by K. D. Keenan
Sierra looked at him. “These things are gods, Clancy. Avatars. Kanaloa is the god of the sea. Can you imagine something he could serve up that would take the jack ship down?”
Clancy was quiet for a moment. Then his eyes widened. “Yes. I can. You’re right. We have to stop them.”
Sierra was not so deeply perturbed that she missed the “we” in Clancy’s statement, and it filled her with warmth. She and Clancy spent the next several hours fretting over the delay in returning to Kaunakakai. They both wanted to consult with Auntie Keikilani about their next steps.
Roberts turned up late in the day. His normally sleek hair was sticking up in tufts. There were dark circles under his blue eyes, and his jaw was blue with five o’clock shadow. His clothes were rumpled, damp, and stained.
“Everybody okay here?” he inquired. When they nodded, he continued. “Sorry about all this. None of us have ever seen anything like this before. We’re still trying to figure out what happened. The base had been securely installed. Everything was pretty much ideal—until it wasn’t.” He sat heavily on one of the chairs.
“I can’t leave yet, but the pilot will take you back to Kaunakakai now. Again, my apologies.” He gave them a worn, warm smile, and Sierra again realized that Houghton Roberts was an attractive man. “Here’s my business card.” He handed a card to both Sierra and Clancy. “Maybe if I can get to the bottom of what’s happening here, I can bring you back and you can have a better experience.”
The flight back to Kaunakakai was as noisy as before and equally devoid of conversation. As they touched down at the helipad, the sun was beginning its slow descent to the west and Sierra realized she was hungry. She and Clancy had eaten many hours ago, but there had been no thought of eating aboard Jack of Diamonds.
They drove back to Auntie’s house and found Chaco preparing dinner. He was working on chalupas poblanas, one of his favorite dishes. Fred (who had been trained by Chaco) made tortillas with the concentration of a television chef de cuisine. Standing on a kitchen stool, he kneaded the masa flour and patted out little rounds with his green, six-fingered paws before frying them. He wore a small, frilly apron that would have looked entirely appropriate on a 1950s ad depicting the perfect housewife.
“How’d it go?” asked Keikilani as Sierra and Clancy entered the kitchen.
“Disaster!” Sierra replied, and told the whole story.
When she finished, there was a stunned silence in Auntie’s kitchen. Everyone stopped what they were doing, including Fred. As he gaped at Sierra, a small, uncooked tortilla slipped from his paws and landed with a small plop on the floor.
“Auntie, do you know of any way to stop Kauhuhu and Kanaloa?” asked Sierra.
Auntie shook her silver-threaded mop of curly hair. “No,” she said flatly. “You can go out there and ask them again, but I don’t know if it will work. We’ve set some very ancient powers in motion.”
“Yes, but I didn’t think they’d kill people. Or try to.” Sierra remembered the hunting tiger sharks in the water so recently vacated by the workers that fell from the base and shuddered.
Auntie gazed at her in amazement. “You haven’t read any of our mo‘olelo, our old stories, have you?” Sierra shook her head. “Sacrifice and death were always the dark side of the old ways,” Keikilani said. “We pay more attention now to aloha—love—and the path of light. But death and violence were more prevalent in ancient times. Kanaloa brings us fresh water, delicious fish, and waves for surfing, but he also brings sharks, hurricanes, floods, and tsunamis. Kauhuhu is a protector of this island, but he has always brought death to the enemies of Moloka‘i.”
“Yes, I understand. But will they stop if I ask them?”
“I don’t know.”
Sierra pulled at her long braid with nervous fingers. “I suppose I should go back in the water. I should plead with them to stop. Oh, jeez,” she groaned. The idea of confronting the Avatars again was bone-chilling. What if I ask for the wrong thing again? she wondered.
“Don’t do that,” Fred said quietly. All eyes turned to the mannegishi. He was sitting on the kitchen stool, his frilly apron spilling over the sides like a wedding dress. Flour dusted his paws and face.
“Why not?’ asked Sierra. She hoped desperately that Fred had a good reason.
“This has gotten too big and too serious. You haven’t got the mana to actively oppose these Avatars. Am I right, Auntie?”
