The 'Ohana Tree

by Rebecca Addison

  She opened the door and we walked into the house. Most of the furniture had been taken away by the local mission and what was left had been pushed against one wall. Cupboards hung open, the shelves empty inside. Joan and her daughters had already been through everything and had taken what they wanted. There wasn't much left except for a couple of boxes of books and a garbage bag full of towels to drop at the animal shelter.

  "I hate being here now," Tess said. "I can't even feel him in this house anymore."

  I walked behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist. "I know."

  She leaned back. "What did you want to show me?"

  I took her hand and led her down the hallway to the bedrooms at the back of the house. Her room was almost packed up, too. Her bag lay open on the bed, a stack of notebooks and papers in a messy pile to the side. We kept walking to Garrett's bedroom and Tess stopped in the doorway, shaking her head.

  "Come on," I said, walking inside. "It's okay."

  She followed me in. The bed had been dismantled and the mattress stood on its end against the wall. Garrett's drawers were gone and the wardrobe had been emptied of his clothes. A cardboard box sat on the floor in front of it and I dropped her hand so I could pick it up.

  "I found this when I was cleaning up the other day," I said. "He wanted you to have it."

  "What is it?" she whispered. Her eyes were wide, wary, and she crossed her arms over her chest.

  I reached into the box and moved the picture frames, the candles and the scraps of paper aside. "Here -"

  The notebook had a brown leather cover, worn and rough, and the size of it was no bigger than my hand.

  She looked at it like it might jump up and bite her. Then her face returned to mine. "Is that his diary?"

  I shook my head. "It's for you."

  I walked to her and pulled her arms away from her chest, then picked up her left hand, uncurling the fingers from where her nails cut into her palm. The notebook was big in her hand and dark against her skin. I closed her fingers over it and bent down to kiss her. "It says 'For Dipper' inside."

  She shook her head. "No. I don't want it. I want to get out of here." She slapped the book against my chest. "Take it!"

  But I kept my arms at my sides and looked into her eyes, shaking my head. "It's not mine."

  The book dropped to the floor with a soft thud and she took off, her footsteps loud and hollow in the empty house. I didn't chase her. I listened as the front door shut with a crash and then I picked up the book and slid it into my back pocket for safe keeping.

  Chapter Thirty Three

  I stayed at Onakea that night, and the next three weeks after that, hoping that Tess would come up for dinner like she had while I was away. Even if she didn't want to see me, I thought there was a chance she'd come for Akamu or my dad. She didn't. We waited for her the first few nights, setting a place for her at the table and keeping dinner warm in the oven. Akamu looked out the window every two minutes, hoping to see her car. But when she hadn't shown by the sixth night, he stopped checking and went back to setting the table for three.

  We knew she was staying in a cheap motel just out of town. She refused to sleep in Garrett's house after the funeral and now that she wasn't in my bed anymore I'd guessed correctly that she'd found the cheapest room in town. God knows how she planned on paying for it. A few days after I last saw her, I drove by to check on Garrett's house and a 'For Sale' sign was on the front lawn. Makai Surf was also closed until the lawyer settled his affairs and divided up whatever was left of his life between his daughters.

  I went to the motel every day, walking up the concrete steps and standing outside her room. When she wouldn't let me in I asked her nicely, then I begged her, and finally I yelled at her, telling her the only way I wasn't going to break down the door was if she called me morning and night to check in. She kept her end of the bargain, but her calls were short and her voice was cold. If I asked too many questions, she hung up.

  One day, I waited outside her door. She lasted four hours before opening it, glaring at me quiet and red-eyed at me on the floor.

  "Tess," I said, standing up. "Let me take care of you."

  She put her arm across the doorway to stop me from walking in and begged me to stop coming by. I saw part of the room behind her. Pizza boxes were strewn on the floor, a waste paper bin was upturned and a pile of bedding sat in a heap by the bathroom door.

  "Please go away, Kai," she whispered. "I'm leaving soon."

