The late Gordon Gibson was a legend. Like many successful entrepreneurs, Gordon had weathered perilous swings of fortune that took him from rags to riches several times.
Many said those harrowing experiences had also enriched a wicked sense of humor. Gordon’s seemingly dour visage camouflaged that sense of humor, known at times to rear up and bite the pompous and the unprepared.
One evening, Gordon told some friends a revealing story: how his family came to own, almost accidentally, a luxury resort on the island of Maui in Hawaii, and how it factored in a favorite exercise of his ‘gotcha’ sense of humor.
Years earlier, Gordon had purchased some ocean front property on Maui as a winter get-away for he and his family. Not surprising, their vacation home became popular with their extended family and friends, and in time also with their married children and grandchildren and of all their children’s friends. To accommodate the crowds, a few guest cottages were built. Then, more were built. Eventually, Gordon and his wife realized the whole thing was getting out of hand. Something had to be done.
One day, the couple decided the property should be turned into a resort. Why not make some money to offset the ballooning costs of their winter getaway? they reasoned. Plans were drawn up. They decided renovations should include a swimming pool. Two sons staying there at the time were recruited to help retrieve an old US Army surplus D-9 bulldozer Gordon had found abandoned in nearby underbrush. The three men spent weeks restoring the bulldozer and then used it to build a magnificent swimming pool in the shape of the island. And then in his typical entrepreneurial fashion, once they no longer needed the refurbished D-9 Gordon sold it to a local construction company for a tidy profit.
The resort flourished. As the years passed, Gordon and his wife began spending more and more time there, eventually retiring to their resort. By then the Gibson’s had become quite wealthy.
Few people knew Gordon was an avid gardener. In Maui, he could thoroughly enjoy his hobby. His favorite place was outside, often with garden hose in hand, watering the abundant flowerbeds. His usual mode of dress: shirtless, an old floppy straw hat covering his scraggly mane of silver/gray hair, stained shorts, and beat-up sandals.
One day, his gardening revere was interrupted by an expensive new sports car pulling up behind him. A horn beeped.
“Boy!” he heard a woman’s voice call out behind him.
“Boy!” the imperious voice repeated almost immediately. “Come here!”
Gordon turned. The driver was an expensively dressed matron in her late 50s. He could see from her manner that she was accustomed to issuing orders and being obeyed. Gordon, by then in his early seventies, pointed to himself, gesturing, ‘Me?’ The woman nodded impatiently, waving her hand for him to hurry over to where she was sitting in her flashy new white sports car.
Gordon turned off the garden hose and calmly walked over.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” the well-tanned six-foot resort owner asked politely.
“Yes, you certainly can!” she replied haughtily, by now even more impatient. “I’m a guest here, you know. You can earn yourself five bucks by washing my car.”
Gordon concealed his surprise and amusement.
“Of course, ma’am,” Gordon replied, keeping a straight face. A plan took shape in a mischievous corner of his brilliant mind.
The woman told him abruptly where and when to pick up her car. On his arrival, she gave him detailed instructions on how to clean the almost spotless car, and issued a strict warning to drive her newly purchased luxury vehicle with extreme caution.
The idea of washing her car appealed to Gordon’ delightful sense of humor, and to his fondness for the absurd. So, he washed it, personally. Gordon admitted later he did struggle with a temptation to stick the hose in the car, turn on the water and walk away. Instead, he returned her spotless car, being sure to collect the $5. He thanked the woman profusely for his reward.
Gordon enjoyed even more what came next.
Their resort had a tradition, as did many others, of regular luaus. They were a mix of Hawaiian tradition and resort hospitality, designed to encourage guests to mix and mingle. After a social hour, an MC on a raised platform called everyone together for the evening’s entertainment.
Seated in front of the stage in the first row was the owner of the sparkling clean sports car, now elegantly dressed in evening clothes and flashy jewelry. She had been thoroughly enjoying herself, flaunting her assumed charms during the social hour to men scattered through the large audience. A few announcements by the MC were followed by the introduction of their host.
Out of the shadows and onto the stage bounded Gordon Gibson. He strode over to microphone, placed not by accident directly in front of the self-important woman. Gordon looked down directly into her eyes, and smiled.
He confessed later the look on her face was priceless.
James Osborne is the author of the Amazon #1 bestseller THE ULTIMATE THREAT. His latest novel, SECRET SHEPHERD, is the second in his Maidstone Series and was named recently as Best Mystery Novel of 2018 in an international poll of readers and writers. The first in the series, THE MAIDSTONE CONSPIRACY, was also an award-winner, receiving the award for Best Contemporary Fiction Novel of 2017 in a readers’ survey based in London, UK.
Samples of his work can be found on his Amazon author’s page: www.amazon.com/author/jamesosborne. Osborne’s varied career includes investigative journalist, college teacher, corporate executive, business owner and army officer.
