“You had the rye, yeah?” she said and sauntered off, her low hips swaying. Lett watched her go. She had dark skin with faint pockmarks on her cheeks, narrow oval eyes, and long black hair swinging loose. At first glance she looked more Polynesian given her browned curves, but her individual features were sharper, as if Japanese. It depended on the angle. She could’ve pulled off a kimono or a grass skirt, but she was wearing a utilitarian dress of mauve, a little pocket on one breast, a bigger pocket on a hip, with a built-in belt.

A flash of shame shot through him. If Heloise saw him eyeing a girl like this, she would whack him so hard he could only hope he had a head cover. He sipped at his second rye and tried to relax. He exhaled and stretched out his legs and rested a heel on the other stool. The waves still rumbled out there and the sky dimmed the light between the trees, but maybe he was going to ride this out after all.

The local girl was now sitting at the bar. She gave him a sidelong look. She came back over with a drink.

“I’ll just nurse this one I have,” Lett said, “but thanks.”

“Eh? Look here, bub, I’m not the help.”

“No? Oh, but I . . .” The barman was gone, the bar unmanned. The drink was hers. “My mistake, sorry.”

Her lips made a sound like a balloon letting out. “Forget it. Happens all the time to us locals.”

“What happened to our barman? He scared of a little weather?”

She chuckled. “He scared of you—he won’t come out of the back. He almost called the MPs. But ‘calm down,’ I told him, said that you’re okay. You okay, yeah?”

“I am. Thank you. Would you like a seat?” Lett lowered his heel from the stool.

She looked around, then shrugged and sat with him, setting out a pack of Chesterfields and a shiny lighter Lett couldn’t take his eyes off. It was gold and etched with Chinese characters and a snakelike dragon spitting fire. He didn’t even smoke but it made him want to light up.

“Snazzy lighter,” he said.

She looked around again, stretching her proportionally thick and yet somehow petite neck. “Mahalo.”

“Where’d you get it?”

“Honolulu.” Her fingertips neared the lighter.

“Chinatown?”

“Something like that.”

“From China, though?” Lett said. “Originally, I mean.”

“From a friend.” She shook her head and finally lit up a cigarette. “You know what, army guy? Maybe you not so lolo after all.”

“Lolo?”

“Crazy man. But possessed, like. That’s what barman says. Me, I think otherwise. Plenty mainland haoles, they don’t notice details like you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. So, is your friend in Chinatown?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Some haoles, maybe they ask too many questions.”

“Oh. Okay, fair enough.”