  But I knew she wasn't going anywhere. Until the money Garrett left her came through she was as stuck on the island as I was. As soon as I stepped away she closed the door, and I heard the safety lock click into place. I gave the Manager my card and told her to bill me for all of her expenses. Then, on my way home I organized for a local cafe to deliver a box of good food to her once a day.

  The TV was blaring when I walked up to the door a week later, a game show, something with a lot of applause and studio laughter that felt all wrong. I banged on the door with my fist until she switched it off but she only opened it up when I threatened to call the police.

  She seemed better. She was in a clean shirt and pair of cut off denim shorts and the bed was neatly made. I saw a line of boxes full of uneaten food on the luggage rack and a bag by the window. The only outward sign that anything was wrong was her beautiful long hair. It had been chopped roughly just about her shoulders, the ends ragged and a few stray pieces hanging down the back.

  "What are you doing, Kai?" she said, sitting down at the end of the bed with her hands hanging between her knees. "Why are you here?"

  I pulled the chair away from the desk and sat down opposite her.

  "I need to talk to you. I know you don't want me here. But will you promise to just listen to what I have to say?"

  She glanced up and only then did I see how much weight she'd lost. Her skin was tight across her cheekbones and her collarbone jutted out below her neck.

  "Oh, Tess."

  Her eyes filled with tears and she dropped her head. "There is not one single person on this planet who can tell you what I was like as a little girl. I have no one to share my history with, no one who understands where I've been."

  "I don't know what you're feeling," I said, slowly touching her hand. "But Tess, please, let me comfort you."

  She lifted her eyes and there was nothing there. She was empty, her face expressionless and her blue eyes like two round holes in her head. "There is nothing, nothing you can say that would comfort me," she muttered as she threw off my hand and stood up, walking past me to the windows.

  "You can't live in this room forever. Come home with me. I can take care of you."

  She turned around and leaned back on the glass. "That's you all over, isn't it Kai? Taking care of everyone, rescuing people. Well, this time, I'm not your problem to solve." She scratched at her arm under her t-shirt and glared at me.

  I met her eyes. "I'm not giving up on you. So just stop it."

  She sighed sadly and ran her hands through her hair. "But I'm leaving, Kai. I've told you a hundred times already. I'll call you to say goodbye, okay? Now can you leave me alone?"

  We stared at each other across the room for a couple of beats and then I reached into my back pocket. "I want you to read this before you leave the island."

  Her eyes went to the notebook on the bed. "Have you read it?"

  "No. He wrote it for you."

  She slid down the wall to the floor. "Well, I'm not going to read it."

  "Yes, you are. If I go will you read it now?”

  She nodded.

  "Okay. Call me when you're done. I'm going to be just down there, waiting in my truck." I walked to the door and opened my mouth to say goodbye.

  She sat cross-legged on the floor, her eyes fixed on the wall opposite her and her nails digging into her arms. "Bye," she whispered. "Can you put the Do Not Disturb sign on the door on your way out?"

  It was a perfectly normal thing to say, but there was somethin
g abnormal in the way she said it that made me stop. My hand was on the handle, the door slightly ajar. I ran my eyes over the room. Everything was sorted and tidied into piles. She'd made the bed perfectly and Tess liked the covers rumpled and soft before she climbed in at night. My eyes darted to the bathroom vanity, just visible from the door. She'd put her toothbrush, toothpaste and a few small bottles of shampoo into the bin. Her passport sat on the bedside table along with her social security card and a roll of notes, wound with a rubber band. A cold, dark feeling started in my gut and wormed its way up around my heart until it reached my throat. I slowly pushed the door closed.

  "Tess," I said, stepping back into the room. "I'm not leaving you."

  Her eyes went wild with panic, and it was then that I knew for sure.

  "I love you," I whispered, searching her face. She closed her eyes as tears slid down her cheeks. "Aloha au ia 'oe."

  "Don't."

  "I love you."

  I knelt in front of her and put my hands on her shoulders. She turned her face away. "I love you, Tessa. And I'm not leaving."

  "Go away!" she said, the words coming out as a sob. "Please, please, you have to go now. Please, Kai. Please go."

