Naed Portraits

Author's note:

Hello again reader. I'm posting this story from Maui. Yeah, I know, lucky me. I'll cut to the chase, the Wahine Lani statue is real. She is carved out of a grayish wood, sanded, oiled and polished. A giant koa tree shields her from the elements. There were cut flowers placed at her feet. My friend pointed out offerings wrapped in ti leaves piled neatly on a flat stone nearby. I wanted to stay until dark to see if she glowed at night the way Gwen had described it. My friend adamantly refused to stay though. He claimed that Iao Valley is a state park and closes down at night. But when I insisted we stay, my friend looked me in the eye and said he was afraid to stay in the park at night. He is big as a bull and an Iraqi vet so admitting he was scared was no small thing. We left before dark. The archeological dig that Hawk worked on was just around the bend at the foot of the West Maui Mountains overlooking Wailuku. It was an interesting visit but I'll spare you the details for now. I'm sure you want to get to Gwen's story and not hear about my Maui vacation.

Chapter 64 The Director

Aly and I lay naked on her king size bed. I held the card Oshi had given me in one hand and my cell in the other. Aly rolled on her side to face me.

"Go ahead, dial it. Get it out of your system," she said.

I punched the number on the card. My heart raced and then lodge in my throat when someone picked up after two rings.

"Hello?" came a deep male voice.

The speaker was local, the tone neutral, not unfriendly but very business like and intimidating. I contemplated hanging up but curiosity gave me a micron of courage.

"Um ... Brian and Oshi gave me this number?" I said timidly. It went quiet on the other side for a couple of beats then the guy spoke again but this time a bit softer and MUCH more friendly.

"Yes, they sent me an email. What can I do for you?"

"Um, I don't know if I WANT you do do to anything. Is it possible to meet with the people who do this thing that you do. You know ... um ... before I do anything ... um please?"

I rolled my eyes. How stupid did THAT sound?

"You want to meet with the director?" the guy asked.

"Yes, I want to meet with the director." I said surprised at how hard my heart was beating in my chest.

"May I call you back at this number? Its on my ID."

"Um sure," I said, although I was seriously creeped out that the guy knew my number now. He hung up.

"So what's up?" Aly asked.

"He's going to call the director guy whatever, and then call me back," I said.

"Who is he?" Aly asked.

"Didn't say."

"If you're stupid enough to go see this guy I want you to take Hawk along," Aly said making it clear it wasn't a suggestion. My cell chirped, it was the guy again.

"Can you meet tonight?" he asked.

"Tonight?" I said stunned.

"Tonight?" Aly echoed.

"Yes if that's possible. Nine o'clock okay?"

"Ah, maybe," I said. I covered the phone and said to Aly, "Call Hawk." Aly nodded and went to the other room to make the call. I uncovered my cell and said, "How do I find this person?"

"At the China Cup Café. Know were that is?"

"Yes."

"The place is open until ten. Ask for the director at the coffee bar. If you have trouble call me at this number, okay?"

"Okay," I said and he hung up.

Aly came back into the room. "Hawk thinks you're out of your mind. But he'll come along for strong arm support. I'm going too so don't roll your eyes at me or I'll slap you. So where do we meet this director guy? Down at the wharf? The red light district? A whorehouse on Hotel Street?"

"At the China Cup Café on University a block from campus," I said.

*****

Aly and I met Hawk at his office at the anthropology building on campus.

"How was the game?" Aly asked.

"We lost," he said.

"That's great," I said totally not listening.

From anthropology, the three of us walked down University Avenue to the China Cup Café. After the Volcano, the China cup was one of our regular hangouts closely followed by Mama Rosa's, which was across the street form the China Cup and the Volcano just one block further down on a side street close to the old University movie theater.

"Isn't this where you're having that art show?" Aly asked.

I nodded as we stepped into the large shoebox shaped space. A show of contemporary Japanese block prints lined one long unbroken wall. A few months from now, my art will fill these walls. We scanned the sparsely populated room. Aly nodded her head at a skinny local guy all in black with wire rimmed glasses tacking away at a laptop computer.

"That's gotta be our guy," Aly said.

"My bet's on that guy," Hawk said with a nod in the direction of a fat haole dude in a loud orange and pink aloha shirt, thinning hair tied back in a greasy ponytail, his mouth smeared with powdered sugar from the pastry he greedily pushed into his face.

