Free The Dark Inside (A Human Element) by Donna Galanti

was no place for a white wahine from the mainland to be hanging out after 10:00 p.m. North of Hotel Street in Chinatown, or NoHo as it was called, carried its distinction as the known spot for prostitute action any time of the week. He swallowed the last of his beer and laughed to himself. SoHo could be a better name for the so-many-ho's that could be had around here. He knew. At twenty-one and after three years stationed at Pearl Harbor in the Navy, he had sampled them all. Chinese, Korean, Hawaiian, Philippine, Tahitian. Anything exotic you wanted. If you liked big mamas you could hook up with fat Samoan women, lurking on street corners strutting their expansive goods.
    "Hey, let's get outta here and head downtown." Andy Novatoski clapped his big, tan hand on Ben's back. "Some of the other guys from base said they'd meet us down in Waikiki later. There's a new place on Kapiolani. It's supposed to be hopping. Lots of blonde babes from California seeking some sailor lovin'."
    "I don't know." Ben's head hurt from too many Hinano beers and he was thinking of switching to vodka to get good and drunk. It could relieve the dull pain throbbing at his temples, until tomorrow. Hud's Place was not a bar that handed out flowery, umbrella Mai Tais. Beer and straight booze only in this dive bar. It sat in Chinatown's red light district where you could get cheap, stiff drinks, and listen to some decent music. That is, if you could get past the prostitutes, drug dealers, and meth addicts begging for money. Tonight a hump-backed man, reminiscent of Johnny Cash, cranked away songs on the tiny stage. The place only had a maximum capacity of seventy-five and Ben liked that. It was a dirty, dark cubbyhole where he could hide. Sometimes Andy tagged along to humor him.
    "Come on, man." Andy persisted. "Enough of the ghetto Chinatown scene. Let's go where the clean action is. I don't want some old cougar winking her gray punani at me. I want me a young thang after some hot sailors!"
    "Big, blond, Viking sailors you mean." Ben grinned back. Andy was a magnet for all kinds of women, but he could score easy with the young girls on vacation from anywhere-USA. At 6'4" Andy stood larger than life with streaked, white-blond hair, ice-blue eyes, and chiseled features. He looked like some Norse god standing at the helm of his great ship, sailing into harbor from a long voyage at sea. Women shivered when they saw him, probably envisioning him throwing them over his shoulder to claim them for the night in a romping good time. All Andy needed was a cloak, horned helmet, and axe to complete the look. Unlike himself. Ben knew he appeared as a scowling, rebellious teenager mad at the world with his slouched posture, dark looks, and hands shoved in his pockets.
    "Nah, just a dumb Pollack they can have their way with." Andy shot back. "We'll find someone for you, I promise. I'll share. You can be my brooding sidekick Hank, from Texas. The chicks will think you've been hurt by love and want to heal your broken heart. Come on, let's go."
    Ben looked over at the dark-haired beauty at the other end of the bar, glad they had arrived early and gotten seats. She smiled at him and then looked away. He could see the top of her breasts pushing up through her white tank top as she leaned over the bar to get another beer. Her friend said something funny and the brunette flung her hair back. Her breasts poked out in enchanting round mounds as she arched her back and laughed. She looked so clean and white and American. Usually he came to Hud's to be left alone and drink himself into a slow stupor among hip music. He could always count on ending up in a back room on Hotel Street. There he could get quick relief for $50 followed by a dazed cab ride back to the base. In World War II a night here for sailors involved getting "screwed, stewed, and tattooed." But tonight he lusted for sweet sex with an all-American girl.
    "Nope," Ben decided. "I'm going to stay here and check things