Over the Rainbow - Book One - 'The Gathering Place' by Robert Vaughan

raced down the winding country road in the
battered vintage Jeep, dodging and darting around gaping pot-holes
and muddy depressions. The Jeep, its ‘caution yellow’ paint faded
and battling for space with rust, was more than just a color- it
was a warning, a glaring reminder of the nature of its occupant,
for Alani was clearly not the most attentive of drivers. Weaving
wildly back and forth on the twisting country road, narrowly
avoiding yet another muddy ditch as she fumbled for a CD in the
case in her driver’s side visor, she finally found what she was
searching for and swerved violently at the last minute to avert
what would have certainly been a plummeting death over the cliffs
that hugged the edge of the narrow track. She slid the disk into
the player, and a moment later a rollicking take of John Denver’s
‘Take me home, country road’ by IZ- the late island singer Israel
Kamakawiwo’ole- tumbled forth. Alani smiled in satisfaction and
pulled the battered hat down tightly onto her head, taking a moment
to practice a hula motion with her hands- both of them.
    The questionable skills of its driver now quite
obvious, the various decorations that littered the outside of the
vehicle told a colorful story of their own, each one giving
additional insight as to the quaint and quirky nature of its
occupant. On the rusty rear bumper, a large ‘I (heart) NY bumper
sticker vied for space with another, three Japanese-style ‘Precious
Moments’ Hula girls with matching flowers and skirts. A huge logo
of the New York Yankees, tilted and slightly askew, graced the
cracked and worn tire cover that dominated the rear of the vehicle.
A final faded sticker, this one on the rusty and dented red gas-can
that was affixed to the rear of the Jeep read teasingly- ‘On nice
days I go topless’.
    In contrast to the overlapping tale on the outside
of the Jeep, two simple, distinct ornaments dominated its’
interior. The first was almost cliché- a swaying and shimmying hula
girl mounted to the dash, a Betty Page-style version of the
traditional dash-top ornament. The other was a simple plumeria lei,
fluffy orange ‘ilima petals alternating with the delicate cream and
yellow blossoms, one of which Alani reached to now, gently plucking
it from the swinging strand and tucking it casually behind her
right ear.
    At first glance the flower garland
would have seemed to be just an ordinary adornment to the antique
vehicle, but which upon closer inspection, one would notice that
this was far from just any old lei…
    It was virtually identical to the ones
the Matthews had received upon their arrival.
     

     
    The glider climbed slowly, lazily drifting skyward
on a warm thermal from the earth below. The music in Chris’ ears
built in thumping intensity and Chris’ heart began to race as if in
anticipation of something spectacular. A tiny pause in the melody
signaled the next movement, and with an almost casual flick of the
wrist, Chris provided the pay-off, pitching the sailplane over and
down as a crashing blast of percussion exploded in his ears in a
deafening crescendo. Falling in a straight-down spiral as the plane
plunged rapidly earthward, Chris yelled exuberantly as the glider
now became the world’s tallest roller coaster ride. “YEEEEE-HA!” he
cried, the ground below spinning and flashing toward him with
frightening speed. Then, just as the tree-tops began to become
distinct, Chris pulled firmly back on the stick and sent the
glistening craft rocketing skyward again, rolling and climbing as
it blasted through cotton-ball puffs of clouds.
    The glider climbed, and climbed, and climbed- the
ground below fading to a mass of overlapping green and red, the
small towns and outlying villages growing tiny and indistinct. As
the soaring white craft approached its’ zenith, its’ inertia
finally spent, it began to slow, and slow, and with a slight
shudder of ailerons and elevators- stalled. As the craft stopped
dead in the air, its’