The Search

The drone of the helicopter's rotors thumped against the pigeon-wing-gray sky. It traced the place where blue water snarled at black rock. In short paces, it headed north, then turned south like a caged tiger, bored, it endlessly pads its confines looking for something lost.

He came from California and on Saturday morning he entered the water, spear gun in hand. There had been talk of an evening barbeque in the pits of the Kona Makai Condominiums. A few cold beers, fresh fish grilled to a flakey white perfection and a Hawaiian sunset. We’ll call the guys back home.

It rained off and on all morning. But the waters on the Kona Coast were warmer than what he left back home. And clearer too. In the choppy surf he bobbed along the surface looking for fish. The yellowtails were there, but they were not for dinner. A few parrotfish eyed him as he towed the buoyed gear – a netted bag on a twenty foot leash. He thought he was flying. The element so familiar – water, air and lava rock.

There below him in a deceiving depth fish swam. Spear gun ready. Ten feet? Or maybe it was more. It was farther than he thought. Deeper than he wanted to go. The fish cautiously watched his descent, and slowly kept the distance.

Making no progress toward his prey, the hunter stopped. Through his mask he watched the fish disappear. Confusion leaked into his consciousness and hit him as hard as the surf breaks on the black rocks above. Suddenly his lungs burned for the familiar element. His brained rebelled against better judgment as it instinctively reached out to survive. It demanded that he breathe. He looked to what he thought was up, but could find nothing familiar. The mask must be leaking. Starved for oxygen, he reasoned he needed to remove it.

It was the gear they found floating a mile from where the chopper circled two days ago. The chopper’s sweeps continue but now further to the horizon. The thumping fades, less intrusive as it searches for the body of a man from California. He was forty-nine.

Kona Makai on Dwellable