself. He walked back to the hotel by a different route and fell
asleep easily.

Later that morning, he walked to Tops again and on to the Ala Moana
Shopping Center. Acres of parking lot surrounded two decks of
stores--mainland chains and local names. There were fountains and
sculptures, a mix of tourists and islanders, and, at one end, a
Japanese department store named, "Shirokya." He spent an hour in
Shirokya admiring the packaging and design, listening to Japanese
music, and feeling proud of the evident care taken with details. _If
you're going to do something, do it well._

He crossed Ala Moana Boulevard to the yacht harbor where rows of large
sailboats were moored behind a stone breakwater. "Salty boats," he said
to a guy who was smoking at the end of a long dock.

"Better be. It's a mile deep right out there." He looked down at
Oliver, amused. Oliver was evidently too short for the Pacific.

He spent the rest of the day poking around Waikiki and considering his
visit to Kenso Nakano. The next morning, he caught a bus to the other
side of the city.

He walked up Alewa Drive in bright sunshine, enjoying the view of the
city and the ocean which grew in immensity as he climbed. The higher he
got, the more vast the ocean became and the smaller the island, until
he began to sense that he was standing on a happy accident, a green
miracle in a marine world. The planes taking off from the airport below
him looked puny. It was an added pleasure to turn away from the Pacific
to the street, to the plumeria, the bougainvillea, and the different
shades of green. Doves called. There was little traffic.

The street bent higher around a switchback curve. A pickup was parked
in front of a wall and a gate which bore the number Oliver was seeking.
Two heavyset men wearing shorts, T-shirts, and baseball caps were
easing a boulder from the truck bed onto an impromptu ramp of
two-by-sixes. A woman with trim graying hair and tanned cheeks watched.
The planks sagged ominously.

"She hold?"

"Plenty strong."

"Damn--stuck. Excuse me, Mrs. Nakano."

"I've heard worse," she said. Oliver approached and braced one shoulder
against the rock.

"What is this?" one man said. "Who you?"

"Superman," Oliver said.

"You shrunk." There was a cracking noise from one of the planks. "Watch
it!" The other man got both hands under o