The Girl at the Center of the World

by Austin Aslan

  Buzz cautiously approaches the body, stares blankly. Buzz’s neck and throat are heavily bruised. He’s favoring his left arm. For a second I think he’s going to kick the sheriff ’s head, but he clenches a fist and screams.

  “Who—” Dad asks. Everyone looks at me. I look at my feet.

  Mom pulls Kai over to the lanai. They sit down, hold each other tightly as Mom rocks back and forth, doing her best to hold it together. Kai’s eyes are somber, soaking in every detail.

  I step forward to Buzz. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

  I reach out to hug him, but he winces. “Careful. Broken wrist.” Then he pulls me into his embrace with his good arm. “Good job getting away up there. Good job. Good job.” We’re sobbing.

  Dad shakes himself out of a trance. “That’s all of them.” He counts on his hand. “That Herbert is dead. The two in the other truck, the ones that took Mom and Keali`i. I didn’t see any others.”

  I wipe my face. “There were…more,” I say.

  “Kana`ina left them on Mauna Loa,” he says. “The road was too rough for a flat tire. Buzz and I were in the cages. He was hell-bent on getting here at light speed. It was only him and Herbert in the cab. He wasn’t thinking straight.”

  “How’d you get out? How’d you find Mom and Keali`i?”

  “They met on the road. Mom’s captors were heading for Puna. Kana`ina told them to show him the way to our place. He was going to use the dogs to track down Kai. Execute Keali`i right here for show. Raced the whole way. I thought we were going to flip. They pulled up the driveway, and Aukina shot the driver dead, right in the neck. Killed the other guy with a second shot. The sheriff was blocked. He abandoned the truck. Fired at Aukina and was gone into the jungle.”

  “I got them out of the cages,” Aukina adds. “I couldn’t leave them. I had no idea that was the sheriff, that he would run straight up to the house.”

  “My family?” Paul rubs at his bruised wrists. “Are they safe?”

  “Yes.” Aukina helps him stand. “We sent them to the waterfall. Safest up there if anyone came back to the house.”

  “Good,” he says.

  “What do we do with the body?” Buzz stares at the sheriff. “We need to…display it.”

  “What?” I say.

  “People should know he’s gone.”

  “Let me take him down to Papaikou,” Keali`i says. His eyes dart to me, flick back to Dad. “I’ll hand him over to the Manō. They’ll be happy to spread the word.”

  “And watch those guys waltz into power?” Dad says. “No, thanks.”

  “No, they won’t. I’ll make sure of it.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “I’m Manō,” Keali`i says. He looks between Dad, Mom, and me.

  Everyone peers at him, even Uncle Hank and Paul.

  “Why do you think they’ve never bothered you?” Keali`i straightens, raises his chin. “Why do you think you always come and go, but no one else gets through? Why do you think it took the sheriff ’s men so long to get up here, even though they knew the area where you lived?”

  “Keali`i—” Dad begins.

  “Your tūtū knew,” he says, eyes boring into me, then back to Mom, Dad. “I had to tell him when we ditched Two Dog. He knew. I asked him to stay quiet, but he knew.”

  Grandpa knew about this? My breathing quickens. It wasn’t his only secret, I think. Kana`ina’s cryptic exchange with him just before…I’ll never know what that was about now. I push it all away.

  “You looked out for me. I looked out for you,” Keali`i says.

  We’re all silent.

  “Come on,” he urges. “Get going. They should know to be on alert. Half those Manō boys were off surfing, or this never would’ve happened. We still have time to get them back up this way. Let’s move!”

  He’s right, I think. We’re not done here yet. There’s much more to do. God.

  No. Not God. Just me. See me yet?

  Him. I grit my teeth. Not. Now. But I suddenly clasp my mouth shut.

  “Haven’t you seen me yet?” he had asked me when I was at the Irvings’.

  “Oh, no,” I say aloud. Everyone watches me. I shake my head.

  “Lei, sit down,” Mom says, rising from the steps. “What is it?”

  I close my eyes. You’re in the battleship.

