Jim Thompson, �Pop. 1280�
This is part eight of an eleven-part story about Kaua�i, which begins here. Part six of the story is here. The rest, you�ll have to find on your own.
---
Well, I suppose something did happen. We did, after all, pick up my sister and her boyfriend.
My sister, as has been previously explained, is the exact opposite of me. One of the areas we differ in is taste in cars. She�s been driving consistently since she was 18. I�ve been driving off and on for about a year and a half now. She�s also big on convertibles and fast sporty cars, while I have people behind my car wondering what an old lady in the Buick is doing with a Dead Kennedys sticker on the back windshield.
Since I got to this island, I hadn�t driven at all. The thing is, I don�t particularly like driving. I think this comes from the fact that from the bicycle I rode all these years, I�ve been more prone to notice what shitty fucking drivers the rest of the world is. So I avoid it for the most part.
My sister, however, likes to drive fast in a car that looks good. So, when she got her convertible rental car, I was more than happy to sit in the backseat with the top down, especially since my father was one of those aforementioned shitty drivers.
We went to the timeshare apartment that her boyfriend had, and quickly noticed the second difference. While I�m fine with sleeping on my dad�s lumpy couch, she had a place that was bigger than the size of my old apartment. (Though this is not an entirely fair statement, since she�s stayed at my father�s house before, and I could see why she would rather sleep at this place.) Of course, as mentioned during the fishing entry, this meant she was staying on the other side of the island.
My sister�s new beau has either been coached on how to act around me, or is smart enough to handle it. The last guy I met that was with her turned to my sister in the middle of a conversation I was having with him, and exclaimed, �Gee, your brother curses a lot.� I never saw that guy again. And then there was the time she introduced me to a guy and followed up his name with the statement �he�s a republican.�
�So,� I said, �is that because you�re rich, or because you�re a heartless bastard?�
I never saw that guy again either. I should note that I�m not the possessive kind of brother who hates anybody who she dates. I�m just an asshole.
But she and her boyfriend got in late, and thus all we did was eat at a restaurant that encouraged people to bring their own booze. So we did. And then we went our separate ways, and I once again made bloody mary�s in my pineapple which now looked and felt like it wanted to whither and die and stop being used for a drink receptacle.
I finished this book in one sitting on the porch in my hammock chair, reading as double-crosses turned into triple-crosses, until the end where I counted at least seven-crosses.
And after typing all of this, I realize why I skipped over it the first time. Sorry.