Auntie Keikilani gazed at the little green creature seriously, then turned her eyes to Sierra. After a moment, she nodded. “Fred’s right, Sierra. Kauhuhu and Kanaloa are working together. If they oppose you, if they view you as an obstacle to the work they’ve started—well, dangerous doesn’t begin to describe it.”
“I can’t just sit here and let them kill people!” Sierra cried. “I’m responsible!”
“Actually,” Fred said, “It isn’t your responsibility.”
“How so? I asked them—asked them personally—to stop the WestWind Project.”
“And I heard Kama Pua‘a promise the Menehune that he would do something about it,” said Fred. “You heard him, too. Kama is a powerful Avatar, and you’re not. Let’s ask Kama to keep his promise.”
Chaco looked at Fred with respect. “Fred, once in a while you’re a real genius!”
At this unexpected and extremely rare compliment, Fred blushed a deeper shade of viridian and modestly returned to patting out tortillas.
“Well done, Fred!” said Clancy, obviously relieved that Sierra might not be required to confront Kanaloa and Kauhuhu directly. Sierra kissed Fred on the top of his smooth, green head, and the little creature flashed her a pleased orange glance.
“Now, how do we find Kama Pua‘a?” Clancy asked, turning to Auntie Keikilani.
“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her curls. “But I do know he makes his permanent home on Hawai‘i—that is, the Big Island. He lives on the windward side, the side that gets the rain. It’s very jungle-y. But I don’t know exactly where he lives on that side of the island, and it’s a lot of territory to cover.”
“I’ll make plane reservations for tomorrow,” said Clancy, rising.
“I don’t think it would be a good idea for you to go, Clancy,” said Auntie.
“Why not?”
“Kama Pua‘a knows Chaco and Sierra, but he doesn’t know you. They might be able to find him if he wants to be found, but if you’re with them, he may not reveal himself.”
Clancy said nothing, but his scowl told it all. Sierra put her hand on his shoulder.
“Auntie’s probably right, Clancy. I know you want to help, but Chaco and I will be fine. Auntie, can you teach me a chant? To call Kama? That might help.”
Auntie nodded. “Let’s learn it tomorrow, when we’re fresher. Also, we can plan how to search for him. I know the windward side of the Big Island fairly well—I worked there for a few years as a young woman, and I have relatives there.”
Sierra’s cell phone rang, making everyone jump. “Hello?” she said. “Really? Right now? Yes, we’ll come get you.”
Sierra turned to the little group in the kitchen. “You won’t believe this! Rose is at the Kaunakakai Airport. She says she, Mama, and Kaylee have a surprise for Chaco. I wonder what it could be?”
Chapter 22
Clancy and an extremely curious Chaco drove to the airport in Clancy’s rental car to pick up the new arrival. Rose was waiting on the sidewalk outside the tiny terminal building, wearing her usual outfit of T-shirt and jeans. Her thick, black hair was neatly braided, and she wore a heavy Navajo silver necklace with her casual garb. Clancy felt an unaccustomed surge of warmth and friendship as he greeted her and picked up her luggage.
“You have a surprise for me?” asked Chaco. He tried not to sound hopeful, but there was anticipation in his voice.
“All in good time,” said Rose with a sly smile. “Where we are going?”
“We want you to meet a local lady, Auntie Keikilani,” Clancy started, but Rose
interrupted him.
“Is that her first name? Auntie?”
“No, ‘Auntie’ or ‘Uncle’ are terms of respect,” Chaco explained. “You’re gonna like her. She’s a kahuna.”
“What’s a kahuna?” Rose inquired.
“Like you. A shaman. Someone who preserves the knowledge of the old ways. She knows all about me and Fred, and she knows a ton about Moloka‘ian lore.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting her!” Rose replied.
“Anyway, as I was saying,” Clancy broke in, “I’m taking you to Auntie’s house. Sierra and Fred are waiting for you there. By the way, where are you going to stay? Auntie’s house is kind of small, and so is Jack’s house, where we’re staying.”
“I reserved a hotel room.”
Clancy stared at her in surprise. “I tried to get a room, but no deal. I guess you’ve got influence here.”
“Just lucky. Timing is everything, you know,” said Rose, smiling at him.
