An excerpt from White People on Vacation, a novel by Alex Miller
After dinner we merged back into the crowd of tourists meandering down Ali‘i. I held Natalie’s hand, and the night felt warm, and the air smelled salty like the ocean. The whole scene might have been romantic except Roger wouldn’t shut up.
“Let’s rent a boat,” he said. “Tonight. Go out on the water. Dump some chum. Fish for sharks. Spear fishing. Spear fishing on a boat. Chum for tiger sharks and spear the fuck out of them.”
Avril rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything. She followed a few steps behind the rest of us, her arms crossed over her chest. We passed more tourist shops and restaurants. An old man sat in the doorway of some business that had closed for the night. He looked Hawaiian. He had a long beard that would have been white if it hadn’t been so dirty. As we passed, he coughed and spit a glob of something out of his mouth. He said something I couldn’t understand and held out his hand. We ignored him and kept walking.
“I hate beggars,” Natalie said.
“Hawaii is full of bums,” Roger said.
“They only come here because people give them money,” Natalie said. “The suckers who give money feel good about themselves, but it only encourages more begging. The suckers are part of the problem. A lot of Hawaiians make a living asking people for money. And not a bad living, either. Not in a tourist trap like this. It’s all stupid. Don’t give homeless people any money.”
The more Natalie talked, the more I wanted to go back and give that guy a five-dollar bill. But I didn’t. I kept on walking with everyone else.
“We should fuck with a bum tonight,” Roger said. “Act real friendly and get him drunk. Then when he passes out, toss him into the ocean.”
Natalie laughed. She looked at Roger and made eye contact, and he laughed. Natalie and Roger shared a special moment together laughing about bums.
We left the sidewalk and entered a damp alleyway. Natalie used her phone to navigate. She took us to a building that looked like a warehouse. Electronic music emanated faintly from inside. A large sign over the entrance spelled Sunlight in plastic yellow letters. A small group of people huddled beneath it. We joined the huddle. Natalie rifled through her wallet and handed me some cash. A bouncer, big and Hawaiian, leaned against the wall and looked bored. Sometimes he talked to girls on their way inside. At the door, I paid with Natalie’s cash. We went inside, and the place looked like any other club except with a lot more wooden tiki figures.
The bartender was Hawaiian and pretty. She said aloha just like the clerk at the hotel, emotionlessly, as if repeating the word ad nauseam at her place of work had stomped all life and meaning out of it, like if she said it one more time she might put a gun in her mouth and blow her brains out all over the bar. I ordered fruity drinks and paid for them with Natalie’s credit card. We found a table in the back. We sat down and sipped our drinks. My friends went to the dance floor. I remained seated and continued drinking. My drink tasted sweet and good. I watched my friends dance. First Avril and Natalie danced together, then Natalie danced with some Hawaiian guy with big muscles. He wore a sleeveless shirt to show off his muscles. He had the right idea. If I ever developed big muscles, I would only wear sleeveless shirts. I’d take all my regular shirts and rip out the sleeves.
A sweet, rummy flavor coated the inside of my mouth. My drink tasted like pineapples and sugar. I watched Natalie and Roger dance close and whisper. I finished my drink and burped sugar and pineapples. I stood up and went to the dance floor. The music sounded weird, some mash-up of electronica and Hawaiian, something I’d never heard before. I touched Natalie from behind, and when she saw me she looked surprised. Roger danced by himself for a while. Then he danced with a white girl with dreadlocks.
“Funny seeing you here,” Natalie said.
“You’re a good dancer,” I said.
“I know.”
She moved away to dance by herself. I didn’t follow, didn’t want to bother her. I didn’t want to get in the way of her having fun and dancing with whomever, maybe Roger or another asshole with his sleeves ripped out. We’d been dating for a long time and understood the importance of space, spending time with other people. I found Avril dancing alone. She smiled at me. We danced. Orange light from tiki torches flickered across her skin.
“Move to Japan with me?” I asked.
“Do you even know how to use chopsticks?”
“Move to Japan with me and eat McDonald’s?”
Avril told me I was funny. She said we didn’t talk enough.
“Move to Japan and talk to me,” I said.
“I want to see you tonight.”
“I don’t know.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Maybe,” I said. “I don’t know.”
We danced close. I enjoyed the soft pressure of her tits against my chest. I felt good. I felt a lot of other things too. I felt guilty about Natalie. I felt confused. I felt like I’d screwed up my whole life and didn’t know how to fix it.
Lights flashed, painting Avril blue, then yellow, then blue again. I wanted to stay on the dance floor with her forever.
“Tomorrow,” I said.
