Chapter 21
All Bust Up
I was sitting out by the corral on Pete’s old koa bench talking to his horse, Kokoro. Right in the middle of my discussion, that horse starts screaming and stomping and prancing around. I was so startled I barely heard a familiar voice over my shoulder.
“Hello Bill. I see you didn’t let the house burn down while I was away.”
Standing there behind me with a couple of saddle bags hanging from his shoulder, stood Paniolo Pete. He’d aged little in three years. He looked pretty much the same, except for a new scar on his face. We shook hands and while we were greeting each other, that darn horse of his reared into the air and gave out another of those ear shattering screams.
“Well, it looks like someone missed me. How ya doin’ boy? I see you put on a little weight while I was gone.” When he climbed into the corral, that mean old war-horse was about as excited as a boy waitin’ for Santa Claus. Kokoro pranced around the corral, kicking up his hooves and bursting with joy at the sight of Pete. I was a might pleased myself, but I’m not a very good dancer, so I just stood there grinnin’.
“Bronco,” Keala yelled from the barn, “no make hu-hu with Paniolo’s horse. Pretty soon he come home and we both get scoldings.”
“Listen to that Hawaiian, Bill. Not only is he big, he’s smart too!”
At the sound of Pete’s voice, a very excited Keala came running out of the barn. When he reached Pete, he put his massive arms around him and lifted him off his feet in a big bear hug.
“Aloha brah. I miss you plenty.”
Noelani came out of the house to see what all of the commotion was about. The minute she saw Paniolo Pete, she ran down the steps toward the corral to give him a big hug.
“Paniolo, good you home. We get plenty trouble with those pilau growers down the road. You go talk to them so Keala no need break their heads. He like bust ‘em up already.”
Over coffee on the lanai, Pete was able to get the full story of what had been going on. It seems that some large company out of San Francisco had purchased a large parcel of land in Kona and was now trying to buy out all the other coffee growers. Although there was not yet any proof, it was evident that the large company was using strong-arm tactics and intimidation to convince the smaller farms to sell. There had already been a few unexplained ‘accidents.’
Johnny, the Texan who worked for Pete, was now a happily married family man and raising coffee on his land. As a smaller farm, he was getting pressure to sell, and Noelani was worried about him.
“Paniolo, you know Johnny get one thick head and he no sell. You gave him that land for a wedding present and no matter what, he no sell. You go talk to him and make everything good again so I no need worry.”
As they were talking, Johnny’s wife and his newborn daughter stepped out onto the lanai to greet Pete. When Pete heard that Johnny had sent his family to the Double ‘P’ until the trouble cleared up, he realized how serious the problem was. Johnny was never one to over react. He must have felt his family was in danger.
“Bill, you feel like taking a ride this afternoon? I’d like to see Johnny and find out who these people are. Keala, I’d appreciate you keeping an eye on things around here until I can find out how serious these city boys are.”
Although Paniolo Pete had been gone for almost three years, it seemed like he’d never left. He took charge, and everyone naturally followed his orders.
As Pete and I were saddling up our horses, Keala came out to the barn looking a might worried. “Brah, I plenty sorry you come home and get all this trouble. After you go talk story with Johnny, you come back home. No go make trouble with those haole without me, or you be plenty sorry.” Although Keala said this with a smile, there was deep concern written on his face.
“We’ll be home in a few hours. A couple of old cowboys like Bill and me aren’t looking for trouble. I’d just like to check on Johnny-boy before that big luau you promised me tonight.” Pete smiled at his friend, gave him a reassuring wink, and we headed off.
The Double ‘P’ Ranch had grown quite a bit over the years and it took us close to an hour to reach the front gate. There, tacked to the gate post was a note that read:
Dear Owner,
We, the Maxell Home Corporation, are interested in acquiring your land at a fair and just price. One of our representatives will contact you in the near future to finalize the deal.
Sincerely,
Paul W. Maxell
Vice President
Maxwell Home Corp.
