“Frank!? Frankie…you up?” Tommy banged on the latched screen door of the old plantation style house. It was a bright morning, and hte sun was already hitting the side of the house. From the door, Tommy could see the bed through the open bedroom door. Frank was not in it.
“FRANK!! I’m gonna take down dis door, brah!! FRANK!!”
There was a sound of a latch thrown back, followed by an almost-finished toilet flush.
“Easy, Tommy…easy. I had to pee, ok?”
“Damn, Frankie. I…”
“…thought the Night Marchers got me?” He smiled. “Come in, little brudduh.”
Tommy took Frank’s arm and guided him to the bed. Frank pushed away as he sat on the edge of the black enameled, iron four-poster. “It’s ok, Tommy. I feel a lot better now. It’s been over a week. I can handle getting into bed.”
Tommy stepped back and folded his arms. “Yeah, I know. But you gotta go slow. The doctor said…”
“…that I have to take things at my own pace. I am. Don’t worry, Mister Paramedic. You got me out of danger…I’ll take it from here.” Frank smiled and leaned back against one of the posts.
Tommy walked across the floor. “The house looks good. With your last tenants, it’s a miracle the place isn’t in splinters.”
“It just needed a little clean up, is all.” Frank smiled. “They had an autistic child, Tom…not a Tazmanian Devi..”
Silence interrupted his sentence without warning.
“What’s the matter, Frank?”
Tommy moved to his brother’s side, his face contorted by concern.
“Frank…it’s all over. Everything’s gonna be better.”
Frank began to emerge from his thoughts; his face leaving behind a memory too painful to see. “Yeah. I know, Tom. I know.”
The silent sunlight washed over the room. The trade-winds blew the thin white curtains gracefully away from the jalousie glass windows on the small, plantation style home. Frank stood looking out the window into a back yard still baring the signs of a Japanese garden long overgrown. A koi pond blanketed with leaves and decayed ginger blossoms held court over a wanton grove of bamboo, held at bay only by a weed-strangled stone path.
“Ya know, Tommy. I think I’ll spend the weekend in the garden. I miss the koi.”
“Sure, Frankie. Ya want some help, brah?”
Frank smiled simply. “No, Tom. It’ll be some good therapy. Just me and the weeds.”
Tommy walked over to the window and stood next to Frank. He placed a hand gently on his brother’s shoulder and turned him inward. “Everything IS going to be ok, Big Bro. I promise.”
Frank leaned toward his brother. “But?”
“But…you are going to need some help around here.”
Frank smiled. “Tom, the garden was my baby since the beginning. I think a few days bringing it back to life will do me good.”
“It’s not the garden I’m talking about, brah.” There was no trace of a smile. “After what happened at the airport…that was weird, Frank. Real weird. You don’t even know who those guys were. You could’ve died, man. What the hell?!”
Frank turned and walked directly across the room to the bedroom door. “Tommy…”
“I’m worried about you, Frankie. You need some kind of protection…until we can at least figure out what’s going on.” Tommy moved behind Frank. He could feel the tension building.
“I’m not getting a gun, Tommy.”
“Who said anything about a gun!?”
“You do. You always bring up getting a gun.” Frank walked out into the living room.
“I have a better idea. (beat) You remember Dad’s old friend Warren Chang? The dock worker?”
“Stevedore. Yeah. What about him?” Frank didn’t even try to hide the suspicion on his face.
“Well. He has a son. You remember Danny?”
“Sure. Little Danny. I counseled him for a while when he was in elementary school. Always getting into some kind of trouble.”
“Well, he’s not “Little Danny” anymore. He works with his Dad…makes some good money. Still getting into trouble, but….a good kid.”
Frank sat on the futon. “And what are you getting at, Tom?”
Well, Danny’s a tough kid. He’s ripped, works out constantly and happens to hold black belts in a couple disciplines of martial arts…”
“Oh come on, Tommy?! A body guard? How the hell am I gonna pay him?”
Tommy paced a bit. “That’s the thing. He got into some scrap a few weeks ago and was in major trouble…but my friend Kimo is a cop. I pulled some strings. Now he owes me…BIG TIME!”
“Enough to babysit an ex-priest in Kaimuki?”
“Listen Frank. His father doesn’t know about him getting arrested. If he did, there’d be huge problems. Besides…when I mentioned it to his father…”
“…You what?!”
“Easy, I just talked story a bit over his place. Frank, his pop thinks he owes you anyway for helping the kid out when he was small. And he was Dad’s friend…AND, he’s Korean…AND, he’s Catholic!”
Frank shook his head. “AND…this is ridiculous!”
“Maybe Frank. But he’s going to watch over you for a little while. At least until stuff quiets down.”
“He’ll never go for it, Tommy?”
“Don’t be so sure, big brother.” Tommy opened the front door. A handsome, chiseled young man stood in the doorway in jeans and a white t-shirt. His head was cleanly shaved and he wore silver rings in his ears. His smile cocked to one side.
“Howzit, Father Frank?!”
