The Laughing Pokers is an old run-down medicine shop, situated in the middle of Honolulu’s Chinatown. Step inside, and you are greeted with the intoxicating aromas of camphor and roasted tea leaves. The proprietor of the clinic is an old sugarcane worker who is fluent in eight languages, including Gibberish and Pidgin. In fact, many of his most frequent customers were pigeons. They would fly in intermittently throughout the day, with hundred-dollar bills in their beaks, and bail out with thin spikes all over their bellies as part of their prescription.
For you see, this old man, named Kaulana, was a self-taught acupuncturist. He had stirred controversy for using needles on goldfish and for playing knick-knack on his clients’ thumbs with thumb tacks. After giving a handful of his patients his cure-all remedies, called “paddy-whacks”, and for giving their clients’ dogs a bone, they all went rolling home feeling much better, though they would look like porcupines.
One day, Kaulana opened the door to find a peculiar sight. A young lady who looked like a nightclub worker entered the lobby.
“Hello, young lady,” said Kaulana.
The young lady was silent.
Kaulana tried again. “Hello, Miss Young Lady.”
“I’m married,” said the young lady. “And my name is Mai.”
“Well, Mai. What can I do for you?”
Mai looked around, unsure of what to do next.
“I’ve heard you are the best needle-doctor in all of Hawaii. I want you to use your needles to help cure my back,” She lifted the back of her shirt up. Her back was red and swollen and was riddled with belt-marks.
“Okay,” said Kaulana. “I’ll relieve you, but only for a large fee.”
Mai took two thousand-dollar bills from inside her purse. Kaulana beamed.
“Right this way,” he said with vigor.
Kaulana led Mai to a room behind the lobby. He then told her to lie on one of the client beds. The bed was made from lava rocks recently flown in from the Kilauea volcano. They were fresh from the crater and still a bit hot.
“Ow!” Mai shouted. “How could anyone lie on this bed? You could bake a fresh batch of manapua on it!”
“The heat from the rocks is good for you,” said Kaulana. “It helps with blood circulation.”
“What?” Mai tried to protest, but she could not turn her mind away from the scorching, searing, sizzling agony of the lava rocks pressing on her back. The entire chamber started to smell like burning meat mixed with cheap perfume.
“Okay,” said Kaulana. “You can get up now.”
Mai jumped out of the lava bed. Her entire backside was the color of a grilled ahi fillet.
“Thai was just Step One of your treatment. Now for Step Two.”
Kaulana guided Mai to a bathtub in the far corner of the room. It was six-feet deep and filled to the brim with water.
“Get in the bath, Mai.”
“Finally,” said Mai. Wanting some relief, she leapt head-first into the tub.
Suddenly, her teeth were chattering loudly inside her head.
“Th…this…w…water is…”
“Cold, isn’t it? The water’s always pumped fresh from tops of the Ko‘olau. Clean, pure, and – when brought in every morning at three o’ clock – just above freezing point.”
“Wh…wha…?”
“Oh! I almost forgot.” Kaulana took out a bag of dry ice imported from the summit of Mauna Kea and tore it open. The ice blocks tumbled out and crashed right into the tub.
Mai tried to scream, but shivered so violently that she could not even speak. Instead, she bottled up all her rage and frustration, hoping it would help melt the ice and bring the water up to a bearable temperature. But that did not happen.
“Okay, Mai. You can come out now.”
Mai stumbled out of the bathtub. She looked like a walking popsicle.
“That was the second step of your treatment. Now, for the final step.”
Kaulana directed Mai to another room. Her anger had helped defrost her.
“This better be good,” mumbled Mai, seething with rage and resentment.
“You won’t be disappointed,” said Kaulana, completely unaffected by his patient’s discomfort.
The room was dark and empty, or so it seemed. Kaulana immediately retreated and closed and locked the door.
“Hey!” shouted Mai. “What are you doing?”
“It’s Step Three of your treatment. Just turn on the light.”
Mai exploded.
“Crazy old man! First, you make me lie in a bed full of hot rocks. Then, you submerge me in a bathtub full of freezing water and giant ice blocks! And now you’re just going to leave me here?! This room stinks! I can’t even find a light!”
“Just feel around the wall for a switch.”
“You…” Mai managed to find the switch. The room illuminated a bright yellow. It was empty, save for an army of bumblebees swarming from all sides.
“The bees are very nice,” said Kaulana from the other side of the door. “I helped raise them when I was still working in the Wahiawa Sugar Plantation. They like people; though, they might sting you repeatedly if they like you too much.”
“You quack!” Mai screamed. The bees were upon her.
The sky turned a dark orange as the sun began to rise outside. Mai woke up lying on her side on a wool mattress. Kaulana stood beside her, smiling.
“You!” Mai screamed. “You’re a madman!”
Kaulana did not speak but remained smiling.
“You made me lie on my back on hot rocks! You nearly drowned me and froze me in sub-Arctic water! You’ve locked me in an empty room that smelled like cat food so I could be attacked by a bunch of bees! And now you’re here smiling?!”
Kaulana was still smiling.
“You know what? I’m leaving!” Mai sat up and began to gather her belongings. “I don’t need your useless needles and pins! You’re just sick!”
“Of course, you don’t,” said Kaulana.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve already administered them to you.”
“Huh?” Mai reached over her bare back. It was covered in thin needles.
“Your back looks normal again, too.” He shone a mirror to Mai. She looked at the reflection of her back. It was completely normal again. The needles had worked.
“Did you feel any pain?” Kaulana asked.
“N-No…”
“Good! It looks like you’ve been cured. You may go now.”
Mai stood up with her belongings and walked out the door, utterly confused at what had happened. The needles were still stuck to her back.
“She’ll come back,” said Kaulana proudly. “Those needles should stay on her for at least a fortnight.”
But Mai did not return, and no one had seen her since.
THE END
Note: I wrote this story under my real name a few years back; the same is true for the previous post with the poem, "Love Hurts and Sins".