the very bar stools they were sitting on tonight. They scanned the bar area every few minutes in between sips of their drinks.
They shared the second story flat in an apartment building near the corner of Jones and Ellis streets. Joes was, along with twenty or so other eating joints, within easy walking distance. One of the charms the City afforded its tenants walking access to all of life’s basic needs. There seemed to be a bar, a laundromat, mom and pop market and a drug dealer on most of the City’s corners.
Italian food was basic need for Mac, not so much for Jimmy. Edinburgh Castle was more to Jimmy’s liking. The rustic, Ole English Pub atmosphere, and the dark, heavy flavored beer were part of Jimmy’s English-Irish heritage.
Mac and Jimmy valued being flexible in food matters. Theirs was a relationship based on high school experiences, appreciation of openness, law school and good old fashion kidding.
That evening they were discussing why sports in September were so much fun. Mac liked the pennant races and the anticipation of the baseball playoffs. Jimmy was looking forward to the start of the football season.
Funny the only sport they played together in high school was basketball. Their basketball minds had merged years ago, so talking was a mere formality. Slam dunk was their favorite term to describe a sure thing. Their favorite Wii game was NBA Challenge.
They were both looking into the massive mirror behind the bar. Mac tilted his head towards the mirror. He wanted Jimmy to take note of two guys dressed in dark suits pushing their way through the standing-room only bar crowd.
Jimmy seized the opportunity to make fun of their intensity. “Those men in black must be looking for an alien from the planet Uranus.”
Mac chuckled. “It looks like their fast break is being slowed down by some full court, crowd pressure.”
The two black-op types brushed off the dinner room hostess and walked gingerly into the dining area. The squared jaw man with the crew cut kept putting his hand in his coat as if to stabilize something.
“Do you think crew cut is packing?” Jimmy questioned.
“If he is, it’s none of our business.” Mac pushed back his bar stool. "I'm headed off to the bathroom."
“You know what they say about beer. You don’t buy it, you rent it."
Mac smiled. If he had a dollar for all the times Jimmy had said that very phrase, he could buy a round-trip ticket to Hawaii. Mac walked towards the back of the restaurant thinking of tropical drinks and hula girls.
Mac entered the semi-dark hallway leading to the bathrooms and the alley exit. He heard muffled sobbing. He followed the noise to the women’s bathroom door. He opened it and peeked in thinking I'm not a pervert, just making sure no one’s hurt.
He saw a young girl leaning against the counter, crying and shaking. She looked up at him. Their eyes met, with his eyes asking if she was ok? Then he heard the words. “Are you ok? Can I help you?”
She stood up. She was a slender five footish. Her long black hair trailed half way down her back. Her jeans and sweatshirt appeared a size or two larger than she needed. Despite her ruffled appearance, she had Mac’s full attention.
“Two guys have been following me all night,” she whispered. Mac immediately thought of the men in dark suits.
Just then they heard heavy footsteps coming from around the corner. The girl pulled Mac into one of the stalls. She knelt down in front of him, facing his back towards the door. She unzipped his pants, pulled them down to his knees and buried her head in his crouch.
Mac went into his ‘I’m easy mode’ not knowing what to expect.
The bathroom door swung open. One of the two black-op types looked in. He opened the door wider and said to the other. “Check this out. You won’t see a girl doing a guy too often in gay San Francisco town.”
The other guy peered in. “Ok. The girl's doing the work. You can get your rocks off later. Neil’s not going to be happy with us if we lose the Samoan bitch.”
The two men left and exited through the alley door. As soon as the bathroom door closed, the girl got up and looked Mac in the eyes. “Please don’t tell anyone."
He wondered what he was going to tell anyone. Maybe this stunning Eurasian girl took one look at me and couldn’t help herself. He felt like saying, the pleasure was all mine, but instead repeated his opening words. “Are you ok? Can I help you?”
She whispered “fa’afetai” and scurried out the door.
While he was pulling up his pants, he noticed the chopstick that held her long, black hair in a bun was on the floor. He picked it up. After slipping it into his pocket he dashed out into the hall and looked both ways. He scanned every inch of the restaurant on the way back to the bar.
Of course, just like in the movies, the girl had simply vanished. He went over to Jimmy and asked him “did you see a Eurasian girl with long black hair go through here?”
Jimmy looked puzzled. Then he grinned. “Six long legged Chinese types just finished dancing on the bar and left.”
Mac shook his head side to side and smiled. Mac sat down only to get up again. “I still have to go to the bathroom.”
Jimmy gaze sharpened. Mac said. “Hold that thought. I’ll have an unbelievable story for you when I get back.”
Mac entered the men’s room and took the chopstick out of his pocket. The holding end read ‘King Ling’. He knew the place.
Chapter 2 Kitiona and Her Father
Several years before entering Original Joe's, Kitiona Tuafa had been a senior at Manu’s High School in American Samoa. There as a naturally, spirited leader she was elected senior class president.
Kitiona had tamed her rebellious nature by joining the high school debate team. She cherished debating. It controlled her defiant spirit fueled by the cultural challenges. Her generation respected their elders but wanted to find their own way in today's world. Debate helped her gain respect within the community council. And ultimately helped her see beyond her cultural restrictions.
As class president she was given more societal leeway to champion causes dear to her heart. She questioned and pushed her way to the edge of her Samoan cultural roots.
Her favorite cause questioned the ‘Taupou System’ of institutionalized virginity. It was highly regarded in American Samoa culture. Her stance was slightly to the left of Margaret Sanger’s. Her intentions were to begin public conversations challenging the system. In Kitiona’s opinion, the established tradition shouldn’t be blindly accepted by the people.
Kitiona’s father, Patea, was highly respected in the Samoan community. His ancestors ruled Samoa until the modern times. He still was regarded as royalty without any of the trappings. He had been a star rugby player as a youth. The connections to royalty along with his sports popularity positioned him as the most important community leader.
Kitiona worshiped her father. Being the first of two children, Kitiona was the apple of Patea’s eye. He had pampered her from the first day he laid eyes on her.
Patea held his first born