Soon, they pulled up outside Auntie’s house. Rose picked a colorful bag from her luggage and emerged from the car. Keikilani burst from the front door, arms held wide.
“Aloha!” she cried, and kissed Rose on the cheek. “I don’t have leis to welcome you, but we do have dinner ready. Come in, come in.” She bustled back into the house, followed by her guests.
Sierra greeted Rose fondly and served her dinner. Fred and Chaco had made plenty of food, more than enough to feed an extra mouth. Rose tucked in eagerly, having experienced Chaco’s cooking skills before.
As the last of the chalupas disappeared, Rose sat back and regarded Chaco with a serene smile. “Sierra told us—me, Kaylee, and Mama—that you have a bit of a problem,” she said.
“Yeah, Rose. A big problem,” Chaco replied. “Can you help me?”
“We’ll see. Sierra said that as soon as you lost contact with your native earth, your Avatar powers completely disappeared. She also said you didn’t want to come home because you were afraid that even if you did, you might not get your powers back.”
“That’s not the only reason,” Chaco said defensively. “I also have a strong feeling that I’m supposed to stay here for now. I may not have my powers, but I still have intuition.”
“Right. Anyway, I was thinking about this, and I thought, why couldn’t we bring you some of your native earth? Maybe contact with it would restore your powers even though you’re far away.”
Chaco sat forward, quivering. He reminded Sierra of a dog that has just sighted a squirrel. “Where is it?”
“Me and Mama and Kaylee talked about it, and decided that just bringing a suitcase full of dirt probably wouldn’t work. You can’t live in a suitcase. So we put our heads together and came up with a way that you can be in contact with your land and still be able to walk around and do what you need to do.”
Rose opened the bag she had carried into the house and reached inside. She held up a vest-like garment made of tan canvas. It was quilted like the kind of vest that people wear to work outside in cold climates, but appeared far heavier. It was embroidered with Native American symbols and designs around the neck and down the front.
“We all worked on it,” Rose said proudly. “Mama designed the vest, Kaylee sewed and stuffed it, and I embroidered it.” She held it out to Chaco. “Try it on.”
Sierra turned her attention to Chaco. He had gone pale beneath his tanned skin. She noticed beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead. He made no move to take the vest.
“What if it doesn’t work?” he half whispered.
“Then you’re no worse off, are you?” Sierra said briskly. “Put it on, Chaco.”
Chaco took the vest from Rose. He laid it across his lap and looked at the lining. It was made of some sort of fine mesh.
“The idea is that the earth we sewed into the vest can escape a little at a time to be in contact with your skin,” explained Rose. “If it works, it won’t work forever. But it should last until you get home. You can’t wear it over your clothes, obviously, and I guess you’ll need to bathe a lot…”
Chaco shucked off his T-shirt, revealing a long, leanly muscled brown torso. He slid one arm into the vest, then another. He fastened the zipper in the front and sat back, tense and expectant.
Sierra watched Chaco’s face. At first, there seemed to be no change. Then she looked at his eyes. They were no longer a dull hazel, but a bright, feral yellow-amber: the eyes of a coyote. His skin seemed to glow with an inner light. Then he began to change, melting and twisting like warm wax. His legs and arms shrank, twisted and re-formed in a way that always made Sierra’s stomach lurch. His face lengthened and sprouted luxuriant fur. Soon, a coyote stood in front of them. Unlike most coyotes, however, this one was wearing a beautifully embroidered tan vest.
Auntie Keikilani knew intellectually what Chaco must be capable of as an Avatar, but she shrieked at this abrupt transformation, then apologized. Everyone else was used to seeing their handsome friend turn into an equally handsome coyote, and they were busy congratulating him on this happy turn of events.
Sierra was close to tears. She had never petted Chaco in coyote form because although he had deep, soft, and eminently pettable fur, he was also an ancient god, and petting an ancient god did not seem wise or respectful. But now she was on her knees beside him, face buried in his thick fur. “Oh, I’m so glad for you, Chaco! This is wonderful! Now you know you can go home, and you’ll be fine.”
