That Time Michael and I Went to Hawaii for a Week (Two Weeks After We Met)
It was stupid to move so fast. Or was it?
For the audio version of this article, read by the author, go here.
In December 1991, I got dumped by the guy who I thought was the love of my life. Oh, that deep, sexy voice!
A month later, Michael asked me out, and the date went pretty well.
A week after that, in the middle of our second date, Michael said, “Hey, wanna go to Maui for a week? I know a way we can fly for free, and I have a cool place we can stay for free too. Some friends of a friend are housesitting — I guess it used to be Rock Hudson’s mansion.”
Michael, who’d never been in a long-term relationship before, was all in on the two of us from the very beginning. But by my mid-20s, I’d already been in three long-term-ish relationships in a row, and I wasn’t looking for anything serious.
Plus, I was secretly hoping that the guy who had just dumped me might eventually change his mind and want me back.
Even if I was looking for a relationship, it would be crazy to go away to Hawaii for a week with someone I’d just met.
Then again, who was I to pass up a free trip to Hawaii? Especially if we’d be staying in Rock Hudson’s former mansion.
So I said, “Sure, why not?”
In college, I’d had a close friend from Oahu, and I’d visited him on that island, but I’d never been to Maui before. When we landed, I was slightly disappointed — just like before — that no one greeted me with a Hawaiian lei.
Maui was also more arid than I expected, not lush and tropical. But I liked the island’s laid-back vibe.
Michael and I picked up our rental car and drove to Rock Hudson’s former mansion. Along the way, I saw signs everywhere for “shave ice,” and it reminded me of how I’d used to tease my Hawaiin friend. “It should be shaved ice — with a ‘d,’” I’d said, over and over again, driving him absolutely bonkers.
At the mansion, we met our housemates for the week: Matt and Jeff, another couple.
Except…were Michael and I a couple? We’d been on exactly two dates.
To my eyes, Matt and Jeff seemed really old. Which means they were probably in their late thirties.
The place was nice, with a pool and a great view of the ocean. But it was retro, dated even — and not as lavish as I’d expected.
“So this used to be Rock Hudson’s house?” I asked the guys, a bit dubious.
Hudson, handsome and strapping, had been one of the biggest movie stars in the world in the 1950s and early 60s, but he’s also been a closeted gay man. In 1985, at age 56, he died of AIDS, shocking the world but also putting a familiar face on the disease.
“Actually,” Matt said, “Rock Hudson and his partner bought this place for their best friends, another gay couple. They still live here — that’s who we’re housesitting for. Rock lived next door.”
I looked over at the neighboring place, which was palatial, and nodded. This tracked.
I was still a little confused as to why these two guys had invited us here in the first place. They didn’t even know us. But later, when I asked Michael about it, he said, “They’re friends of my roommate. It’s cool.”
After a couple of days of exploring Lahaina, and hanging out with Matt and Jeff around the pool, Michael and I decided to explore the rest of the island. When I said I was disappointed that Maui wasn’t more tropical, Matt said, “Oh, you have to drive to Hana! That’s on the ‘jungle’ side of Maui.”
“And you have to stop at the Seven Sacred Pools!” Jeff said. “But it isn’t marked very well, so we’ll give you directions.”
The Road to Hana was stunning — exactly what I needed. And pre-Instagram, the whole area was completely deserted.
Which meant I was alone with Michael, this guy I’d only just met.
With whom I’d taken a week-long trip to Hawaii.
But to my surprise, the conversation between us flowed as easily as the water between the Seven Sacred Pools, once we finally found the damn things.
After we’d hiked for a bit, I said, “It feels like there are more than just seven sacred pools here. It’s more like the Fifteen Sacred Pools.”
“First,” Michael said, “that doesn’t sound nearly as good as ‘Seven Sacred Pools.’ Second, who’s to say all these pools are sacred? Maybe it’s the Seven Sacred Pools — and Eight Non-Sacred Pools.”
I laughed. This Michael-guy was pretty funny. Handsome too.
But what about Mr. Deep, Sexy Voice — my ex? What if he wanted me back?
“Let’s swim,” I said, and we worked our way down to the final of the Seven — or Fifteen — Sacred Pools, the one right before the ocean.
A waterfall splashed into a large pool that practically screamed: Photograph me! Turn me into a postcard! And we were still the only people around, so we didn’t need suits.
We headed to the beach, just over some rocks from the last of the However-Many Sacred Pools.
But there were signs all along the beach: Warning: Sharks! Do not swim.
That beautiful pool was only a few meters from an ocean teeming with sharks?
Typical! I thought, being my overly dramatic mid-20s self.
Michael turned back to the pool, eyeing the edge of a cliff at the top.
“Let’s jump!” he said.
“Really?” I said, but he led me up to that cliff.
From there, the water in the pool below looked black. What if there were rocks just under the surface?
Besides, I wasn’t really one for cutting loose.
“But…” I started to say.
“It’s fine,” Michael said, and he jumped.
It was true that if there were rocks just under the surface of this pool, you’d think there’d be a sign. After all, the sharks had been clearly marked.
Plus, Michael was already down, and he hadn’t bashed his head open.
So I made that blind leap too.
And I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so free.
That night over cocktails, we thanked Matt and Jeff for their directions to the Inaccurately Counted Sacred Pools and told them all about our day, including our leap from that cliff.
And Jeff said, “You guys wanna make another big leap?”
“How’s that?” I said.
“Well, there’s one part of the house you guys still haven’t seen. Our…bedroom?”
Did this mean what I thought it meant?
Matt and Jeff both smiled at us. Yup, it meant what I thought it meant. And this tracked too.
So much for “free” lodging!
I also thought: If we were staying with Rock Hudson and his partner, and we were “friendly” with them, we might just get a whole mansion out of it!
But there was no Maui mansion on the table here, so Michael and I politely declined Matt and Jeff’s offer. The guys were extremely cool about it. That wasn’t the only reason they’d invited us to stay with them.
Later, alone in our bedroom, Michael and I laughed and laughed.
“Do straight couples have to deal with shit like this?” I asked.
“I doubt it,” Michael said. “On the other hand, I guess it’s a compliment.”
I laughed again. I loved how he took everything in stride. He wasn’t high-maintenance.
Which, frankly, Mr. Deep, Sexy Voice kinda was.
Huh, I thought. I wonder if WhatsHisName wasn’t the love of my life? What if it’s this Michael guy?
In writing this article, I looked up the Seven Sacred Pools on the Road to Hana on Maui, and I learned that, yes, there are more than seven pools — at least at certain times of the year.
I also learned that there are now signs everywhere warning people not to jump off the cliffs into the pools — because of hidden rocks just below the surface.
Now they tell me.
On the other hand, I haven’t thought of Mr. Deep, Sexy Voice in ages, and I’m still with Michael after thirty-plus years.
That whole trip to Hawaii after only two weeks was a completely blind leap. But it’s one I’m really glad I made.
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Brent Hartinger is a screenwriter and author. Check out my new newsletter about my books and movies at BrentHartinger.com.
What a fun story. You should keep in touch with that Michael guy I reckon. Seems like a good egg.
You two were (and are) adorable. Michael must have utterly charmed you to have got you to make that leap.