Should he call? No. That was too much of a commitment. He wanted to
walk to the address and see how he felt when he got there, leaving open
the chance for a last-minute escape.
He decided to wait a day. Look up Kenso Nakano tomorrow, he told
himself. He walked back to the hotel by a different route and fell
asleep easily.
Later that morning, he walked to Tops again and on to the Ala Moana
Shopping Center. Acres of parking lot surrounded two decks of
stores--mainland chains and local names. There were fountains and
sculptures, a mix of tourists and islanders, and, at one end, a
Japanese department store named, "Shirokya." He spent an hour in
Shirokya admiring the packaging and design, listening to Japanese
music, and feeling proud of the evident care taken with details. _If
you're going to do something, do it well._
He crossed Ala Moana Boulevard to the yacht harbor where rows of large
sailboats were moored behind a stone breakwater. "Salty boats," he said
to a guy who was smoking at the end of a long dock.
"Better be. It's a mile deep right out there." He looked down at
Oliver, amused. Oliver was evidently too short for the Pacific.
He spent the rest of the day poking around Waikiki and considering his
visit to Kenso Nakano.
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