Author's notes, part 1:
I don't expect any reviews between chapters 3 and 4, because I uploaded them at about the same time. This is to make up for my Saturday vacation.
I do NOT own Yu-Gi-Oh!, any of the associated character/monsters (NOT counting the booster packs I received for Christmas. Thank you!), any cab companies, any hotels, any schools, any offramps/place names, any school children, any hospitals, or the 15,000 cars that make an appearance in this fic (including the white sports car, which belongs to my mom). As a matter of fact, the only thing I own is myself.
Onward.
--
Twenty minutes had passed since Raphael had called for a cab. Amelda hated waiting. He hated waiting in weather that was as miserable as the weather he thought he left behind.
The rain came down hard enough to leave a fine mist above the road. Thunder rolled in the distance. The wind made everything sickly cold.
A few moments later, a dinky cab showed up. The cab wasn't big enough to fit the three of them and their luggage (which consisted of three suitcases, three carry-on bags, and another bag filled with junk that Varon just HAD to get). Not that Amelda wanted to sit near any of his fellow Warriors. He'd rather walk to Waikiki, wherever that was.
After the bags were loaded in, there was just enough room for two people. Two skinny people.
Raphael talked with the cab driver for a bit before walking off into the rain. One idiot down.
Amelda walked over to the cab. Varon had already taken shotgun. Amelda rolled his eyes and squeezed into the back. Sometimes, height was a disadvantage.
The cab driver started the meter. A small exclamation of surprise escaped Varon. Amelda peered over the passenger seat, and saw the starting fare.
They were getting ripped off big time.
Fortunately, Dartz had left each of them enough money to purchase a small plot of land. Before Amelda could finish his thoughts, the cab lurched forward.
"Mayhap you should BUCKLE UP," Varon sneered from the front seat. Amelda resisted the urge to hit Varon over the head with his own shopping bag. Varon's hair would absorb the shock.
"That means you too, little man," the cab driver shot back. A click answered the cab driver. Amelda's lower body protested as he somehow got the seat belt across his waist.
The cab lurched to the left. Brake lights shone dimly through the rain-generated fog. In moments, the cab had stopped. When did Hawaii get so many cars?
Traffic moved about as fast as a drunken turtle. Amelda took the time to read the traffic signs. One of them advertised a hefty fine for not wearing a seat belt. Several others advertised the speed limit, which the cars on the road ignored. A few advertised the high occupancy vehicle lane, which was naturally occupied by cars with the minimum amount of people requried to be a high occupancy vehicle. Most of the signs were the names of the offramps. The names were in a language that was definitely not English. One of the signs held nothing but vowels. Amelda mentally whistled.
Of course, traffic in the opposite direction moved swiftly.
The cab suddenly stopped. Amelda felt his stomach turn. Piloting a helicopter didn't irritate his stomach half as much as bad driving.
The cab had stopped on a rise. Brake lights lit the road as far as the eye could see. On the other side of the freeway, headlights blinded anyone dumb enough to look. A muttered curse indicated that Varon was that stupid.
Traffic continued to crawl along. Amelda watched silently as a pickup truck cut into a gap that was obviously too small for it. Five minutes passed before the truck was integrated into the lane it had tried to cut in. A few cars down, a woman talked on her cell phone. A few more cars down, another woman tried to eat a candy bar of some sort. The cab driver made a decisive cut right. The left lane picked up speed.
"Well, if it isn't just our luck," Varon muttered. Amelda did his best to ignore the moron(s) in the front.
The cars up ahead suddenly started moving. Amelda blinked. On the right shoulder lane, two cars sat idly by, while their drivers talked. It was a minor fender bender. The drivers of Hawaii were going to pay dearly for this! The crawl through traffic had put a good amount on the taxi's meter.
The cab eventually got off of the freeway. Amelda couldn't pronounce the offramp's name. He silently hoped that Varon wouldn't attempt it.
"Pune, punehow?" Varon asked the cab driver.
"It's Punahou," the cab driver responded patiently.
"Interesting language, this Hawaiianese," Varon retorted.
