Epilogue

Not everyone was thrilled to see the drug dealers run off the old Molokai Ranch. It was a very small island and the cash that was circulated by Azeri’s coked up cowboys had become a vital part of its miniscule economy. There weren’t a lot of people with enough money to spend on goods and services, except at the most basic subsistence level, so the absence of the illicit cash had a real impact on the lives of the locals.

Wally realized that Molokai would miss the income and he fretted the impact it would have on the locals that he had come to love since he and Soon-Li had moved there.

Business at the eatery was down but it didn’t matter much to them since they’d received a full share of the money from the raid, which came to just over a million dollars. That money wasn’t doing the economy much good though, because he and Soon-Li had vowed to use their ill-gotten gains to make the world a better place in some small way, though they’d yet to figure out exactly how.

One night shortly after the raid, Wally had a bizarre dream. He was swimming through clear blue water amid a colorful choral garden. He was quick and agile and he enjoyed being free from his overweight, sluggish body, darting effortlessly through the water like a dolphin.

Just when he was getting into the rhythm of his new body, he came across a jellyfish dressed in a dark suit, white shirt and sensible black dress shoes.

“Hey, four eyes.” the jellyfish called out.

Wally cringed. He’d be taunted by that name since he’d first showed up at school with the coke-bottle lenses in the first grade. Wally stared in the direction of the voice but didn’t speak.

The jellyfish came closer and Wally could see that he was wearing a name tag that said 'The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints' and below that, 'Elder Sea Nettle'.

“Whaddya want?” Wally asked.

“I just want to help you out, give you a little advice.”

“What kind of advice?” Wally was wary. He wondered if this was how it was for Soon-Li when she had her premonitions.

“Well, I know you’re wondering what to do with that money you stole.”

“I didn’t steal anything.” Wally shot back.

“Okay, have it your way, chump. It belonged to someone else and now you have it. Just because someone else carried the bags, doesn’t mean that you didn’t steal it.”

Elder Sea Nettle made an exaggerated gesture of looking upward and continued. “The big guy don’t split hairs like that, know what I mean?”

“I take it you have a point?” Wally asked.

“Shees, you mortals are an impatient bunch. That’s the same thing your friend Rudy said to me when I tried to help him out. I leave my comfy home in the Atlantic, come all the way here, and for what? To take your lip? I’d like to know what I did to piss the big guy off anyway. There has to be another agent somewhere closer to you bunch of yahoos.”

“An Angel? Did you say you’re an angel?”

“An agent, you overgrown wiener. I said I’m an agent. Angels all work for those Gospel pricks. They’re the big guy’s favorites and they never let anyone forget it.”

“So, there’s a God?” Wally asked.

“Well, yeah. I mean, no, not exactly.”

“Huh?”

“It’s not really a yes or no question, it’s complicated and humans don’t have the brain cells to get it. Plenty of you humans like to run around telling anyone that’ll listen that you know all about it though, and let me tell ya, it pisses the big guy off.”

“Try me.” Wally asked.

“Okay,” Elder Sea Nettle began, “Have you ever heard people say that the drummer and bass player are the engine that drives the band?”

“Um... yeah.” Wally answered, uncertainly.

“Well, it’s more like that. You play the lead guitar and create the music that is your life but the engine is what drives you forward.”

“So, God is a drummer?” Wally asked. “You’re telling me that God is Ringo Starr.”

“Lord, why do I bother?”

Wally sighed. “Okay, this conversation is going nowhere. See ya.”

He darted off but when he looked up Elder Sea Nettle was right in his face.

“See what I mean? That’s exactly what Rudy did too. Any of you mortals ever have an original thought?”

“Fine, you say you have advice, what is it?”

“Alright, listen up, fatty.”

“Hey!” Wally shouted at him.

“You do have a law degree, right?” Elder Sea Nettle ignored him.

“Um-hm.”

“And you did pass The Bar, albeit on, like, your ninth try.”

“Third try, asshole.”

