The 'Ohana Tree

by Rebecca Addison

  “How does the rest of the song go?” she said.

  “I haven’t written it yet.”

  “Why aren’t you making your own music? You have one of the most beautiful voices I've ever heard. You have all of the equipment here, you have connections, I don't get it, Kai. Don't you want to?"

  I did want to. I had songs in my brain keeping me up at night, melodies and lyrics coming at me when I was out in the surf, in the shower, out on one of my night runs. Every few weeks I’d drive out to the studio for a weekend and record everything I could before filing it away and driving the same road back to Onakea again. I had hundreds of songs or bits of songs that no one would ever hear.

  “Of course, I want to,” I said. “But it’s not that simple.”

  She pulled me down into the seat next to hers. “Then explain it to me.”

  “I don't think you understand.” She waited for me to continue. “I can’t leave Hawaii. I have to take care of Akamu and my dad. And then there’s Onakea. I have to keep it going so there’s something left to pass on to my children one day.”

  She wheeled her chair closer so that our knees were interlocked. “There must be a way to do both.”

  “I wish there was. But there isn’t. The label needs me to tour or they can’t make any money. It is what it is.”

  “But Kai, someone else could take care of things while you were away, it wouldn’t be forever. Have you even asked?”

  I took a slow, measured breath and shook my head. “Just leave it, Tess. It can’t work.”

  I saw her choking on all of the words she wanted to throw at me. You only live once, seize the moment, you deserve it. I imagined what my life looked like to someone like her. She was tied to no one, she went wherever she wanted to go, following her curiosity like a roadmap. My stomach tightened. She probably thought I was weak.

  “I’m hungry,” she said at last, changing the subject. “Is there somewhere around here where we can eat?”

  We stared at each other for one heartbeat, two, and then I walked over to a laptop that was sitting on the desk. “I’m going to email you the track. I want you to listen to it, then call me and tell me what you think.” She told me her email address and I sent it off. “Have you got your phone on you? I’ll put my number in.”

  She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and passed it to me and I typed my number in.

  “Only here could we get to know each other this well without exchanging a single text message,” she said, taking a step toward me.

  I put my hands in my back pocket and met her eyes. “Tess, you have to understand. I do wish things were different sometimes."

  She touched my arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I do, too.”

  The small beachside restaurant I took her to was half way around the island, in the opposite direction from home. There were closer places, but I needed time to think. What did I know about Tessa, other than that she was some kind of grown up runaway? Warning bells were clanging in my head. I had resigned myself to my life on the island a long time ago. It wasn’t always what I had wanted, but I was prepared to make the sacrifices I needed to make so that Akamu was happy and the land remained in family hands. Any doubts I had about my choices were hidden deep under a blanket of responsibility and knowledge that I was doing the right thing by my family. And now this girl was interfering with that. She was lifting the corner of the blanket, letting in the light.

  I was having dangerous thoughts. Ever since that first time I saw her play her violin, I found myself imagining spending a whole week in my studio tinkering with my songs. I imagined waking up in the morning in a hotel room in a big, noisy city having nowhere to go and nothing to do for the day. And once I had those thoughts it was as if they had been waiting on the sidelines the whole time. Now that I had invited them to play, they bustled around, bumping any sense of contentment and peace I had out of the way. I felt more alive than I had in years. It was addictive; she was addictive. I wanted to be around her every second of the day. Tessa was all the parts of me I couldn't express. She was free, spontaneous, curious and independent. It made me happy. But it felt risky, too. I knew that I was in dangerous waters with Tess. There was a real chance that she was going to give me a glimpse of a magical, high definition version of my life, only to leave me to live out the one I had instead.

  We sat opposite each other at a table right on the edge of the deck, a yellow and white striped umbrella gently rocking above us in the breeze.

  “Do you know what you want?” I said, glancing over at her.

  She smiled at me in the way I already loved, the right side of her mouth slightly higher than the left and her eyes shooting sparks. “Steak and fries. And ice cream.”

  I looked at her with admiration and dropped my eyes back to the menu. “I thought you were going to say a salad.”

  The meals came and we ate slowly, moving our chairs so they faced the sea. We didn’t talk. I knew that she was lost in her thoughts and I was pretty sure she knew that I was, too. After we’d finished, we walked out to the truck and I helped her climb in.

  “Do you have to get back?” I bent down to lean through her open door.

  “No. I’m free all day.”

  Her face tilted up and her eyes searched my face. I knew she was expecting me to kiss her. And I wanted to kiss her. But more than that, I wanted to understand her. Plus, I was scared. I had never been afraid of kissing a woman before. Maybe because it never mattered before. It mattered with Tess.

  I shut the door and walked around to my side, climbing in and starting the engine. “One more stop."

  “I’m wide awake this time. Tell me a story as we drive.”

