Shaka

A Story by Max

Shaka is a wave of the hand with the thumb and little finger extended, the other fingers clenched closed. I think it may have originated in Hawaii. Generally it is always a good sign when used.

Shaka

By Steve McKean

Six month ago I found an old photo of myself boarding a plane in Honolulu. It was taken thirty years ago. I was bound for the African sub continent in my quest for Zulu gold, and to study the mating rituals of the Hottentots. Much younger, handsome, and far more dashing back then, I remember my one true love and hula dancer Lulu, photographing me that day at the airport with a heavy heart. I stood proud giving her a final Shaka wave as I boarded my Aloha flight into the unknown, into the heart of darkness to seek my fortunes.

That one simple Shaka wave to her was the sign that all things were good, that the restless Zulu and Hottentot natives would not likely boil me in a big iron kettle. That one simple Shaka wave in the photo spoke volumes. That one Shaka wave told her I would return to her; a wiser and richer man of the world, return to her arms with that special Hawaiian happiness we knew so well. It was the last time I saw her smile.

I stopped using the Shaka wave when Lulu ran off with a circus promoter. I lost my Zulu gold to a man who sold me an island that supposedly harvested bat guano to grow magic Cu'cu'a beans. Perhaps I was afflicted with some thirty-year palsy that inhibited my Shaka wave. I held back my Shaka for decades. I distrusted my neighbors most times, and gave far to many one finger waves. The rough and tumble of my life made me suspicious of people, young and old. I stopped looking for the new horizons that I now know always existed. I placed my Shaka wave in a box and locked it away. I stopped waving. I stopped smiling at my neighbors, and the big world all around me.

But a man can only lament and bemoan his past for so long.

In the past six months I have revitalized that old rusty Shaka wave, and now used it with great success on my edgy and nervous neighbors. They now smile and wave back to me like old friends from a long distant past. I no longer have apprehension or suspicions of them, nor them of me. I am discovering that a smile and a wave can disarm even the most calloused, and world-weary neighbor after a few weeks of constant Shaka.

In my carefree youth I had a ready and nimble wrist that freely waved that unique Hawaiian gesture along with a broad smile for my fellow islanders. I Shakaed back then with abandon; dual Shakas held high in happiness with both hands waving, lightening fast Shakas out car windows upon seeing a good friend, and my favorite, the Shaka wave down low and subtle, like a secret code sign between compatriots. I prospered tremendously by giving my uninhibited Shaka wave without hesitation in the halcyon Hawaiian days of the 1970's.

Now, I discovered to my utter amazement, that over the past six months of daily walking around the streets of my neighborhood as exercise, Shak-a-ing and smiling to every one I encounter, I have been rewarded with the true gold of life.

According to my doctor, I have in some way discovered a fountain of youth. I now have the vital life systems, and optimistic outlook of a very healthy twenty-year-old man! I told doc vehemently that it was my rediscovered Shaka wave, my newfound easy going smile, and renewed love of life. I told him it was my resurrected Shaka wave that accounted for my dramatic age reversal. He slowly looked me over with a skeptical eye, then said it was much more likely the daily three to four mile walks ...young man. Exercise and a sensible diet give one a healthy state of mind and body he insisted.

We argued and split hairs. He reluctantly capitulated, and suggested I wave my Shaka wave on my daily walks with small hand weights around my wrists in a constant state of Shak. He also suggested ankle weights to get closer to the fertile magical soil of Hawaii on my long daily walks. He dared me to start a vegetable garden, to plant my few remaining magic Cu'cu'a beans, to share my new found attitude, and the bounty of my experience with my newly discovered neighbors and the community.

He was right in so many ways. I now feel eighteen, Hawaii is beginning to look like the land I fell in love with back in 1972, and lo' and behold my health care cost are decreasing daily. Ah, to be young, healthy and happy again! And it was so easy! As to my recent reunion with Lulu, well that is a very happy story that remains to be told.

Shaka!