Page 90 of Deadly Aloha
Then, just before sunset, we got onto our surf boards, kayaks, paddleboats, and boats and headed out to sea. As promised, I brought Nishi personally out to see the ocean one last time. When others placed a lei in the water as they chorused akanikau, a grief chant of loss and love, Lu and I spread Nishi’s ashes into the sea.
The next night, we boarded Tommy’s boat. At Church earlier that day, I proposed a change of positions. Tommy had been acting more as the Club’s Medic than an Enforcer recently and the twins were picking up slack as Enforcers. I made it clear in no uncertain terms that I was not proposingthis as a punishment. Tommy was not lacking in his duties, but his talents were better served elsewhere. The twins were overqualified as Road Captain and Tail Gunner anyway. The vote was passed and new patches were passed out.
I’d been distracted with taking care of Lu the night we returned to O‘ahu to ask what happened to Jones until the next day. Apparently the twins had hooked the wheeling suitcase between their bikes and drove back to the farm with Jones between them.
In the week since we’d been back, they’d only opened the case twice to toss in a single cheeseburger and water bottle each time. And he’d been kept out in the hot sun next to a manure pile.
On the boat were the twins, Tommy, Lu, Tangaloa, and me. Since none of us were looking forward to opening that case, as soon as we got out to sea, the twins threw it overboard. It sank almost immediately. The twins each put a pair of goggles on and then dove in after it. They were gone just over two minutes before they resurfaced, and I got my first look at Weatherby Dalton-Jones IV.
Even with the dip in the ocean, the man was not in good shape. He was barely conscious, but I wasn’t concerned about that. We had ways of making him wake up. He was older than I expected, maybe mid-sixties? It was a wonder he survived a week in that suitcase.
After the twins stripped him of his very soiled, expensive clothing that he’d gone to work in, we got him back onboard. I kept Lu on the other side of the bow as they strung him up from the gaff.
To say Lu had been having a tough week was an understatement. She’d have her highs and her lows of grief, topped with pregnancy symptoms. She’d raided nearly every type of ice cream in Bacon’s massive freezer and then would cry when she’d eventually throw it up. She claimed she didn’t havea baby bump yet, but I swore it was there. Her hips were just slightly wider and she was starting to have a curve to her belly.
This, of course, was the absolutely wrong thing for me to point out to her. And I had to bend her over Bacon’s kitchen table and fuck her until we were both sated to convince her that I wasnotcalling her fat.
Jones’ pallor was all wrong. He looked more yellow than Caucasian, and his hair had fallen out in the ocean in clumps. His skin sagged unnaturally in places. Despite the ocean dip, he still smelled… Well, he kinda smelled like freshly roasted, rotten chicken.
Lu wasn’t the only one who gagged, but thankfully I had the foresight to bring some peppermint oil for under our noses.
When they were ready, I nudged Lu. “Anything you want to say to him before we get started?”
Lu shook her head. “Everything I had to say about Nishi, I said yesterday. I don’t want to hear anything from his mouth except his screams.”
“He’ll scream,” I vowed. “But I want you to stay back here.”
She nodded, “Trust me, I’m as close to him as I ever want to be.”
I gave her a quick kiss before approaching Weatherby Dalton-Jones IV. He was strung up with his arms out in a V and on his knees.
“You don’t know me,” I said in a low, menacing voice. “But I guarantee my face is the last one you’ll ever see. I don’t care if you know why I am doing this and I don’t care what your reasonings are for why you’ve done what you’ve done. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. You’re still going to die.”
The man’s scruffy, misshapen beard hid some of his face’s saggy skin that jiggled as he tried to move his mouth up and down to speak.
“Shhh…” I coaxed gently, putting my finger to his lips. “Don’t speak. Save your strength. As I said, I don’t care.”