  In the darkness of space above the world, I feel him grinning.

  Coming for you, since that’s the way it has to be. Remember?

  The battleship. He’s in the battleship.

  Aukina had noticed: “There’re strange dishes all over the upper control top.”

  My hand shakes uncontrollably. I lower it, grip Aukina’s elbow. He’s here. He’s literally docking in Hilo right now. Coming for me. He does have his own array.

  He has a battleship.

  CHAPTER 22

  Uncle Hank drives Paul home. They’ll fetch Sara and the baby at the waterfall, and then Hank will check on Auntie Nora. Once they’ve departed, I tell everyone what I know as quickly as my voice will allow. Kai hears all of it. I don’t care; discretion is the last thing on my mind. Aukina fills in the gaps, explaining that the battleship may not be American. Dad and Buzz nod along; they saw the ship on the way here.

  “Is it the one you’ve been following for the past few days?” Dad asks.

  I nod.

  “Well, what do we do?” he continues.

  “We can’t let him step on the island,” I say. “What if he gets up to Mauna Kea with a band of soldiers? Takes control of the array? He could use it to try and muscle me out.”

  For a moment only the mynas flitting from tree to tree make any sound.

  “She’s right,” Buzz answers. “We can’t let them dock.”

  “I just thought of a joke,” Keali`i says. “Where does a battleship park?”

  “Keali`i—” Dad protests.

  “Wherever the hell it wants to, that’s where.”

  “Not. Funny,” Tami says.

  “Well, how are we supposed to stop a battleship?” He laughs.

  “Just…be quiet, all of you,” I say.

  They fall silent, and I close my eyes. Who are you? I ask loudly.

  I’m the plucky hero. I like to pluck flowers bare.

  Stop it. What’s your name?

  You never told me your name. Why should I tell you mine?

  I’m Rose, I lie.

  Ah, very good. I can’t wait to see you in person, Rose. It will be a pleasure to meet the Flower of Heaven. My name is Commander Dwight Towers.

  “Commander Dwight Towers,” I tell Aukina. “Do you know that name?”

  He searches, shakes his head. “No idea. Sounds…British? I don’t know.”

  “I know that name,” Dad says.

  “Huh?” several of us reply in unison.

  “Yeah,” says Dad. “I recognize it…from somewhere. Can’t quite place it.”

  What country are you with? Are you British?

  British! I sense amusement. I’m not British. No. What does it matter? I’m a citizen of the world. An emissary of all nations. I’m going to win the whole globe back today, Ms. Rose. Pluck it right out of your hands.

  You can’t dock here. I won’t let you.

  Oh, yeah? You and whose army?

  “Where’s Tūtū?” Kai asks.

  I’m whiplashed back, my legs turning to seaweed. Horrified, I look to Mom. Mom takes her seat next to him on the lanai steps. Dad opens his mouth, but no words come. His eyes well with tears. Kai yells, “WHERE’S TŪTŪ? TELL ME!”

  I kneel in front of him, take his hands. “He’s gone.” Two words. I’ve said them aloud. Somehow it’s more real than ever. I bury my face in Kai’s chest, put my arms around him.

  “No. No way,” he pleads. Mom sobs. I wipe away tears and look at him. He’s crumpled against Mom. Her face is burrowed into his hair.

  “Can I see him?” he asks. “Where is he?”

  A lead ball of dread tugs at my stomach. “Still up ther
e.”

  “You can’t leave him up there!”

  “We won’t. Not a chance,” Dad says.

  “Oh, Kai, Kai. I’m so sorry.” I quiver. “Mom.” Kai finds my hand and squeezes it. He leans his head against my chest, and I feel my grandmother’s pendant dig into my sternum. His sobs shake us. “Tūtū was protecting us.”

  They’re together now. My `aumākua. My guardians. They will make sure we get through this. They will always be with me.

  I weep.

  “It’s okay, sis,” Kai attempts. I lean back, study him. So brave. I see his fear. The red around his eyes. I see that he has been deeply scarred today. He saw his mother kidnapped, and he was forced to run. His tūtū is…But he’s being so brave. For me. I kiss his forehead and hold him tight.