  I didn’t know what to do, I could only think of Lana'i and the Japanese bath, and the way my mother made me sit in a tub of hot water whenever I was sick. So I scooped her up and carried her into the bathroom, closing the lid on the toilet and sitting her down. She leaned her head back against the tiles and shut her eyes while I ran the water, her fingernails raking deep, angry lines up and down the skin of her legs.

  When I saw what she was doing, I hurried to push her hands away, pressing my palms to the gouges she'd made. My head rested on her shoulder, matching her breaths; in and out, in and out, trying to slow them down with each turn. When her hands were finally still at her sides, I took her clothes off and gently lowered her into the bath. The marks on her legs bloomed scarlet as she sunk into the hot water but she didn't even flinch. She had other marks that had been hidden by her clothing; scratches on her upper arms, a long, deep claw mark across the back of one shoulder and fine, straight cut marks across her stomach. I ran my eyes over her, taking in the sum of it, a desperately sad crosshatch of red and purple. She lay back with her hair about her head, her hands resting on the sides to keep her afloat. I suddenly remembered the way she'd looked floating just like that near the waterfall on the first day I'd met her and a groan escaped my lips. She opened her eyes briefly at the sound, then closed them again. I quickly checked the room for razors, hating myself for having to do it, and then stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind me. And then I slid to the floor and put a hand hard over my mouth. And I wept.

  "I want you to eat," I said, searching through the box of food. Tess lay on her side on the bed behind me, the sheets pulled up to her chin.

  "I'm not hungry."

  "I know. But you still need to eat something." I found a granola bar and held it up and she shook her head. "What about juice? I can get Lulu to drop one off. Mango and Pineapple - Akamu's favorite."

  She closed her eyes. "I just want to sleep."

  "You can, but first, I want you to eat."

  I managed to get three spoonfuls of cereal into her before she refused to eat any more. It was only six at night, but I pulled the curtains and watched her curl into an impossibly small ball, pulling the blankets up around her neck.

  "I'm so tired, but I can't sleep," she whispered. "My heart is racing."

  "I'm right here."

  "Every time I start to fall asleep, I remember, and then I feel like my heart is going to burst," she said, wiping at a tear that was rolling down her cheek with the back of her hand.

  I took off my jeans and t-shirt and got under the covers with her, moving closer and pulling her to my chest so that her ear lay just over my heart. "Close your eyes."

  She sighed, moving restlessly to get comfortable.

  "E ku'u aloha," I whispered, stroking her hair. "Eia au, eia 'oe."

  My love. Here I am, here you are.

  "But I don't know what you're saying," she said, trying to sit up.

  I placed a hand on her back, gently pushing her down so that she lay back against me. "It doesn't matter. Listen. Your heart understands."

  I ran my hand up and down her back, feeling her body surrender and slowly give in to rest. "Luʻuluʻu ihola hoʻi i ka hala ʻana o kou mea aloha," I spoke over her, each word like a prayer. The heart mourns the loss of your loved one.

  "A na ke aloha e hoʻōla mai i ka ʻeha a hoʻolana aʻe i ka manaʻo."

  May love and compassion heal the hurt and uplift the heart.

  She slept for a long time. Once I knew she wouldn't wake up, I gently rolled her onto her side and slipped out of bed. As I got dressed, I looked down at the darkened shape in the bed, her long, thin arm white against the blanket and her hand over her face. My fingers gripped my phone inside my pocket, feeling like I was going to cry again. For the first time in a long time, I didn't know what to do.

  "Pa?" I said into the phone, shutting the bathroom door behind me a quietly as I could. I leaned against it and closed my eyes. "Are you there?"

  "Kai?" he said. "I can't hear you."

  "I'm at the motel with Tessa. I have to be quiet, she's sleeping."

  "What's going on?"

  "D-d-d-da-da-da.” Fuck. “Dad."

  But I couldn't say any more. My words were caught in my throat and I knew that if I said one more thing to him I was going to break. I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead.

