When Water Burns

by Lani Wendt Young

  “No. Why should I? It was a surprise. I thought he would be happy. Having my own place means we can hang out more. Do more stuff. Go more places together. I won’t have a curfew. And he can come over and umm …” I stalled. Simone’s knowing grin was making me feel flustered. “And we can study together.”

  “Uh huh. Study together. Sure.” Simone drawled. He made loud wet kissing noises and cried out, “Ooh Daniel, can I study you a bit more? Ooh baby!” and then skipped out of the way as I moved to slug him lightly on the arm.

  “No. That’s not what I meant.” I frowned and swatted at the ever-present mosquitoes that accompanied every Samoan night. “I don’t get why he’s upset.”

  Simone gave me an odd look and dropped the falsetto. “You really don’t get it, do you? For a smart girl, Leila, you can be so dumb sometimes. If he comes back, you two need to talk. Now, let’s go inside before the mosquitoes eat us alive.”

  Back in the house we busied ourselves with cleaning and unpacking but my thoughts were on Daniel and his strange mood. Where had he gone? Was he going to come back tonight?

  I didn’t have to wonder for very long. The green bomb roared into the driveway with tires screeching and skidded to an abrupt halt. Simone and I both stared out the window as Daniel got out of the truck, slammed the door, and quickly unloaded gear onto the front lawn. He moved with a controlled intensity and you could tell, even in the dim light, that he was angry. He ran an extension plug to the front verandah where there was an outdoor power outlet, set up spotlights, put on a welding helmet and then turned on a portable welding machine. The white sparks scattered all over the cement drive like fairy sparklers as he attacked the gate.

  “What is he doing?” asked Simone.

  There was a sinking feeling of dread in my chest. “I think he’s fixing our gate.” I bit my lip. “I think I know why he’s mad.”

  Simone gave me a knowing sideways glance. “Finally, the lights go on … I’m going to retire to the study, I mean, the Temple of Learning – and paint my nails. You better get your independent woman’s ass out there so you can help your man transform our house into a fortress. I hope you know how to make nice and fix this. Or else you’ll be joining me, singing that chorus with me …” He broke into song as he swaggered down the hallway. “All the single ladies! Put your hands up … woo ooh oh … I’m up in the club, we just broke up … All the single ladies!”

  Sometimes Simone could be so infuriating. I walked outside to where Daniel was working on the gates. The night was humid and wet. He had unzipped his overalls and pulled them down to loop around his waist so that he was shirtless in the moonlight, his torso gleaming with sweat. Sparks from the welder splattered against his skin and I flinched on his behalf, but he ignored them with intense concentration.

  I raised my voice over the burn of the welding flames. “Hey, can I help you with that?”

  He ignored me. Or he couldn’t hear me. I hoped for the latter. I tried again. Louder. “Daniel, let me help you.”

  This time, he shut off the welder and raised the visor of the helmet, revealing an impassive face. “What did you say?”

  “I said, can I help you do that?”

  His reply was curt. “No. The latch is done. It should lock now.” He swung the gates closed and tried the lock several times until he was assured that it was secure.

  “Thank you for fixing it. Do you want to come inside and have something cold to drink?”

  He shook his head. “No. I’m not done out here.”

  “Why? What are you going to do now?”

  He lifted a roll of barbed wire from the truck and carried it over to the back fence, then returned to move the spotlight so the ‘pathetic’ fence was revealed in all its inadequacies. He paused for a moment to wipe the sweat from his forehead and I had to force myself not to react to the sight of his chiseled, tattooed body in the moonlight. In low-lying overalls, steel-capped boots, and a welding helmet, his body drenched in sweat – even taut with anger, even radiating fury – Daniel was a magnificent sight.

  “I’m going to run several lines of barbed wire along the top of this fence.”

  I gaped at the fence, the roll of wire, and then back at him. Was he nuts? It was going to take a couple of hours at the very least to complete a job like that. I called out after him as he lugged a metal toolbox over to the fence line. “Wait up. Why do you have to do all that?”

