Hula Done It - By Maddy Hunter Page 0,30

she could not have stepped into the professor's shoes. It is most disappointing. In the meantime, this seemed an acceptable second choice." He gestured toward our surroundings. "A navigable river. Rented watercraft. Tropical vegetation. A secret waterfall. The only things lacking are a keg of beer and a more detailed topographical map. This one is poorly drawn."

He flashed the sheaf of paper he was holding before my face for a nanosecond, but that was all it took for me to see the cow-flop-shaped island with the big X in the middle. Poorly drawn map? It was the same map that was in my shoulder bag! He had a copy of the treasure map!

"Where did you get that?" I choked out. Oh, my God. Did this mean the Vikings were in cahoots with Percy and Basil? How else would they have gotten the map? Had the World Navigators joined forces with the Sandwich Islanders to eliminate Dorian Smoker? Why did people have to join forces? It made everything so complicated.

Nils regarded the photocopied sheet. "Ansgar and Gjurd purchased it aboard ship for much money." He slanted a narrow look at the Brits as they lugged their kayak down the boat ramp. "Too much money."

Eh! Had Percy and Basil soaked the Vikings for a reproduction of the map? Talk about unhealthy business practices. Not smart to price-gouge men who probably picked their teeth with the tip of some ancestor's broadsword. Oh geesch. Was it going to get ugly out at the Secret Falls today?

"Last one to the kayaks is a Republican!" a familiar voice boomed out.

"I want the yellow one! It matches my new sandals!"

"I have antibacterial hand sanitizer if anyone wants to clean their paddles!"

I whipped my head around to find Dick Teig, Bernice Zwerg, Margi Swanson, and everyone else from my Iowa contingent charging toward the kayaks like a flock of excited geese. What the --? What were they doing there? They were all supposed to be on other excursions, soaking up information that I could include in my newsletter.

"You'll excuse me," Nils said in a sudden rush. "The kayaks are quickly disappearing. I'll see you on the river."

"Wait!" I grabbed for his arm, but he bounded toward the waiting kayaks, jetting past my group as if they were standing still. Okay, this called for a major time-out.

Letting fly one of my signature earsplitting whistles, I watched all nine of my Iowans skid to a halt. Heads swung around in my direction. Eyes riveted on me. I threw my arms into the air at them. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be whale watching, visiting the Waimea Canyon, and shopping at Hilo Hattie's."

"This sounded more exciting!" called out Alice Tjarks. "So we exchanged our tickets."

I stared at them, dumbfounded. "Where were you sitting on the bus?"

"In the back," said Dick Stolee. "We got there early enough to stake out the good seats in the rear."

"The ones next to the restroom," Dick Teig explained. "There's a real sense of security knowing you can be on the road and only one step away from the john at the same time."

Nods. Smiles. More nods.

Oh, God. I searched the faces in the group, realizing I was short a couple of people. "What happened to Nana and Tilly?"

"Tilly accidentally flushed her visor down the toilet," Margi responded, "so she and Marion are trying to retrieve it. All I can say is, I hope she doesn't plan on wearing it anytime soon."

Oh, yeah. This was going well. "Look, everyone, I don't want to spoil your fun, but none of you have ever kayaked before. This is not a wise move. You could end up in back braces and cervical collars. You could aggravate existing conditions." I nodded toward Dick Teig. "What about Dick's arthritis? Osmond's rotator cuff? Lucille's anxiety?"

"My anxiety's better since my Dick passed on," Lucille Rassmuson announced. "I don't have to worry about his cigar ash incinerating the dog anymore. My therapist says I'm a whole new person because of it."

"Dog?" said Margi. "I thought you had cats."

"You have a therapist?" asked Bernice. "How much does that set you back a week? I bet Medicare doesn't cover it, does it?"

I rolled my eyes in frustration. "Listen to me! Paddling a kayak is hard work! It requires upper body strength. Stamina. Hand-to-eye coordination. I don't know if any of you should risk --"

"If you're gonna do it, how hard can it be?" Bernice challenged.

Heads bobbing. Murmurs of assent.

"Who cares about the kayaking," Dick