|Bettejo Dux has lived on the cosmic Garden Island of Kaua'i for over 40 years.Bettejo is a regular columnist in the Garden Island news and is the author of the|
famed novella, "The Scam."
SUNSHINE CITY KAUA'I
I picked her up at the airport. She wore a backpack. This lady knew how to travel. We circumnavigated the Mall, taking off for the golf course and a narrow neck of suburbia. When the road turned, we were in wilderness Kauai. Jungle growth, tall fields of green grass. The narrow two lane road wound, dipped, and curved.
At a stop sign, where we turned right, my passenger gasped. It was heaven on earth. On either side of another narrow two lane road acres and acres and acres, on either side of the road, bloomed and blossomed and billowed with life. Natures’ patchwork quilt of green and gold sunshine.
“We grow lettuce and carrots and spinach. Maui onions. Tomatoes. We’ve got several citrus groves. Lemons, oranges, limes. Kauai oranges are ugly but they’re delicious. Papaya and coffee and coconut groves. We’ve an apiary with the sweetest bees in the state. Their honey is sweet, too. They’re happy here.
We’ve a large wind farm up by the highway under which a herd of Angus graze in green meadows.”
“Oh, grief. They’re out. Someone left their gate open. They’ll be in the carrots.”
Suddenly two bovine, contented Belle and Boss, appeared and ambled down the road. Vendors spilled from their road side stands trying to turn them back.
“The guy who owns them is eccentric. They’re his expensive hobby. They reside on ten acres. He milks them himself. Sometimes he sells the milk. Sometimes he gives it away.We can do all this because the guy who owns this land leases parcels yearly-at a reasonable rate-to those who are serious about growing organic food to feed people.”
When the road disappeared my passenger gasped. “What happened?”
“Underground parking. No automobiles allowed topside.”
I parked the car in the expanse and we took an elevator up. When we stepped out my passenger gasped again. “Where did this come from?”
I laughed. “It’s huge. It’s high. It’s completely self-sustaining. It also snuggled into the cliffs. Camouflaged to blend. Greens.Purples. But the import thing is everything you need is within walking distance. Shops. Restaurants. Post Office. Banks. This is kind of the mall lobby. Offices are on the second floor. Studios, two and three bedroom apartments above. The rich guy lives in the penthouse but he walks around like a mortal. There he is. Looks like Robert Redford, huh? Wave. He loves to see people like you. You come from all over the world to see this.
Rich. Poor. Young and old. Black, white, yellow and brown walk around in here. Work. Play. Tennis courts. Pools. Miles of paths. There are quaint cottages, kind of old plantation style, clustered about. Affordable. We’ll visit one after lunch. Wanna buy some Kauai perfume?”
“Ladies,” the Robert look- alike called, “may I join you for lunch?”
When the rooster crowed at the break of dawn-I swear the thing was on the roof-I woke with a start. “I’m gonna grock you to fullness, bird. That was a good dream.”
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