"Hope it's the guy in black," I mumbled as I approached the coffee bar leaving Aly and Hawk to linger at the door. An old Asian man in an apron stood behind the bar wiping and stacking coffee mugs.

In a stupid squeaky voice I asked, "Is the director here?"

The old guy looked around then said, "Not yet. Go sit and I call you when director come okay?"

I nodded and the three of us sat at a table next to a window looking out on University Avenue.

"I'm mildly disappointed that it's not the fat pastry guy," Hawk said.

"Stupid head," I said.

A pretty blonde waitress named Teri that I knew all too well came to take our order.

"We don't want anything," I said briskly.

The girl smiled weakly and backed away.

"That wasn't very nice," Aly said, surprised at my treatment of the waitress.

Hawk laughed and said, "Gwen hates that girl."

"Matt drags me here for poetry night every now and then," I said giving the retreating waitress the stink eye. "That chick is all over him like I don't exist. One day I gonna bus her fuckin' haole okole."

Aly squinted at Teri. "Messing with our man is she?"

"Down a notch you crazy titas," Hawk said.

My attention was drawn to the entrance of the café as a half dozen people stepped in all at once. I tried to guess which was the director. I put my money on the guy with the beard that looked like George Lukas.

"Hey look!" Aly said. She pointed outside the window at Meka Okuda in the process of parallel parking her silver Volvo in front of the café. We watched her get out of the car and pump quarters into a parking meter. Aly rapped on the window. Meka turned, smiled, waved then headed to the entrance of the café. She made a beeline to our table.

"What's up guys?" Meka asked bending to hug us all in turn. She sat in the empty seat next to Hawk.

"Just hangin," Aly said.

The old Asian guy at the coffee bar waved at me. The director was one of the people who had just arrived apparently. I excused myself and wondered how I was going to get Meka to leave the table, assuming that the director would talk to me with Aly and Hawk here too.

At the bar the old guy said, "The director is at your table." I turned but saw no one there but Aly, Hawk and Meka.

Three seconds later the clue bus ran me over. "Holy fuck," I whispered. I walked back to the table and sat across from Meka and said, "Hello director."

Meka's jaw dropped. The others stared at her in stunned silence. "No fucking way," Meka said.

"Way," I said.

"Which one of you am I suppose to meet?" Meka asked sounding as stunned as I felt.

"Uh uh,' Aly said quickly, "Not me, noway."

Meka gave Hawk a wide eyed look of wonder.

Hawk laughed. "Not me. I'm here as muscle in case you were sleazy and dangerous," he said.

"I'm both," Meka said deadpan then she leaned in and said softly so only we could hear, "Gwen, you do know that I came here to interview someone for a pornographic movie?"

"She knows," Hawk said gravely.

"Yeah, stupid head knows," Aly added.

I kept my eyes on on Meka and simply nodded.

Meka let out a sigh and said, "Let's talk at my campus studio."

We piled into Meka's Volvo and drove back to campus in an uncomfortable silence. It was after eight PM and parking restrictions were off so Meka was able to park right outside the art building. We climbed the steps to the third floor and maneuvered the halls of the art building's grad wing dodging gangs of art students milling everywhere.

"Why are there so many people here at this time of night on a weekend?" Aly asked.

"It's hive night," Meka said. "Once a month all the grads open their studio doors and serve refreshments to entertain the undergrads and faculty, a kind of get to know each other thing. I don't know who came up with the term 'hive night' but it's apt. People go from door to door like buzzing bees in a beehive."

"More like flies at a trash dump," Aly said looking around at the general grubbiness of the art department's hallways.

"And by refreshments you mean beer and liquor," Hawk said.

"Of course not," Meka said. "It's against the rules to serve alcohol on campus without signed written consent from the head of the administration. And if given permission, said booze will be served only in moderation." To reinforce her sarcasm, we passed a room packed with people milling around a beer keg.

"It sounds like an excuse to have a beer bust once a month," Hawk said.

"You have to admit that it's a good excuse," I said as we walked down a noisy crowed hallway that smelled of marijuana smoke. We turned a corner and walked down a quieter hallway to Meka's studio door. We filed in, Aly and I sat on her leather love seat, Hawk sat on the arm next to me and Meka settled into her squeaky office chair. She looked at me and said bluntly, "Do you really want to do this?"