  “I told you. This fence is too low and won’t deter anyone. It needs some barbed wire along the top of it. Even then, it’s still not going to be very impressive.” He spat the words out like it was my fault personally that the house had such a crappy fence.

  “But why now? Why tonight? It’s getting late and I know you have a full day of work tomorrow. Why can’t the fence wait? For another day? For the weekend?”

  He paused with a pair of wire cutters in his gloved hands. “Because you’ve moved into this house today. Because you’ve decided to live here alone, in a house with a faulty gate that won’t lock, a fence that’s too low, and windows with rusted screen wire that any intruder with a machete can cut their way through.”

  “Oh. I see.”

  “Do you?” and then it all came rushing out. “It’s not safe for you and Simone to live here by yourselves. Why didn’t you tell me that you were going to do this? You didn’t think that maybe as your boyfriend, I should get a heads up about this move? Ask for my opinion, discuss it with me, or something. Anything?”

  “I thought it would be a nice surprise. I don’t get it. Why is this such a big deal? I couldn’t keep living with Matile and Tuala forever. I’m old enough to be on my own, I’ve got the money to do it so I moved out and got my own place, so what?”

  “Leila, you don’t know Samoa like I do. It’s not safe for young women to live on their own. So few people do it that those who do become automatic targets. For thieves and worse. How am I going to sleep at night, knowing that you’re here on your own? And no, Simone doesn’t count. I grew up with him remember? He’s not going to be much use if some crazy fool breaks in with a machete.”

  From inside the house, Simone’s voice rang out indignantly. “Hey, I heard that! Stop using my name in vain, Daniel Tahi. Just because I wasn’t on the rugby team doesn’t mean that I can’t defend myself, eh. Aikae.” And then a more subdued tone. “Not that I was listening to your conversation or anything. No. Carry on, carry on. Just pretend like I’m not here.”

  Daniel rolled his eyes in Simone’s direction. “Whatever.” He took the welding helmet off and rifled through damp hair before appealing to me. “Leila, I wish that you had talked to me about this house idea before you acted on it. I’m not comfortable with you living here.”

  “But you know you don’t need to worry about me.” I pulled him with me away from the windows, away from our avid audience of one, dropping my voice to a whisper. “I’m a fire goddess, remember? Nobody can hurt me. I don’t need taking care of. All this? Fixing the lock and upgrading the gate? It’s thoughtful of you and I appreciate it, I really do. But I’m going to be fine. I don’t need fences and gates to keep me safe. I can sleep soundly at night without them.”

  His face tightened and he shrugged off my hand. “Maybe so. But I need to know you have them so I can sleep good at night. Just humor me and let me do this for my girlfriend, okay?”

  “Okay. On one condition. That you agree to let me help you.”

  He smiled but it was a shadow of his usual. “Sure. But since when did my opinion matter to you? It’s not like I could stop you from doing what you want, even if I wanted to.”

  That wasn’t the answer I was looking for, but I had to be happy with it. And that’s how I ended up spending the first night in my own house with my boyfriend – welding, and wielding a pair of wire cutters, upgrading a fence. It took us three hours. Yes, he was half naked and yes we got very sweaty but the only time my pulse spiked was when I disturbed a big black centipede in the wet grass and had to run shrieking from the s
inuous slithery crawl of it running up my leg. When I imagined thrilling, hot nights with Daniel in my own house? This wasn’t what I had in mind.

  Long after he had packed up his work gear and left, after I had showered and put antiseptic cream on the blisters and cuts on my hands, Simone emerged from his room to make us both glasses of ice Diet Coke with a slice of lime. We stood there by the window, sipping our drinks and studied the new and improved fence.

  “It’s very … shiny.” Simone offered. “And it looks very painful. Good work.”

  I only had energy to nod. But it was his next comment that had me, “A word of advice, Leila. Men like to be needed. They don’t like a strong woman who kicks ass all on her own. In future? Maybe you should try to show a little vulnerability. You know, so the Chunk Hunk will feel necessary in your life.” He did that breathy, Marilyn Monroe thing with his voice, “Oh baby, yes I neeeeed you …”

  “Daniel’s not like that. He doesn’t need a girl like that.”