  "I'm coming, son,” he said. “Wait right there."

  I thought of him driving down the road from Onakea, through the main street of town and out onto the highway that would lead him to the motel. I remembered the last time he'd tried that, I must have been fourteen, and the way he only got to the end of the driveway before he stopped the truck and slumped against the steering wheel, his face pale and sweating, before throwing open the door and vomiting on the ground.

  "You can't, Pa."

  "I'm coming."

  The line went dead and I stared at the screen, wondering who to call that would make it to Onakea in time to stop him. But before I had a chance, a noise in the next room had me opening the door and flying around the corner in seconds.

  "Are you okay?"

  She was standing by the windows, having pulled the curtain aside a fraction so she could see the street. Her legs were like sticks under the long faded black t-shirt she wore and her hair, even now I hate to think of it - she had been cutting it with a pair of tiny scissors from the motel's sewing kit when I'd arrived and interrupted her. Long, golden strands of it spread out on the floor in front of the mirror. I walked around it, some of it sticking to my feet, and stood next to her with my hands in my pockets. "What did you do to your hair?"

  She touched the back of it, her forehead wrinkling in confusion. "I cut it."

  "Can I touch you?"

  She shrugged one shoulder. "If you want to."

  I touched her shoulder, the bones hard and slippery under a thin sheet of skin and she pulled the curtain back over the window. "I'm worried about you," I whispered, more to myself than to her. I didn't think she was listening, her face certainly made no indication that she'd heard. But she took a step sideways until she was tucked under my arm and leaned in. "Tess. What can I do?"

  She shook her head. "I have no one now. My history has been wiped. I don't exist."

  I waited, holding her against me, and then I said the thing I had gone there that morning to say.

  "In Hawaii," I explained, stroking her arm, "we don't have a family in the same way that you do. My family isn't my father and my brother. It's my ‘ohana."

  "What do you mean?" she whispered, glancing quickly at me.

  I placed my hands on either side of her face and lifted her chin so that she looked at me. If she forgot everything that happened that day, and part of me hoped she would, then I needed her
to remember this. "‘Ohana isn't just your blood, Tess. It's the family you choose for yourself.” I kissed her gently on the lips. "Family isn't just the people who made you; it's the people who love you."

  Her eyes welled up again and she blinked, her tears spilling over and running in between my fingers. I whispered to her in Hawaiian and her chest jerked with the effort of staying in control. "You are our ‘ohana now," I said, taking my hands away and kissing her tears, cool and salty on my lips. "And ku'u lei, we are yours."

  Chapter Thirty Four

  I woke up to the feeling of someone shaking my shoulder. For one fraction of a second, I was back in the house on Lana'i with Tessa sleeping beside me and the glass ceiling high above our heads. But then I felt the scratchy fabric of the bedcover under my hand and the smell of the motel's air freshener registered in my brain. I was awake in an instant.

  "Tess?" I said, sitting upright. "Are you okay?"

  I glanced at the clock and saw that it had been almost three hours since my dad said he was coming. I hoped he'd made it further than the end of the driveway before turning around this time, for his sake more than mine.

  "Lie down Kai," Tess said in a voice that was strange and flat. I lay back down and she climbed over me, lying down on her back by my side.

  "I've never asked you for anything," she said calmly. "But I'm asking now. I want you to let me go."

  I rolled onto my side and rested a hand lightly on her stomach. "You know you can't go anywhere right now, Tess. You need to get better first."

  She gave me a long, sideways stare and then slowly shook her head. "No, Kai. Let me go. I want you to kiss me, then stand up and walk to the door. Then I want you to get in your car and not come back until morning. Please."

  I swallowed the rock in my throat, my hands clenching into fists and my jaw suddenly tight. Because I was angry. I was furious. And it surprised me. I felt like punching a hole in the wall. I wanted to grab her by the shoulders, scream in her face, throw something across the room. I had never felt anything like it. In fact, keeping anger at bay had become almost effortless after so many years of practice. I was the calm one. The sensible one. The leader. The caretaker.