All eyes were on me. "Yes I do," I said sending my heart into overdrive. Aly gave me a stern look, Hawk rolled his eyes and threw up his hands.

"I need to talk to you privately then," Meka said.

"No way," Aly said with a shake of her head.

I squeezed Aly's hand and said to her, "Please, we're just gonna talk."

"When are you going to tell Matt about this," Aly asked as she stood.

Her question annoyed me. I had no idea how I was going to tell Matt about this and I certainly didn't want to talk about it in front of Meka.

I gave my keys to Hawk and said, "Wait in my studio."

Without another word, Aly and Hawk left.

Meka shifted in her noisy office chair.

"Please oil that thing," I said cringing at the noise.

Ignoring my plea, Meka said in a serious tone, "We sign no papers there are no contracts. If you or I have any doubts about this during the creative stage it's called off, no questions asked."

I nodded and shifted uneasily on her leather loveseat.

"When money is spent and the film crew and cast get involved backing out will be harder." She looked at me intensely but after a couple of seconds her eyes softened and she said, "But not impossible."

I nodded then stated softly, "You don't want me to do this."

A frown of anger creased her forehead. She pushed back in her chair causing it to protest even louder. She wheeled away from me and faced the crowded bulletin board above her desk. I noticed an 8x10 photo of Wahine Lani my forest goddess on Maui pinned among all the photos, clippings and notes.

"If you don't want me to do this thing I won't," I said and meant it.

"If you don't do this you'll just do something else," Meka said. "This way I'm there to see that you're safe."

Tears threatened. The need to hug her swept over me. Then just like that, the little studio was charged with a weird tension. Meka's forehead wrinkled, she blinked several times and abruptly stood from her office chair. This is just like in the hotel elevator, I thought. Even more crazy Meka was feeling it too.

Meka said, "Ever since the day I watched you paint David in the life painting class I've felt tugged and pulled by forces outside me." She turned and looked at me. "I got Paul to confess about your offering to the goddess."

I was stunned and opened my mouth to say something, but Meka held out a hand for silence.

"Don't be mad at him," she said. "He was very loyal so I had to use booze and unfair womanly tactics."

At that moment I was tempted to tell her my whole history with Wahine Lani and all the other goddesses but held back. I looked whacked enough as it was and didn't want to add more doubt in her head. "It seemed like a good idea at the time," I said lamely.

"I won't rat you out," Meka said seriously, "but be careful. Things like this can piss a lot of people off."

"Worshiping pagan idols offends you?" I asked.

She cracked a smile and said, "I'm Catholic we do that all the time."

Meka reached up and unpinned the 8 x 10 of Wahine Lani from her bulletin board. It seemed apparent she was doing her best to ignore the weird sexual tension in the room. She looked at the photo for a couple of seconds then said, "Ed Marshal from sculptor found the grand daughter of the woman who carved the Wahine Lani statue. She's here at the hive party."

A fresh prickly feeling crawled over my body. "Really? I asked.

"Yeah. My photo and your offering caused a stir. Ed went on a quest to find the artist who carved our Goddess. Best he could come up with was the grand daughter, the artist died years ago." Meka sat down in her office chair causing it to moan and grind. "The statue is older then we thought. I've known about it's existence for about ten years but it's more then fifty years old I hear. I've been told that Iao valley wasn't it's first home."

We both sat quiet for a second, lost in our own thoughts. The sexual electricity in the room was gone like it never happened. My focus got back to the original reason I was here. "Would there be a script for the movie? Would I need to now lines and stuff?"

"Maybe, I have full artistic control. This is for a very small audience and I know them well. I gear the projects to their specific wants and get good bonuses for it."

"Do you know how much I would get?" I asked shyly. I had to admit the the money was a big deal in all this.

"The max. More if you play your cards right."

"Cool," I said. My biggest doubts came to the forefront and I voiced them, "What happens to the film? What do the guys who pay you do with it?"

"Don't know exactly," Meka said. "I've searched high and wide and nothing has ever appeared on the internet. I think they go to some kind of private library. Only privileged members get to see them." Meka shrugged, "but I'm just guessing."

"What have you done before? Anything sick? Illegal?" I asked.

"Can't talk about past projects. These guys pay me well to keep my mouth shut. But I will tell you that outside of a little light B & D and S & M, it's been run-of-the mill hardcore porn. Gwen, I've been doing this for two years now and it can be degrading and undignified."