  Listen, I don’t want to dock in this dump any more than you want me to. It’s easy: release the aliens and maybe I’ll go away and leave you alone.

  SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. I can’t keep it in my mind. I scream it out, tearing my throat again: “JUST SHUT UP!”

  “Lei,” Mom says.

  Very well, then. Have it your way.

  “Not you. I’m sorry, Mom. Not you. Admiral Asshole. He won’t stay out of my head.”

  I hear Keali`i punch a fist into his other hand. “Fellas, come on! Let’s go!”

  “Go where?” Dad asks, clearly exasperated.

  “First the body. I know just who to give it to. Then…” He trails off.

  “Then you fire another pearl right up that ship’s `ōkole, that’s what,” Kai says.

  “Shh!” Mom squeezes Kai.

  Everyone looks to me. I try to consider the idea. Send another pearl at the ship? Blow it to kingdom come? It sounds terrible. How many people are on the ship? But the idea is untenable for a dozen other reasons. Tsunami, first. I struggle to explain. “The baby Orchid fired the pearl that opened the vent today. She’s empty now. Spent.”

  “The mother?” Buzz asks.

  I don’t know. “If she can produce a pearl,” I say, “I’m hardly an accurate shot. I could easily miss and pulverize Hilo. And even if I hit it spot on? Tsunami? Shockwave?”

  “But Commander Towers doesn’t know any of that,” Aukina says. “Right? I’m sure he saw what you just did up on Mauna Loa. I’m sure he can see it erupting. Can you bluff him, Lei?”

  “Bluff him.”

  “Wait. Mauna Loa’s erupting?” asks Tami. “We saw the strike happen, but no eruption.”

  “She got walloped. She’s pissed, venting,” Dad says.

  “Tūtū’s up there!” Kai exclaims.

  Buzz reassures him. “The eruption is south and downslope of where Lani is. His body’ll be safe.”

  “Is Hilo in danger?” asks Aukina.

  “I don’t think so,” I say.

  “That’s not good enough,” he shoots back. Of course: his family. Just south of town, almost at sea level.

  “Come on. Let’s move!” Keali`i is backing toward the Hummer. “I’m leaving. Get in if you’re coming.”

  Dad and Buzz pick up the sheriff ’s body. Mom hurries Kai inside. I look away, queasy. Humans aren’t supposed to bend and flop the way Kana`ina does. He was pure evil ten minutes ago. All muscle and intent. Lethal. Now: gone.

  Keali`i opens the back of the Humvee, and they work together to stuff the body into the trunk like a prize marlin.

  I lean over the mossy paving stones and dry-heave.

  * * *

  We travel down the hill in a caravan of battered vehicles and stop in Papaikou. In addition to the sheriff, Keali`i transfers custody of the bodies of the three other Hanamen over to the Manō. Herbert was one of them—the one Aukina killed to free Dad.

  I’m in the back of the king cab of the Hanaman truck that Aukina shot up. The truck with the dogs and the cages still has a nice windshield, but the cab wasn’t big enough to fit everyone. Dad, Buzz, Aukina, and Keali`i pile into our new ride, and we start into town. Aukina sits in the back with me and holds my hand. He talks, formulating a plan with the others. I don’t hear most of it. His voice calms me. The words don’t matter.

  I cling tightly to my memory of embracing Mom just before we left the house. We cried together. She gently thumbed my pendant, which was wet with tears. We helped each other to breathe in, breathe out.

  “I found your book on the workbench,” she said, handing me her gift. I took it back with a shaky hand. “The flower was bookmarking one of my favorite myths. Did you know?”

  I shook my head.

  “The tree with the lying branches. The soul, when it’s ready to leap to the next world, comes upon a tree, half-green and half-dead. But the green branches are wily, decaying. The soul that tries to climb that side will fall into Po. But your tūtū knows to climb the dry branches, Lei. He has his `aumākua there to guide him. Grandma Lili`u will show him the way to the `aumākua world. He has climbed and leapt, and now he’s free.”