“Well Bill, I imagine this Maxell character is the one we’ll have to see. What do you say we make a quick check on Johnny to let him know his wife and daughter are missing him, and then take a short ride into town? I’d like to think this Maxell is a reasonable man, and if we ask him nicely, he’ll leave our friends alone.”
Pete was about to learn otherwise. We were strolling our horses down the dirt road when a big truck came around the turn and passed us. It was going pretty fast, and hanging on the back roll bar were three rough looking boys and two more were in the front seat.
Now my horse and I had been around a few automobiles in our time, but Kokoro had spent the last three years running wild on the Double ‘P’ while Pete was in New Zealand. Even if Kokoro had seen cars before, he reacted like this was his first. The great stallion started prancing around the road almost as though he was planning on charging that big truck. And knowing Kokoro, he might have if Pete hadn’t reined him in and walked him off the road. Pete didn’t seem too excited and once Kokoro calmed down, we continued on at our leisurely pace. Johnny’s house was a couple of miles up the road and we reached his fifty-acre spread around lunch time.
“What do you think Bill? Did Johnny ever learn to cook better than those biscuits he made for us the last time we were here?”
“Don’t know, Pete, but I reckon we can always use them to drop our lines next time we go fishing.” We both chuckled.
In fact, it wasn’t Johnny who had made the rock hard biscuits. It was a few years ago, and he had only been married a short time. I reckon his wife didn’t know much about cooking because those were about the worst darn biscuits I ever ate. But Johnny is a gentleman from the South, and he never told us that she was the one who had made them. He good-naturedly took all our verbal abuse and sent us packin’ with about two dozen biscuits hidden in our saddle bags. I reckon he told his wife we liked her biscuits so much we ate them all.
The small cabin we’d helped Johnny build looked deserted when we first rode up. The front door was open, but nobody seemed to be around.
“I suppose since his wife is gone, he figures he lives in a barn. We may as well get some water while we’re here and leave him a note. The Hawaiian promised me a luau tonight and I was hoping Johnny could join us.”
As we were dismounting, we both heard a noise coming from inside the house. We approached the front door cautiously and were stunned by what we saw. The normally tidy house was in shambles. Broken chairs, an overturned table, flour spilled all over everything, and Johnny was lying face down in the middle of it. What we’d heard from outside was the moan of a man in deep pain. Someone had beaten him badly, and judging by the look of things, it had happened pretty recently. His face hadn’t had time to bruise or start swelling, and his split lip and broken nose were still bleeding. One thing for sure, he was not going to be a pretty sight by this time tomorrow. But neither of us was much concerned about his looks at the moment. We both knew the more serious wounds are usually on the inside. A broken rib can easily puncture a lung or there could be internal bleeding. These were the kind of injuries we were worried about. Whoever had beaten Johnny had done a good job of it. As we checked for more serious wounds, Johnny regained consciousness. As Pete was wiping blood off Johnny’s face, we watched his expression change from confusion to pain, and finally settle into shocked disbelief as he looked up at Pete.
“Why hello, Johnny, I hope this beating was over nothing more that you serving them
your hard old biscuits again.”
Johnny smiled through his cracked lips and mumbled a soft “Howdy,” as he tried to sit up.
“Whoa partner, hold on a minute. Let me finish cleaning you up a bit before you try to sit up. You’re ugly enough without all this blood and dirt covering your face. Come to think of it, maybe it’s an improvement. What do you think, Bill? Johnny does look a sight better with his face all covered.”
“I reckon you’re right, Pete. Johnny always was one to start a new fashion.”
When Pete was done cleaning up Johnny’s face, and the Texan cowboy was back on his feet, we got the whole story of what had happened. Those boys in the truck that had spooked our horses earlier that day were the same ones who had beaten up our friend. They had come with their final offer for the ranch and when Johnny refused to sign over his land, they started beatin’ on him.
“Shoot fellas,” he told us in a somewhat defeated tone, “I reckon I could have held my own against a couple of them, but there were just too darn many of ‘em.”