Something in me sparked at her choice of words. Images of all my weird sexual exploits to date flooded my mind. Overwhelmed at the sudden surge of images, I blinked and said, "I'm interested. So what's next?"

Meka frowned. "A fellow director is working on a project and he's looking for people. That one's not so hardcore. I'll get you a part in it and see how you feel about that. Then we'll talk about my project. Now get out, I need to make some calls. I'll buzz you tomorrow."

Chapter 65 From Up High

I left Meka's studio and stepping into the hive party. As I pushed my way through a scrum of art students, someone called my name, it was an undergrad from one of the drawing glasses I tutor. I said hello and was a bit embarrassed that I couldn't recall his name. The dude handed me a burning pungent joint. Someone else in the crowd called my name. It was Oleander Wong from sculpture, with her was Paul Gleason.

For a couple of seconds, I considered yelling at Paul for ratting me out to Meka then I remembered that Meka used unfair womanly tactics on him. With Meka's looks, poor Paul had no chance. Then I did something that I haven't done in a LONG while, I took a deep toke from the joint I held in my hand.

Holding the smoke in, I handed the joint to Oleander. She took a hit and passed it to Paul. He took a good toke and handed it to me again. I exhaled and against better judgment took a second big hit. As I held in the second toke the marijuana took effect.

"It's potent stuff," Paul said in a squeaky cartoon voice as he too held in smoke.

"No shit," I returned in the same cartoon voice. By the time I exhaled the smoke from my lungs, the powerful weed had taken hold.

The joint was handed off to work its way down the crowded hall. I did my best to focus on Paul and said, "What did Meka do to make you talk?"

"What?" he asked genuinely confused.

I waved away the question. "Never mind I'll ask her myself," and head back to Meka's studio. An eternity later, I found her door, Since it was hive night, it was wide open. Meka sat at her desk pecking at her laptop. She looked great in jeans and her black blouse. In fact I would say she was stunning. The lights in her room spun with a mirror ball effect. I liked the way the lights danced off her long wavy hair.

"You are beautiful," I said dreamily.

"Um ... thank you," Meka said looking up from her laptop. She frowned and said, "Are you high?"

"It was potent stuff," I explained and floated into her studio which seemed vast and endless. "My studio is so tiny." I looked back at her and said. "Would you like to join us?"

"I don't do pot anymore." she said from far away.

"Us —the group. Make love with the group...with Matt and Hawk and Aly...and me?" I decided to kiss her and stepped forward for an embrace, but miraculously, as if she were made of smoke, she slipped out of my reach.

"You and Aly are doing it?" Meka asked sounding surprised.

"Yeah ... we're freshmen lesbians ...."

My little comment made her laugh. "I'm not into girls," she said.

"Then just with the guys. I know they both like you. Matt gives the best head."

"So I've heard," She said with a grin.

"There she is," came a voice from Meka's open door, it was Oleander.

Through the haze of my high I asked Oleander, "Meka said that Ed Marshal brought a guess to the party. A woman from Maui?"

Oleander nodded. "Yeah, the daughter of the woman who carved the Maui statue."

"Granddaughter," Meka corrected.

Oleander shrugged. "I saw them down stairs in the yard, but that was a long time ago."

That could have been seconds, minutes or hours in her current state of mind.

Focusing all my will I said, "I need to find them."

"You okay to go?" Meka asked.

"I'll keep an eye on her," Paul said gallantly.

"Who's gonna keep an eye on you?" Meka said.

"To the sculpture yard!" Oleander said then she burst into giggles. Her laughter was dangerously contagious. Both Paul and I broke into huge grins. Before the giggles took serious hold of me, Paul grabbed my hand and I grasped Oleander's hand and the three of us weaved through the crowded hallways leaving Meka far behind.

We passed through different sources of music ranging from heavy metal to Enya to Mozart, Each music source gave off different colors and smells. Heavy metal was red with blue metallic highlights smelling of wet stone...Enya, purple, green and black smelling like linseed oil...Mozart, brilliant gold and white and smelled of cinnamon.

What kind of super weed did I smoke?

With bits of music falling off me like dried leaves, we burst into the east stairwell. From top to bottom, the east stairwell is adorned with murals. Even the stairs and risers were covered with images. Some of the murals go back to the seventies when the art building was first built. In my stoned state, the simple descent of the stairs turned into an epoch journey of the surreal.