  I took the coastal road and she spent the trip staring at the sea, first huge waves, crashing on the shore, then rocks and shallow bays. I told her the story of Pele, goddess of the volcano and she listened in silence, smiling every now and again. After a while, I turned off and went inland then left the road and drove over the grass until we reached a clearing surrounded by trees. We drove between two of the biggest ones until we were encircled by wood and leaves. Tess opened her mouth to say something but I jumped out before she had a chance. I pulled down the tailgate and spread out the blanket I’d put in the back, doubling it over so that it wouldn’t be too hard to lie on. She came around the back of the truck and I held out a hand, pulling her up.

  “You thought I was telling you a secret when I sang that song,” I said.

  She lay down, propping herself up on her elbows. “Was I right?"

  I lay back next to her, my hands behind my head as I gazed up at the trees.

  She lay back next to me. “Everybody has secrets, Kai.”

  "Do you think that's true?"

  "I do."

  The wind moved through the trees, bending the branches above our heads that sent a shower of leaves through the air. I picked one out of her hair and then asked the question I really wanted an answer to. "When does a secret become a lie?"

  "When not telling it starts to hurt someone, I guess."

  "What if that person is you?"

  "Then you have to weigh up whether letting it go is worth your freedom."

  It was what I knew she would say. And what I had been waiting for. Permission.

  “Tess,” I whispered, “can you ask me about my mother?”

  She kept her eyes on the trees. “Tell me about your mom, Kai.”

  It had been seventeen years since I’d said the word ‘mother’ out loud about the woman who had been my mom. Now that I finally had the chance, I found I had nothing to say.

  “What did she look like?”

  I brought up an image of her in my mind - outside on the lanai, talking and sipping a cup of tea while Akamu did a puzzle on the floor. “A bit like you.”

  “Really?”

  “Her hair was blonde, but a bit darker, and she had pale skin that freckled instead of tanned. She was taller than you, and bigger boned, but she had light blue eyes just like yours.
”

  “I thought she was Hawaiian.”

  “No, she was from Chicago. She met my dad when she was traveling here with a couple of friends and they fell in love."

  “Wait, don't say anything else," she said, lying down and pressing her ear against my heart. “I want to hear the words before you say them.”

  It was a strange thing to say, but that was Tess. And her oddities always made perfect sense to me. I wrapped my arm around her back and she moved even closer, putting her leg over mine.

  “She was always singing and playing music. When Dad was on the other side of the plantation, she’d call us in from outside and feed us ice creams. She thought he worked us too hard.”

  “She sounds fun.”

  “She was. When Dad was around her, he was lighter somehow. He wasn’t so stern. And she understood me. She was the only one who did.”

  She put her hand on my arm and pressed the pads of her fingertips into my skin. “What do you mean?”

  “She knew I was shy, and she didn’t try to change me. I knew my dad found me frustrating. He hated that I stammered when I was nervous and that I was always looking at the ground. I think he was disappointed. I wasn’t the eldest son he was hoping for.”

  “What happened between him and your mom?”

  "He doesn't talk about it, but from what my aunts and grandmother have said, they were in love from the instant they met, and they loved, and fought, hard. He owned all of the land then and it was a successful business. He couldn't leave with her when it was time for her to go."

  "So she stayed," she said, swallowing.

  "Yes. But she should have left."

  "Why?'

  "Because she didn’t want to settle here. She was always waiting for my father to agree to leave the island. She couldn't see that he never would."

  She rolled off me and sat up. “What happened then?”

  "I happened," I said. "And then Akamu happened. After that, she was stuck."

  "Where is she?"

  I flinched, I couldn’t help it. Because even after all of those years the memory still stuck me like a pin.

  "She left. And she never came back."

  “And that’s the woman I remind you of,” she said, moving away. “Is that what you think of me?”

  I sat up and touched her arm. “No, Tess. You have to understand that we don’t talk about her, ever. I’ve forgotten things. Meeting you has brought some of the good stuff back. Like how funny she was, and the way she was always up for an adventure.”

  Her lips curved up but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “So no-one talks about your mom?”

  I shake my head. “Never.”

  “But what if you want to ask questions about her?”

  “I don’t. I can’t. Dad never speaks of it. I used to think it was because he was worried bringing it up would confuse Akamu.”

  “Would it?”

  “I don’t think so. Akamu remembers everything. He’s keeping his memories inside just like I am.”

  "So why, then?"

  "Because he can't. And if he could, the last person he’d want to talk to about it is me."

  “That’s sad,” she whispered, lifting her face to meet my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  I met her eyes and felt a sudden rush of connection. It was like meeting up with a childhood friend again after many years apart. There was deep familiarity, even in our strangeness.

  “Who are you?”

  She shook her head softly. "I'm Tessa."

  "I don't know anything about you."

  She pulled back and cocked her head to the side. "You know more than most people."

  I searched through what I knew about her so far. She was twenty-four. She had been a foster kid. She traveled. I shook my head. "That can't be true."

  "Are we trading secrets again?" she asked, meeting my eyes.

  Were we? Was that why I had just told her about my mother? So that she would tell me something in return? I didn't know. All I knew was that it felt good to talk about it, and I wanted her to feel that, too.

  She sat back, leaning on the side of the tray with her knees up, then stretched her leg out, nudging my foot with hers. "Kai."