Everyone else offered more verbal congratulations, including Auntie, who had recovered from her shock. Chaco morphed back into his delicious human form again. He was grinning from ear to ear—like a coyote, Sierra thought—and he hugged everyone. Even Clancy accepted Chaco’s happy embrace, clapping him on the back—then sneezing as a small cloud of dust erupted from the fabric of the vest.
“It’s not a perfect solution,” admitted Rose. And you’re going to have to be careful around water. If the earth is washed away, you’ll go back to being mortal, of course.”
“I’ll be careful,” promised Chaco, and kissed her cheek, his wild golden eyes dancing. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
A little research and a long talk with Auntie convinced Sierra and Chaco to spend a couple of days preparing for their journey to find Kama Pua‘a. Auntie felt that their best chance of finding him was somewhere around the Kohala Peninsula.
“Kohala is the wettest area of the Big Island,” she told them. “Kama and Pele have agreed that because fire and water will always quarrel, Kama Pua‘a stays on the windward side—the rainy side—and Pele stays on the dry side. Kohala is the wettest part of the island and it’s also about as far as Kama Pua‘a can get from Kilauwea, where Pele lives, without leaving the island.”
Auntie also told them they would be traveling in extremely rough country. “There’s a big nature preserve. You won’t find Kama by sticking to the maintained trails, but if the rangers catch you off-trail in the park, you’re going to be ticketed and escorted out. You’ll need to plan for every contingency and be able to survive for several days. You can’t carry enough water to avoid using the streams as a source, so we’ll need water treatments—for you. I assume now that Chaco has his mana back, he doesn’t get sick. We have very few harmful animals—maybe a few poisonous spiders or centipedes—but the terrain is hazardous. For heaven’s sake, don’t fall down a lava tube! Better take rope, and a first aid kit, and…”
She continued to list the necessities. Sierra longed for her camping gear at home, and she knew Auntie was right—she would have to prepare well. It was a bit different for Chaco. He could wear his bulky vest and morph into a four-legged, agile creature that could handle the rough terrain without difficulty. As an Avatar, he was also impervious to infection, injury, and all the other ills to which human beings are heir.
She knew she would be gone from Moloka‘i for a few days and felt guilty about the damage Kauhuhu and Kanaloa might be doing out at the WestWind Project during her absence. Sierra fished around in her jeans
pocket and pulled out Roberts’ business card.
Roberts answered his phone curtly, taking her aback slightly. “Um, hi, Huff,” she said warily. “It’s Sierra Carter.”
“Oh. Hi, Sierra.” His voice warmed perceptibly. “How are you?”
“I’m great, Huff. Thanks for taking us out to the ship the other day. Sorry about the accident.”
“Yeah. We’re still looking into it.”
“Has it happened again?”
“No. We aren’t doing any new work until we get to the bottom of it. I sent divers down there but they couldn’t see anything but the wreckage of the base. Strange. They had to be really cautious—we’ve seen a lot more sharks in the area than usual.” He broke off, heaving a deep sigh.
“Oh, sorry to hear that. So you’re not doing any more installations?”
“Nope. Listen, it’s great talking, but I gotta run. Are you still here in Moloka‘i? Maybe we could meet for dinner some night?”
“I’m on Moloka‘i right now, Huff, but I’m going to the Big Island for a few days. I’ll call you when I get back, okay?”
“Sure. That would be great. Take care.”
Her conscience soothed, Sierra went to work trying to find the necessities she and Chaco would need. Moloka‘i’s stores had limited selections, so she and Chaco took the ferry to Mau‘i and found much of what they required.
“I have some chants I want you to learn,” Auntie told them. “You will need to take a chicken, a fish, a banana, and ‘awa as offerings to him. Otherwise, he’s not likely to notice that you’re looking for him.” She went on to list all the things they needed to be aware of, and taught them a chant of offering and appeal to the Avatar. Sierra and Chaco listened dutifully and learned the chants by heart. Chaco thought he could appeal to Kama on an Avatar-to-Avatar basis, but Sierra wanted to make sure they also knew the traditional and respectful approach.
After three days of frenetic preparation, it was time to go. They said goodbye to Auntie, Fred, and Rose. Sierra said a private goodbye to Clancy, who kissed her warmly, but he was obviously still unhappy about not going on the expedition.