  Simone gave me a wide-eyed look that conveyed more than I wanted to know. “Hmm, are you sure? Because that looks like twenty-five meters of barbed wire that says otherwise,” and then he sashayed off to bed.

  I looked out at the fence. Silver spiked lines screamed at me in the moonlight. I hoped that Simone was wrong.

  The countdown had begun for university to start and time was running away from me as I tried to get things done for the Center before school caught me up in its wave of assignments and lectures. I found an instructor willing to sign up for teaching duty three days a week. Her name was Dayna and she ran her own muay thai studio in town, but she loved the idea of working with women at the Center. I liked that she was a female instructor because it would help the residents to trust her. Mrs. Amani had allocated us a prefab building at the back of the Center that was normally used as a storage space. It was a little dreary with its bare panel board walls but it would do. She asked for volunteers to help me with cleaning and set-up, and four young women were sweeping and mopping already when I showed up with a Jeep full of fight gear. To my surprise, one of the volunteers was Teuila. She kept herself distant from the other three as we worked to unload the Jeep but the sullenness was at a minimum. There was something about this girl that drew me, but I didn’t know what. I had brought hammer and nails, rope and hooks so that we could hang the fight bags at strategic spots in the room and everyone got into the task of getting the bags up. I observed Teuila furtively when I thought she wasn’t watching.

  There was a restless edge about her. She was always moving, shifting lightly on her bare feet, fidgeting with her iPod, always looking over her shoulder, scouting her surroundings. Like she was waiting for something or someone to jump out at her at any moment. It was a cautiousness that would serve her well in the ring but probably was a nightmare to live with on a regular day.

  Mrs. Amani sent over a plate of sandwiches for lunch and we took a break. The other three girls sprawled out on the floor to eat, but Teuila took her food outside, heading for a grove of mango trees at the back of the Center. After a while I followed, walking into the cool shade and then stopped short when I couldn’t see her anywhere. Where was she?

  “Are you following me?” Her voice, sharp and abrupt, came at me from somewhere above. I looked up. Teuila was sitting on the crook of a broad branch staring down at me with unsmiling eyes. “What do you want?”

  Now that I’d found her, I wasn’t sure what I wanted. Nice one, Leila. Stalk the girl and then not even know why. “Are you going to join the self-defense classes?”

  A shrug. “Maybe. If they’re not stupid.” Her eyes narrowed. A sneer. “Are you going to teach them? You don’t look like you could fight anybody.”

  Okay. Her social graces were even worse than mine. “No, I’ve hired a muay thai specialist to take the class. I’m just the organizer.” And I don’t need to fight anybody, so there. I can fry them with a thought, so take that you little brat. “You should give the class a try. It could be useful for you.”

  “Why? Because my mother is a prostitute and I’m a charity case living in a refuge?”

  I winced. “No. Because everyone needs to feel safe, somewhere, sometimes. And learning how to defend yourself can give you that security.”

  “I already know how to take care of myself. I don’t need some crap karate class to feel safe.” She stood, light and lithe, and swung down out of the tree, landing with a soft thud in the grass beside me.

  “So why did you volunteer to help today then?”

  “Because I wanted to get out of school.” Her stare dared me to contradict her.

  I tried one more time. This was the new and improved, mature and responsible me. “I hope you try the muay thai anyway. It might be helpful. You never know.”

  “You’re staring at me with the same pity that everybody else does. I know you’ve read my file and so you think you know everything about me. Get this straight, I don’t need you to feel sorry for me. I don’t need any help. I take care of myself just fine.”

  I raised my hands up in supplication. “Hey, I’m not trying to get on your case here. But yes I’ve read your file and yes I do feel sorry about what happened to you and your mother.”

  Teuila interrupted me. “I’m not. She deserved it. I’m glad she’s in the hospital.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “Yes I do.”

  “Your mother is an innocent victim, just like you were. And she needs our support, just like you do.”

