Death By Coconut – A Dr Weirdo Short Story

I was about to start lunch on a lovely Sunday afternoon, when our hand cranked doorbell brought me to attention. Normally our buddy Dr. Weirdo (not his real name) would think nothing of stopping on a Sunday morning and chatting. It didn’t bother Rose and me too much, because he usually supplied donuts and wonderful coffee along with a promise of a monetary reward.

I waited, but the coffee and donuts didn’t materialize. Ummmph, I snorted and then approached the door and it’s doorbell. I had a good retort in mind, but dropped it when I opened the door to find a nicely attractive blond woman looking directly at me. “Excuse me.” Which was delivered almost faster than I could piece anything together. “I’m looking for my friend Rose. I thought she lived here by herself.” Caught with virtually nothing to say I simply opened the door all the way and motioned for her to come in. I could sense her fear. The woman again mentioned Rose. “Does she live here?” Before I could comment, Rose whisked in from the bathroom with her warm robe and a towel around her head and said “This is my husband. He is a protecter. Let’s go put on some tea and then we can talk.” Rose and her friend left me speechless and a little peeved, but leery . . . luckily I heal quickly, especially with Rose around.

I went to my office and sulked for an hour. Rose knocked and came into my office and said, “Dr. Weirdo will be here in about twenty minutes. Can I make you a hamburger? I nodded my head and before I could mumble “yes” she was gone. I looked around and recognized everything except for a story which had yet to unfold.

As I sat down at the breakfast table, Rose entered with No Name Woman in tow along with burgers for the three of us. I sat and ate my burger in silence as Rose and “No Name” talked about Hawaii and how wonderful it was and what clothes “we” should bring with “us”. The good doctor, now joining us, nodded my way, winked, turned, and walked out the door. I saw a wrapped package on the counter like the kind we usually were given after a successful assignment. When I turned away the package left.

Looking directly at Rose and not wanting to sound hurt or snotty, I said nothing. Rose said it all, “My friend’s husband is planning to kill her. She heard him talking to a drunken buddy of his. They were playing catch with two coconuts! We’re leaving tomorrow morning separately. I need to protect Gina. We should be back home in two weeks . . . after mostly just enjoying the islands.

I don’t usually walk around with my jaw hanging open, but finding my wife leaving me and murder seaming to be on the menu, my mouth was open with nothing to say, so I just sat in silence with a nod of the head and a blank look for anyone who might stop in and look my way. Murder seemed a little far fetched, but it is a strange world. Gina somebody was no longer in the house, Rose had a number of things to do and would be leaving in a limo early the next morning. She waved and said, “I’ll be back in a couple hours. You don’t need to wait up and don’t do anything. . . trust me!”

I didn’t do anything until I was sure she was gone. I dialed Dr. Weirdo. He answered immediately and said, “I knew you would call. Yes, Rose asked for my help. I’m at the Emerald Queen.” Twenty minutes later, so was I. An hour later I had details and possibilities. Twenty-four hours later Rose was gone and on her way. Thanks to the good doctor, I had a room at a private estate, knew where Rose was and knew where her friend was. Thanks to our phones I could easily see where she was, while I was at Punakea Palms located in the foothills of the West Maui Mountains. I prayed that Rose wouldn’t think to check where I was.

Thanks to a private limo . . . actually a small car, I was able to follow Rose as she and her friend went into a small grocery store where she and her friend bought some fresh fruit and then carried out two huge coconuts. I thought to myself, “Must be a small luau tonight.” At breakfast the next morning over coffee I heard someone mention “crazy haoles” and a comment about “More people die annually from falling coconuts than from shark attacks . . . but two at the same time?” I almost choked and spilled my coffee on both my shirt, shorts, and underwear. As I wiped up my mess, my phone rang.

On the phone was Rose. She asked me to join her in Hawaii. She was a little upset. “Last night Gina had been fetching her husband and his buddy some Blue Hawaiians. She came back to find her husband and his buddy injured by falling coconuts.” Her sobbing and confusion on what to do didn’t help matters. “Could you join us and settle things down a bit and give us both a shoulder to cry on?” I promised I would. Unfortunately the husband and his buddy had been drinking and dancing around a Hawaiian Coconut Palm. Five witnesses had seen them. Apparently a number of coconuts rained down on them, but only one struck the husband, two struck his friend while Gina had been enjoying the evening breeze, watching the waves and the Hawaiian Green Sea Turtles. It was a shame, but sometimes things just happen. I promised to lend my shoulders to cry on if necessary. Rose and I like helping people.