I could see his pride was wounded worse than anything else, and I agreed with him that none of us could have fought off that many men single-handedly. I also assured him that next time we’d make sure it was even odds, and he’d get another chance to redeem himself. The thought of getting another chance at those roughneck bullies seemed to cheer Johnny up a bit. No man likes to lose a fight but it’s especially hard when you’re outnumbered and it’s not a fair fight.
Paniolo Pete seemed to be in pretty good spirits this whole time, which surprised me. I’d expected him to be mad as a bee-stung bull over the beatin’ of his friend. But as usual, Pete didn’t react as one would expect him to. I had learned through the years to read some of his moods and reactions. This was one of the few times I was pretty sure I was right in judging what was happening. The reason Pete wasn’t angry was because he had already decided on a course of action and as far as he was concerned, the problem had been solved. I don’t reckon it ever entered Paniolo Pete’s mind that he still faced a very real problem. The hardest part of solving it was yet to come, but I guess he thought once he figured out a plan of action, it was as well as done. As long as I’ve known Pete, that’s been the case. Once a problem had been solved in his mind, he just dismissed it. The problem no longer existed. It may not have worked out exactly the way he planned it, but the result was the same.
“Bill, how about you take Johnny here back to the Double ‘P’ and get ready for the luau tonight? Kokoro and I have got some catching up to do, so I think we’ll take a little ride before we head home. I’ll see you around sunset.”
As he was mounting his horse I asked him, “Would you like me to get Keala and the boys to meet you in town?”
“Why no, Bill, I imagine this Mr. Maxell is a fair man and probably doesn’t even know what happened. I’d like to believe it’s just some of his boys getting a little carried away to impress the boss.”
As promised, Pete returned to the Double ‘P’ around sundown. When I asked what happened, he simply stated, “Mr. Maxell and I reached an agreement, and he won’t be bothering us anymore.”
Since I wasn’t with him, I don’t reckon I can give you a true account of what happened. Pete didn’t say anything except how good the food was and how good it was to be home and how much he missed us all while he was away. He told us the latest on Nickel and his beautiful Māori wife and assured us that as soon as he rested up, he promised to tell us more about his adventures abroad. He didn’t mention again the incident of the beating Johnny had taken or anything about Mr. Maxell and his company. If Keala’s cousin hadn’t come to the ranch for a visit the next day, we might never have gotten the story.
Keala’s cousin Moku, was the county sheriff. He arrived in the late morning, and as he rode up, everyone naturally stopped work to see what he wanted. Since it was almost lunch time, the Kahiona boys were told to fire up the barbecue, and in no time, the rich smell of Keawe wood circled the ranch. We all gathered on the lanai to wait for the meal to be served.
Although Moku and Keala resembled each other in looks and size, they were very different in character. Keala was always happy, smiling, and the first to laugh over whatever life threw at him. Sheriff Moku, on the other hand, had a stern manner and took law enforcement very seriously. We all assumed that he had come to follow up on Johnny’s beating. I reckon that’s why we were so shocked when Sheriff Moku turned all his attention on Paniolo Pete.
“Pete, I no like trouble in my town, so I ask you not to come into town for awhile. You went bust up those boys pretty good and they all took their money out of the bank and left town. Me, I no care. Those haole got what they deserved, but some of the businesses in town think you lost them money, so they kind of nuha over the whole thing.”
Paniolo Pete apologized to the sheriff and assured him he didn’t mean to cause trouble. Kokoro was a bit excited over him coming home and maybe he had gotten a little too playful. Pete agreed to stay out of town for awhile to let the big-shot business people cool off.
Noelani walked out with a big platter of teriyaki ribs and the girls followed with more food. While the ribs were cooking, we all munched on pupu.
“Moku,” asked Keala, “what happened in town last night? All dis buggah Pete say is ‘da problem is solved.’ Tell us what really happened. We all like know.”
So, over delicious barbecue ribs and in excellent company, we all relaxed and listened to Sheriff Moku tell his version of what happened in town the day before.