  It was the worst possible thing I could have said. But even so, I could never have predicted what happened next. Teuila stiffened and her whole body radiated outrage. “I. Am. Nothing. Like. My. Mother. She is weak. And. I. Am. Strong.” With each word, her voice climbed higher until she was shouting. And in fierce accompaniment there came a rushing, ripping sound. Like wind through the trees. Only it wasn’t. The air was still. So still. But all around us, tree branches whipped about, strained and heaved as if being pulled by some unseen force. Wood splintered and cracked. And then leaves were raining down upon us and we were standing in a maelstrom of green.

  As suddenly as it had begun, it was over. The ground was thick with foliage and Teuila was staring at me, aghast. Eyes wide. Fearful. She looked at the destruction around us and caught a muffled sob in her hands. And then she backed away from me and turned to run back to the Center.

  “Wait!” I ran after her, catching at her arm. “What was that? What did you do back there?”

  She shook her head. Whispered. “Nothing. Leave me alone.” She pulled free and darted away, and this time, I didn’t try to stop her. Instead, I went to find Mrs. Amani.

  She was knee-deep in paperwork in her office and looked slightly harried when I disturbed her. “Yes, Leila? Is everything alright with the set-up? Are the girls doing a good job over there?”

  “It’s fine. They’ve been very helpful. I wanted to ask a question about Teuila? The girl whose mother is in hospital?”

  “Yes?”

  “You mentioned that the man who did it – the mother’s boyfriend – he was hurt as well somehow? What happened?”

  “Oh him.” Mrs. Amani lip curled in distaste, “An obvious drug addict. I was there with Siela when they brought him into the emergency room, raving about the trees coming to life. It’s so sad to see the effect that drug abuse can have on someone.”

  “But his physical injuries? What were they?”

  “Minor. A broken wrist, scratches and bruises. Nothing like what he had done to Siela. No, he was in and out of the hospital within a few hours. Unfortunately.” She scoffed. “Trying to blame everything on trees coming to life. How pathetic.”

  “Yes. Very.” I left Mrs. Amani’s office puzzling over it all in my mind. Trees coming to life – it was impossible.

  Wasn’t it?

  It had been over a week since Simone and I had moved into our own place and Daniel still wasn’t happy about it. He had started carrying out a kind of reverse-stalker operation o
n me, driving past the house at odd times, texting me every time he saw a ‘suspicious’ loitering stranger on the street. Heads up. Man in red shorts and black shirt standing by your front fence. Lock doors. And, Who r those 2 guys in suits on yr verandah? I’m going to stop in and check. I texted back, Mormon missionaries. Dnt wori. They’re harmless. He still opted to drive in and glare at them from his truck as I gave them ice water and some of Matile’s pineapple pie. When they left, he came over to demand, “Why did you invite them in? You don’t know them. What if they had been serial killers?”

  “They weren’t. They were very nice young men from America. Besides, I didn’t invite them into the house, just onto the verandah. It’s a hot day, so I asked them to come in out of the sun and gave them some refreshments. That’s all.” I leaned over the railing to pull him close for a kiss. For a moment, he relented and everything was right again between us as we connected with slow, sweet, and perfect heat.

  I whispered, “You know I would love to have you come inside so I can feed you pineapple pie. Simone’s out visiting his parents. There’s nobody here but us.” A hopeful smile.

  Which he refused. Again. “No thanks. I have to get back to work.” A quick hug before he walked back to the truck.

  “Daniel, why won’t you ever come inside the house? Is it because you’re still mad at me about the fence thing?”

  He turned back with a raised quizzical eyebrow. “No.”

  I went to stand beside him, taking his hands in mine, trying to find the truth in the green depths of his eyes. “What is it then? Every time you stop by, you won’t even step foot in the door.”

  “It wouldn’t be right for me to go inside your house and for us to be alone in there without a chaperone.”

  “Are you kidding me?” One look at his face and I knew that he wasn’t. “What about Simone? He was here the other night when I invited you over to watch Game of Thrones with me but you wouldn’t come over.”