Page 2 of Pallas & Kawehi

The last thing she wanted to do was fall on her face and look like a fool.

“Moving here,” he explained.

“Welcome to the islands.” She placed the menu in front of him on the counter and gave him a smile. “Let me know if you have any questions. If not, just let me know what you’d like to order.”

He hesitated and then looked down at the menu.

“Hey!”

She cringed at the demanding tone of voice from one of the three guys who were now standing at the bowling alley counter.

Before she could answer,one of the guys banged the stapler against the counter. “Yo! Can we get some help?”

Kawehi pasted on a smile and took a step in their direction. “Sorry guys. I’ll be right there in one minute to help you.”

She looked at the locals who were sitting at the counter. “Can you guys take care of him for a minute while I help these guys?”

All of the guys nodded or answered her in the affirmative, one of them even gave her a shaka sign and said, “shoots.”

She made her way across the floor from the linoleum under her feet to the old blue carpeting.

By the time she got over to the bowling counter, she could tell the men were irritated and already had a few drinks in them.

“Hey, guys, what can I do to help you.”

“Don’t you guys have someone working the counter? This is ridiculous!”

She hoped that her smile hadn’t falter. “We don’t have many people coming in for bowling, so sometimes the staff covers both the bar and bowling. So, are you guys interested in bowling tonight?”

The look that passed between the three of them put her off. It changed their looks from post-college frat boys to… something else. Something harder.

“Yeah.” One of the guys shrugged and reached into his back pocket for his wallet. “Let’s get a lane and bowl a few games.”

“Great.” She smiled and she meant it. Revenue was revenue, whether it came from nice guys or not. “What are your shoe sizes?”

The first guy on her left gave her his size. “10.”

The guy in the middle looked her straight in the eye. “14.”

The last guy slapped him on the back. “Ha, right. I need a 12.”

The three pairs of shoes were set on the countertop.

In front of the men.

“I’ll set you up on lane six-”

“Naw, I want seven for luck.”

It was the guy in the middle again. “I feel lucky tonight.”

“Okay.”

It was simple enough to flick one switch off and another switch on.

The familiar whir of the equipment told her that the pin setter was doing its job.

“You can use any of the balls on the racks in here. Please don’t take your street shoes onto the floor and no horsing around please.”

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