“You and your wife are always talking about the injustice in the world, all the hungry children, the poor people abused by system, the environment, yadda, yadda, yadda. All that pansy-assed liberal drivel, right?”

“I guess so.”

“And now you have this new found wealth, you have friends with new found wealth and you know a very wealthy philanthropist. Ya with me so far tubby?”

“Okay, so?”

“So figure it out already, Dumbo.”

“Dumbo? Hey, you making fun of my weight again?” Wally shouted but Elder Sea Nettle was gone.

He woke up to find his side of the bed literally dripping water onto the floor. Soon-Li sat up and looked at the drowned rat next to her where her husband was supposed to be. Wally was soaking wet and dripping water like he’d just climbed out of a swimming pool. She blinked and squinted at him but said nothing.


Molokai had never seen a day like this one. Dignitaries from the state were there, including the Governor. Leaders from islands all over the South Pacific, Tonga, Samoa, Tahiti, virtually all of Polynesia had come and there was even someone from the ACLU.
And of course their friends were there, all of whom had contributed in many ways.

Rudy and Raven were taking some time away from Rudy’s book tour in support of “Just Desserts”, which was already on the New York Times bestseller list, his third bestseller in a row.

Pete and Okelani were just back from their Honeymoon. Pete had sold his bar in Salt Lake and bought a boat renovating business. It was a little one-man shop that specialized in rebuilding classic wooden sail boats for wealthy clients.

They had one tiny dry-dock on the Big Island, a few miles down the coast from Kona, where Pete and Okelani were learning their trade from the proud old Hawaiian craftsman they had purchased the business from. As part of the deal, he would apprentice them for a year, teaching them all they needed to know about wooden sail boats and how to restore them. Then he would assume a comfortable retirement, thanks to the money he had netted from the sale.

And of course, Charlie and Jenny were there. Since Charlie had concluded his business with Leonard Azeri, he had found a new vocation as a Philanthropist. He persuaded Jenny to sell her interest in Cheeseburger in Paradise to her partner and head up The Chloe Connors Foundation. She agreed only after marriage was incorporated into the deal.

The Polynesian Law Center had been the Foundation’s first big project and Charlie and Jenny had thrown themselves into it with gusto. Charlie handled the real estate issues and the design and construction of the center while Jenny dealt with the Organizational and Administrative issues of both the Foundation and the Center.

While working with draftsmen on the plats of the Molokai Ranch, Charlie had discovered an interest in architecture and he’d found a renewed passion while working with the architects on the design of the Center.

This was no tiny law firm; it was a beautifully crafted, state of the art building set amid coconut groves and Japanese gardens, that could house up to 50 attorneys and their staffs, though it was starting out with 10 attorneys. The attorneys and staff would provide a boost to the local economy like it hadn’t seen since the now departed pineapple companies had arrived decades before.

For some, it was too much development for the sleepy little island but Charlie had gone to great lengths to minimize the impact that the influx of white collar liberals would have on the island. He had been actively involved with local leaders in planning housing and other infrastructure in an intelligent, efficient and environmentally friendly community.

All of the construction and been contracted to Bill and Ben’s company, B & B Construction. When they had gotten involved in the raid on the ranch, their construction company was in the middle of the largest project it had ever handled, a 90 unit luxury apartment complex on the North Shore.

Landing the project had been a huge coup for the small company but had taxed their limited resources to the point that they were in danger of defaulting. The $2.4 million that their combined take had come to had saved the project and their company. With all the work on Molokai in addition to their other business, they were thriving and enthusiastically gave back to their community in many ways.

Now that the Center was complete, the Chloe Connors Foundation was hard at work on plans to build a drug rehab center on the island’s east end. The rehab center would be headed by none other than John Corbin, the former junkie that Charlie had flown to rehab nearly 2 years before.

At two o’clock, just as scheduled, Wally stepped up on the makeshift stage. The Polynesian Law Center had been his idea and it had been his enthusiasm and energy that had pulled the elements together to make it happen. He’d found a renewed passion for the law and underdog causes that he’d lost many years before.