  I picked up her bare foot, curling my fingers around her toes. "Yeah?"

  "Ask me about my mother."

  Chapter Fifteen

  "My mom was young when she had me," Tess said in a small voice. "My dad was older. I don't know much about them, other than that she was from a wealthy family and he was involved in drugs, and they ran away together. After I was born, we moved around a lot because they didn't want anyone to find them. He left when I was two or three. I don't remember him. I didn't go to school because we never stayed anywhere long enough, and my mom said that she would teach me everything I needed to know about life." She laughed sadly, before shaking her head. "She didn't know anything about anything."

  "How did you end up in foster care?"

  "I woke up on a Saturday morning and we were in this horrible, crappy trailer that was damp and smelled dirty. I walked out to ask if I could have some breakfast and my mom was sitting at the table, waiting for me. She was all bright and shiny like she was smiling too much or something. She passed me an envelope and said she had a surprise for me. I'd never had a surprise, so I was excited, and I remember hoping it was tickets to Disney on Ice because I'd seen a poster outside a drug store a few days before. But it was a bus ticket to somewhere I'd never heard of. She said that my grandmother had sent the ticket because she wanted me to go and stay with her, just for a holiday, and that she would be taking me to Disneyland, and bowling, and to get ice creams every night after dinner."

  She wrinkled her nose. "I was dumb to fall for that. But I was also only eight."

  "What happened?"

  "I got on the bus that afternoon. She wrote down the address of my grandmother's house and gave me $10 for a cab from the station. It was a long ride, over ten hours, and she didn't pack me any food. By the time we got there, I was so thirsty, and I felt like I was going to throw up. But I was excited to meet my grandmother. All I thought about was what flavor of ice cream I was going to choose after dinner. So I got in a cab and gave the man the address and the ten dollar note, and he told me that I didn't have enough money to get there. I must have looked pretty pathetic sitting there with my clothes in a plastic bag and my doll under my arm because he drove me to the house anyway. And when we got there…. well, to cut a long story short, a man answered the door and he'd never heard of me. My grandmother didn't live there. She'd just picked a random address from the phone book and sent me on my way."

  "Shit, Tess," I said, pulling her to me by her hands. But I couldn't speak after that, because what can you say? Instead, I just lay her down and fitted myself to the curve of her back. I held her while she told me the rest.

  "The cab driver saw what was happening and he dropped me at the police station. That's how I ended up in foster care. I had no ID and because my mom had never filed a birth certificate or enrolled me in school, they had trouble finding out who I was."

  "That's a horrible story," I said and she relaxed against me. "That's the worst thing I've ever heard."

  "I never heard from either of them again. I don't even know if they're alive or not. And I keep thinking that I'll run into one of them one day, on the street somewhere or in the supermarket and I won't even recognize them. I wonder if they're married to other people or if they have kids… and if they ever think about me."

  "So you've been on your own since you were eight?"

  "Mostly. I'd move in with a foster family but I was difficult and I kept running away so eventually they'd get sick of me and pass me on to someone else."

  "I'm so sorry that happened to you," I whispered, planting a kiss on her ear. She tensed and moved back against me. After a few minutes, she rolled over so that our faces were only inches apart. Her eyes were wet, glassy, but she wasn't letting herself cry.

  "You're so kind, Kai," she said, dr
opping her eyes to my mouth. "I don't think anyone has ever been this nice to me before."

  I thought about how sad that was. And how I was going to make sure she knew what kindness was by the time she had to leave.

  "My mother played the violin. It was the only thing she was good at. She taught me how to play. By the time she put me on that bus, I was already better than most adults. I know I'm good at it. But when I hear it," she said, closing her eyes, "it feels like a bad dream. All I can think of is her. And I don't want to think about her, Kai. So now you understand."

  I did understand. I knew all about trying to forget the past.

  "I've got to tell you something. I’m going away for work for a couple of weeks. It's a landscaping job on Lana'i at a hotel there."

  She rolled onto her side and tucked her hands under her head and I kept my eyes focused on one green leaf half way up the tree, the bottom of it curled and moving in the breeze.

  "I think I'm going to miss you," I said.

  “I know I'm going to you miss you." She put her hand on my chest, right above my heart. "Kai?"

  "Yeah?"

  "When are you going to kiss me?"

  I rolled onto my side and put my hand on the back of her head, threading my fingers through her hair. "If I kiss you, I know I won't want to stop."

  "So don't."

  "I can't. Not right before going away."

  She groaned next to me. “I wouldn't mind."

  "I would." I touched my thumb to her lip.

  "So we're waiting," she whispered, closing her eyes. "For two weeks."

  "Trust me, it's going to be a lot worse for me than it will be for you."

  She opened her eyes and they were darker than I’d ever seen them. "I'm not so sure about that."

  "Waiting will make it better."

  Her hand was on my ribs, running down my side, and then she lifted the bottom of my t-shirt and lightly touched my skin with her fingertips. "I have a feeling it would be pretty good right now."