Deep Inside Waimea Valley and a Deadly Game of Checkers

I was deep inside the Waimea Valley, and beads of sweat streamed down my brow as I carefully plotted my next move. If I moved diagonally to my right, I could capture my opponent’s stone while landing on a square beyond the reach of his advancing pieces. My options were rapidly disappearing, so this move had to work. If it did, I would force him into a corner, leaving him to play purely on the defensive. He would be pinned against the ropes, and victory—along with that sweet taste of freedom—would finally be within my grasp.

Big John keeps his poker face as he plays a very deadly game of checkers.

With a trembling hand, I gingerly lifted my white coral stone from the slab. I paused, just long enough to steady my nerves and lock eyes with my captor. I wanted to witness the humiliation on his face as his lowliest prisoner defeated him at his own game. I wanted every member of the tribe to see the mighty warrior humbled by the village waterboy.

Oh, he would be sorry.

Sorry he had taken me prisoner.

Sorry he had forced me to haul water down from Holik Amoli Mountain during the hottest part of every day.

Sorry he had made me dance each evening in that scratchy grass skirt and coconut bra simply to amuse the village grandmothers.

Yes… he would be very, very sorry.

(more…)
Posted in Adventurous Places, Hawaii, North America, Tall Tales and Big Fish Stories and tagged , , , , .