I held my hand out, and Tangaloa placed the handle of a leather bullwhip on my palm. “Do you recognize this, Mr. Jones? You should,” I continued on without waiting for his answer. “It’s yours.” I curled it up in my hand. “Do you see the red it’s stained with? I was going to mimic those lashes. I memorized them. I know exactly where and how to strike.” The man’s eyes widened in fear. “But I decided against it.” His shoulders sagged in relief. “You shouldn’t be so happy to hear that, Mr. Jones. I’m sure you’re hungry. After all, you’ve only eaten two cheeseburgers in the past eight days. Cooking in that nasty suitcase. It must have been truly awful! So, here’s what I have decided. Out of the kindness of my heart, I will be giving your whip back to you.In pieces. Even death row inmates get a last meal, and I have chosen yours. And mark my words, Mr. Jones, youwilleat the entire meal. One way or another.”
I handed the whip back to Tangaloa to start cutting up. Pulling my dagger, I stepped even closer to him. “Are you aware, Mr. Jones, how much blood is in the human body? About nine to ten pints in a grown male.”
I made two quick incisions along his neck and another two along each collarbone. He jerked, gasping in pain, but the binds held him mostly steady. The cuts weren’t deep, but enough to separate the skin. I slid my blade into the one under his left collar bone and waited for him to look up at me. Then I used the knife to peel the skin down towards his breast a few inches.
He cried out, his voice hoarse and weak. Blood dripped from the wound as well as the layer of skin now pinched between my thumb and the blade.
“Such a delicate thing, skin. It’s our entire armor, and yet it breaks with barely a touch.” I walked over to the side of the boat and tossed the piece into the sea. “It holds our entirebody together. It keeps us warm and holds our muscles, organs, and bones into place. And yet,” I took another slice, getting even closer to the man’s nipples, “it breaks so easily! It makes you wonder if our ancestors had tougher skin and evolution eventually gave us this thin layer because humans were supposed toevolve. We were supposed to grow and become better.” I tossed the second shaving overboard. “People like you and me, Mr. Jones, we’re the lowest of evolution. We both enjoy hurting others. While I do it to protect my home and my ‘ohana,youdo it for a sick, twisted pleasure inside you. Either way,” I took a third slice of skin, “the result is the same.”
I flicked the skin into the seawater. “Now, Mr. Jones, I’ve been doing some research this week. I’ve hurt people, tortured them. Just the other day, I put a thousand fishing hooks into a man. Actually, you know him. Orknew him,” I corrected. “His name was Konstantin. Now, while that was fun, and a new experience for some, it was, like, the third or fourth time I’ve done that. I want to stay inventive and up to date on my tortures. So, you,” I pointed my dagger at him, “get to be my guinea pig.
“As I said, I’ve been doing some research. Trying to figure out the best tool to use when it comes to skinning someone alive. Now, I do know that if I do it slow enough and do various sections at a time, it’ll help whoever is getting skinned, in this caseyou, stay alive longer. And that truly is my goal.” The man let out a pitiful whimper. “What I don’t know is the best weapon of choice. I could use my dagger,” I held it up to show him. “It worked quite nicely, but I can see my hand cramping after a while. And,” I looked him up and down, “you have a lot of skin to take off. So, I brought some other items with me to see what works better, what hurts you the most, what takes off a full layer at once or do I have to really apply pressure to get it all in one go… As you can see, there’s a lot for me to figure out.” I gave him a studious look. “But I’m willing to learn if you are.”
I clapped my hands together, feeling almost giddy. This week was hard on me too, and yesterday especially. There were very few people present who knew I was the one with Nishi when she died, and a lot of people had questions. Wanting her memory not to be tainted, her family chose not to reveal the circumstances surrounding her death. I understood, and respected that, but it didn’t make what I had done any easier.
I’d never taken an innocent life before, and that was something I was going to have to live with for the rest of mine.
This boat trip wasn’t just about vengeance. It was cathartic, in a way. I would release my guilt and do my damnedest to move on, knowing I’d never forget.
“So, up first, we have a carrot peeler.” One of the twins handed me the small kitchen utensil. “Not to ruin the surprise, but I want you to know everything we brought with us, because later you might be a little out of it. There’s also a woman’s razor. I’m told, they’re very sharp. A cheese grater. I don’t have high hopes for that one, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to try. The twins—you remember the twins? They shoved you in a suitcase for a week—they have this watermelon peeler that they’re very fond of. I’ve tried it once before. It was to remove a tattoo though. Wasn’t a full-body removal like what we’re doing here. Plus, I used a nail gun to put that man’s skin back on, which I won’t be doing here.
