Tehani

I still remember the day I clapped eyes on Tehani. I looked up from my desk as she walked into the animation studio behind my boss. There’s my new best friend.

Both wise-cracking women with terrible taste in men, we clicked immediately. She was an actor too, and had been on Magnum, P.I. We schemed about how to get gigs in La-La Land (including changing our names to Spielberg and Lucas), and commiserated on the frequent rejections.

We snuck into air shows and onto film sets, and practiced our craft on each other. We started a club, Men are Scum & Women are Dumb. We remained friends after she stopped dating the (married!) boss, and I stopped managing the studio to sell roses and bouquets at chi-chi restaurants and Hollywood clubs. (The money was incredible, but the handsy men were a challenge.)

We both struggled with depression and low self-esteem (yeah! let’s be actors!). One day she showed up at my Grant Street apartment with her latest terrible married man, and could not stop weeping. I scowled at him—what the fuck?!—and was ready to kick his ass, but she said it was PMS. The hell you say. I still regret letting him slide.

We usually had day jobs: she managed a boutique hotel in the Marina del Rey, and I fell into a personal assistant gig for Nick Nolte (we shared the same psychiatrist).

Side note: I was a terrible personal assistant. I did not understand why Nick couldn’t make restaurant reservations himself, or why asking a fan for directions was a bad idea (he led us to his house).

I was on location in Sewickly PA for Lorenzo’s Oil when Tehani called me, suicidal. I talked her down. We did that for each other. But this time I was across the country, and scared. I was on Prozac my ownself, and the woman watching Bianca Kitty had recently told me she was missing. My punk rock kitty, my familiar, my beloved. I never found her.

After we hung up, I was angry. I did not know how to help Tehani! I did not know how to help myself! And where the hell is my cat?!

We hit another rocky patch when I asked her to deliver a restraining order to the terrible man I’d been living with. I was flummoxed by her ‘are you crazy?’ I really believed he wouldn’t hurt her, only me. Must be my fault he repeatedly slammed me against a wall, right?

Today I appreciate that ‘no.’ I was a boundary-less female, struggling in a predatory industry. She modeled self-protection, which—thank you!—is finally kicking in.

Years later, while living on Kaua’i, I found the courage to track her down. She had returned to Hawai’i! But no longer lived on the planet. Her nephew posted a photo of her all in white, calling her ‘an angel.’ She looked the same: straight black hair, compassionate brown eyes, and that gorgeous smile…

This week I asked another capitana on a swim date. I was so excited! But it fell through; she was busy. So many people are. I was disappointed, but of course I went swimming without her. I swim every day.

But I realized that I really do want someone to play with, and how rare it is when you find someone who gets you.

I dreamed about Tehani last night. My wise-cracking, talented best friend.

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Bookshelf:
Romy & Julio
Diary of a Reluctant Traveler
Sea Change: stories & splashes
Shoulds are for Saints: the true life adventures of Suzy Le Speed
Dance First …ask questions later: poems & paintings