This was turning out to be a much better reunion than I ever imagined. We spent some time going from table to table, seeking out old friends and catch...ng up. We danced. We ate. After dinner, Debby excused herself. “Your place or mine, big-boy?” she kidded, stepping away from the table. I mouthed silently, ‘How about yours?’ She held up ten fingers, indicating her room number. I gave her a couple of minutes, then followed, rapping gently on her door. She opened the door, still wearing her simple. Come on. We go find Joe Moto." She led them down Lewers Street and turned on Kuhio Avenue, stopping in front of an ancient frame building with a faded sign on its porch. The sign depicted a sick-looking palm tree. Beneath this time-worn cutout could be seen the name, "Pacific Paradise Hotel." The grounds were shaded by kukui trees and the moist, warm air was cloying with the sweet scent of frangipani. Behind the office they could see, half hidden by the lush, tropical growth of shrubs and. More

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