"It's HAWAIIAN, you spiky-haired dimwit!" Amelda screamed. Varon giggled childishly. Amelda was certain that the cab driver was trying his best not to kick them out in front of the women's hospital.
The cab driver swore as a white sports car streaked through an intersection. The driver of that car was most likely an immigrant from California.
The cab driver swore again as a bunch of school kids ran in front of his car after crossing a particularly big intersection. The children looked like they were just starting their teenage years. Varon acted like that constantly, even if he was far beyond that age.
The traffic on the intersecting street was slightly better than the traffic on the freeway. Amelda's stomach turned uncomfortably every time the cab stopped suddenly, which was about every car length. Why did so many people have to populate the roads NOW? Stealing their souls would leave their cars on the road, and they'd never get to the hotel if the cars didn't MOVE.
The cause for the traffic wasn't too far away. Two streets intersected at an odd angle, and the cars on the intersecting street didn't always clear the intersection. Where were the police? Amelda took a closer look out of the window. One of the cars that blocked the intersection was clearly marked "Police". Amelda had his answer. He shook his head. When that officer stopped for a donut break. . .
Traffic lightened up a bit once the taxi made it past that intersection. Many people, most of Asian descent, walked along the streets. A few suicidal people of a racial background Amelda couldn't easily identify ran in front of the cab. The cab driver swore at the retreating pedestrians.
After a few more side streets, the cab eventually stopped in front of what appeared to be a hotel. The front of the hotel looked grand, like many of the other hotels they had passed. Before Amelda could finish his thoughts, Varon's irritating voice shattered them.
"The cab ride was HOW MUCH?!" Varon screamed, as the cab driver pointed to his meter. The shorterst Doom Warrior let loose a few choice words before coughing up the fare, as well as a bit of tip. Amelda briefly thought of taking the cab driver's soul, but it wouldn't be worth the effort.
Raphael dozed in front of the hotel. Varon kicked his shin. Raphael shook his head dazedly before focusing on the two people in front of him.
"How did you get here before us?!" Varon demanded. Amelda had heard a couple of people at the airport comment about the slow bus service. He was equally eager to know how Raphael had beaten them to the hotel.
"It was a calm trip. The bus nearly ran over a few cars, but I made it here in good time. How was your trip?" Raphael regarded the bags before taking his luggage, which was pure black.
"We got caught in traffic," Amelda stated simply. His stomach couldn't take much more speech. He limped over to his luggage, which was as gray as his eyes.
"It was just like home," Varon added, before grabbing his wildy-colored suitcase. He easily lifted it with one hand. He slung his equally loud duffel bag over the other shoulder, and held the shopping bag with his free hand.
The three of them had rooms to themselves. The trip from California to Waikiki had taken more out of Amelda than he cared to admit. As soon as he had dropped his luggage inside the door, he flopped on his bed, and--
--yelped, as a spider the size of his hand crawled off the pillow it had been resting on. He gave the spider an untimely death before falling asleep.
--
Author's notes, 1.5: I decided to stick the taxi in the worst traffic I could think of - the traffic going into town in the mornings.
The title "Karma" is based off a bumper sticker. . .involving the word "karma".
I'm sorry if this chapter dragged horribly. It's the nature of traffic, and the exaspertation you, the reader, probably feel is the feeling that most drivers share on their daily commutes to and from work (and the exasperation that Amelda felt throughtout the ride).
The traffic patterns run somewhat similar to what I described. The fender bender, and the HUGE backload of traffic, happens frequently. The strange sign that Amelda saw was for Aiea (which is in the OPPOSITE direction of Waikiki). Varon's mangled pronunciation was the best I could do with his accent. Sorry.
The hospital near the offramp does exist, as well as the school. I attended that school, and the kids there DO cross illegaly in the mornings.
Where are the Doom Warriors staying? I'm not going to say.
The bus system in Hawaii is much faster than most people give it credit for. Though Raphael was dressed in some pretty horrible threads, no one paid any attention, because a good chunk of the bus revenue is from tourists. The bus that Raphael took was one of two that run between the airport and Waikiki (and those buses can MOVE).
I'll get the next chapter out by tomorrow, I hope. The only question is. . .who's the narrator?