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datatime: 2022-10-08 03:31:34 Author:OYYWnJGH

Still, much of mis eluded the average haole, particularly the typical tourist, because on the one hand, Hawaii worked hard at its Polynesian image-Waikiki wallowed in it-and on the other, Hawaii was insistent upon its American status, indignantly reminding forgetful mainlanders that they were in the United States, not some foreign land.

Right, Sam. But she used to live with her uncle, in Chinatown, when she first moved to Oahu-that could open up a whole new world of friends and acquaintances.

This afternoon, Hully needed his friend's help, for two reasons. First, he needed wheels-his father had taken the Pierce Arrow to the Shriner game. Second, he needed a tour guide-because, despite whatever scant familiarity he had with local Asian customs, Hully felt that would not be enough for where he needed to go.

For a Coast haole (as mainlanders were referred to), Hully Burroughs had a better-than-average understanding of Hawaii's Japanese community.

Pearl sure seemed like an all-American girl.

Hully had gained his awareness, limited though it might be, through his friendship with Sam Fujimoto, the son of their maid at the Niumalu. Sam-a senior in prelaw at the University of Hawaii-had shown Hully the local ropes, when the mainlander had first arrived.

For a Coast haole (as mainlanders were referred to), Hully Burroughs had a better-than-average understanding of Hawaii's Japanese community.

He knew that Japanese owned many of the restaurants in Honolulu, that they repaired most cars and built most houses, that they worked behind most retail counters. And, anyway, you didn't have to be terribly aware to notice the dozens of Japanese teahouses, or the kimono shops, or the sake breweries, the Japanese-language newspapers, fish-cake factories, movie houses....

Right, Sam. But she used to live with her uncle, in Chinatown, when she first moved to Oahu-that could open up a whole new world of friends and acquaintances.

You and I, we only knew Pearl through the Niumalu, Hully said. "The only people in her life that we know, too, are musicians, hotel staff and guests."

Pearl sure seemed like an all-American girl.

Hully had gained his awareness, limited though it might be, through his friendship with Sam Fujimoto, the son of their maid at the Niumalu. Sam-a senior in prelaw at the University of Hawaii-had shown Hully the local ropes, when the mainlander had first arrived.

Hell, Sterling said with a laugh. The FBI man gulped down the rest of his rum punch. "I was just hoping I was full of crap."

He knew that Japanese owned many of the restaurants in Honolulu, that they repaired most cars and built most houses, that they worked behind most retail counters. And, anyway, you didn't have to be terribly aware to notice the dozens of Japanese teahouses, or the kimono shops, or the sake breweries, the Japanese-language newspapers, fish-cake factories, movie houses....

Nodding, Fielder rose; the two men shook hands. "See you there."

He knew that Japanese owned many of the restaurants in Honolulu, that they repaired most cars and built most houses, that they worked behind most retail counters. And, anyway, you didn't have to be terribly aware to notice the dozens of Japanese teahouses, or the kimono shops, or the sake breweries, the Japanese-language newspapers, fish-cake factories, movie houses....

The slender, smoothly handsome nisei-black hair trimmed military short (he was in ROTC at the Manoa campus)-was casual at the wheel of his dark blue '38 Ford convertible sedan; his sportshirt was a lighter blue, his trousers white, his shoes the slippers so common on the island (Hully was wearing a pair himself).

You and I, we only knew Pearl through the Niumalu, Hully said. "The only people in her life that we know, too, are musicians, hotel staff and guests."

Fielder sighed heavily. He finished off his rum punch and said, "All right, you stubborn s.o.b. Can you meet me at my quarters at six o'clock?" "Yes. Absolutely."

But despite the name, in Chinatown, the Japanese (and the Filipinos, too, for that matter) vastly outnumbered the Chinese, though the white tourists, coming and going from the main port at the foot of Nuuanu Street, rarely knew the difference, much less noticed how the Japanese and Chinese merchants kept their distance from each other, even when jammed side by side.

Maybe it is worth talking to him. Sam had never dated Pearl, but he knew her a littie, had spoken to her a few times. "But it'll probably be a dead end. My feeling is, she distanced herself from anything... overtly Japanese." He shrugged. "A lot of my generation do."

Maybe it is worth talking to him. Sam had never dated Pearl, but he knew her a littie, had spoken to her a few times. "But it'll probably be a dead end. My feeling is, she distanced herself from anything... overtly Japanese." He shrugged. "A lot of my generation do."

For a Coast haole (as mainlanders were referred to), Hully Burroughs had a better-than-average understanding of Hawaii's Japanese community.

He knew that Japanese owned many of the restaurants in Honolulu, that they repaired most cars and built most houses, that they worked behind most retail counters. And, anyway, you didn't have to be terribly aware to notice the dozens of Japanese teahouses, or the kimono shops, or the sake breweries, the Japanese-language newspapers, fish-cake factories, movie houses....

Still, much of mis eluded the average haole, particularly the typical tourist, because on the one hand, Hawaii worked hard at its Polynesian image-Waikiki wallowed in it-and on the other, Hawaii was insistent upon its American status, indignantly reminding forgetful mainlanders that they were in the United States, not some foreign land.

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