Since his fire had been reignited he had lost 80 pounds and now, standing at the podium, he was the spitting image of the liberal civil rights lawyer, right down to the tweed jacket with elbow patches and his gray-haired ponytail.

“I want to thank you all for coming today. This has been a dream of mine since I was a young man watching the great work done by the Southern Poverty Law Center and the ACLU. I have to admit that somewhere along the way, I lost that dream, that vision, but whatever force drives our universe didn’t let that dream die altogether.”

He went on to thank the people who had contributed their time, money and effort to the cause. Of course, Wally and Soon-Li had contributed all of their raid money.

Rudy and Raven, had also contributed all of their money from the raid plus a few hundred thousand more from Rudy’s royalties and Ravens profits.

Pete had purchased his new business with the proceeds from the sale of The Prankster and donated all of his raid money to the Center.

The Chloe Connors Foundation had either raised or contributed the rest of the Center’s financing.

Once the thanks were out of the way, Wally spoke passionately and without notes about the need for a legal advocate for the poor, the forgotten and the voiceless. He said that the Center’s mission included education and intelligence gathering for the purpose of advocacy for immigration equity, civil rights and against racism and political extremism.

When he finished he got a stirring ovation from the crowd, most of whom were teary eyed by now. The Governor stepped to the podium and gave Wally a two-handed shake and leaned into the mike, still clutching Wally’s hand. Over the roar of the crowd he said, “Ladies and Gentlemen, the man of the hour: Walter Wanker!”

The ovation rose to a fever pitch.

Raven leaned toward Rudy, as they both continued to cheer. “I didn’t know he had it in him. That was incredible.”

“Martin Luther King couldn’t have delivered that speech any better.” Rudy agreed.

When the speeches were done, Wally circulated through the crowd, shaking hands, accepting congratulations and well wishes. He was beaming and so was Soon-Li. She had always known what a good man Wally was and now the rest of the world was finding out too.

“Hey, did you hear about Circe?” Pete asked as they relaxed with their Champagne.

“No, what about her?” Rudy asked.

“She escaped from prison. She was on her way to court for an appeal hearing. Apparently she’d been having an affair with one of the guards. He was supposed to be driving her to court and he just drove away with her instead. They found the prison car hidden in the bushes a couple of miles from the Federal Pen in Lompoc.”

“No shit?” Rudy asked.

“No shit.”

“Some things never change.” he said, shaking his head.

Wally stopped by and they congratulated him on the speech.

“We’re proud of you, Wally. You did a great job.” Raven said.

“Yeah, we’re all proud of you.” Rudy echoed.

After he left, Raven leaned close to Rudy’s ear. He could feel her hot breath; almost feel the wetness of her lips though she wasn’t quite touching him.

“You know,” she said. “You did this.” She made a sweeping gesture with her arm and they looked around the beautiful campus.

He gave her a puzzled look.

“None of this would have happened if you hadn’t come to the islands. All these people, all these jobs, all the people whose lives are going to be richer because of this place, it’s all because of you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I didn’t do anything, it was all of these people who did this. Wally, Charlie, you, Pete, Soon-Li, Jenny, Bill and Ben. It was everyone who did this, especially Wally and Charlie.”

She shook her head. “We all worked, we all contributed but you were the catalyst that brought us together when you showed up on my doorstep. You were the first domino to fall, the one that put all of this in motion.”

“I see your point.” he said thoughtfully. “And I’d love to take the credit, but by that reasoning, it was actually Circe who started it all. Her message on my answering machine, that little green blinking light, that’s what set this whole chain of events in motion. By your theory Circe was the first domino to fall.”


The green-eyed blonde had acquired a nice tan in the short time she’d been in the Caribbean. She accepted another Mai Tai from the Pool Boy and took a sip as she watched his muscled brown body disappear toward the bar.

Jamaica was pleasant but it was a little too close to Belize, where she’d ditched the prison guard. It was time to find a place to settle down. It was time to find a rich old man with a short life expectancy.

Tomorrow she’d move on. Down Island, she was thinking. Maybe St. George’s, or Port-of-Spain.