  “Yes,” I muttered softly. “Like a cat, into the clouds.”

  * * *

  Tami wanted to come with us, but Mom made her stay behind. She was knocked out cold, after all. Keali`i rushed away, made her a cool compress out of a washcloth, and wrapped it around her golf ball–sized welt. He pumped her full of anti-inflammatories, then he kissed her. “I have to go,” he tells her. “But I’ll be right back for you. You mean the world to me. If anything had happened…”

  Just say it! I wanted to shout at him. Tell her you love her.

  But he didn’t say any more.

  I would have preferred to stay at the house with Tami and Kai and Mom, but I need to see the ship, learn everything I can if I’m going to have a prayer of bluffing this guy. Now, in the truck, I force my attention back to the present.

  “Oh, mama!” Keali`i marvels as we cross over the singing bridge and onto the bay front. The battleship is in the bay, aiming toward the dock over by the refineries, where the cruise ships used to come to port. The volcano rages on the high slopes of Mauna Loa, turning a swath of landscape below it a tarry black and the sky above sooty and dark. Aukina estimates that the ship is about fifteen minutes from docking. Buzz and Dad both agree that Hilo looks safe from the path of the lava, but there’s no way to know for sure.

  I won’t let you dock, I tell Commander Dwight Towers. Don’t make me stop you.

  He doesn’t answer, hasn’t spoken to me since the house. Dad has been telling me not to worry. “Captain Kangaroo probably took his wiring off to council with his crew.”

  “His connection isn’t like yours,” Buzz reminds me from the middle of the front seat. “If he stepped away from his radio tower, you may miss each other. Just keep trying.”

  The bay-front road is unusually busy with traffic. Cars stream by us, heading in the opposite direction, away from town. People are darting to and fro along the parking lots and streets, pointing in all directions, shouting. We inch through traffic, bully forward when we can.

  This is your last chance to release the aliens.

  “He’s back!” I say. They hush.

  No. This is your last chance. I’ll blow you out of the water if you don’t back down and leave the bay. I won’t let you dock.

  And how are you going to do that, exactly?

  You saw the meteor hit Mauna Loa.

  So what.

  That was your warning shot.

  Silence. Then: You’re full of it.

  You want to test me? Next one goes through your prow.

  The mental door between us slams shut. Maybe Buzz is right: he can’t talk and chew gum at the same time. He’s gone off once again to consult.

  “They covered their markings with sheets,” Dad observes.

  “It’s crazy,” Aukina says. “No flag. Our military just walked away from here. This shouldn’t be a surprise. It was bound to happen.”

  “Why’d they do that again?” Dad asks. It’s become a running joke between them.

  Rosie, I’m done playing around. We both know you’d never fi
re on this ship even if you could.

  I’m glad I’m not sitting across the table from him; he’d read me like a book. Don’t press me.

  I’m docking. There’s nothing you can do to stop me. Unless you release the aliens right now. This is your last warning.

  “He’s calling my bluff,” I say. “He’s not going to turn back unless I send the Orchids away.”

  “Well, tell him you can’t!” Dad says. “It’s still too early! Why doesn’t he get it?”

  “I don’t know!” I raise my voice, end up coughing.

  “Hey, look. They’re spray-painting letters on the hull,” Buzz notices. “What is it? Can you tell?”

  Dad asks Keali`i, “You mind popping over to the Banyan loop for a closer look?”

  Keali`i nods and cuts a quick left across traffic.

  Someone is spray-painting the upper reaches of the hull.

  You see that?

  I start. “You’re doing that for me?” I almost ask. But I stop just in time. It’s a trap. If I can see what he’s doing, then he’ll know I’m nearby, that I’d be in the path of my own promised destruction. He’d know I was bluffing.

  See what? You’re a speck on the water.

  Just having some fun.

  Nothing is funny. Turn around. Now.

  A hush falls over the vehicle. We stare out the windows at the battleship.

  “Commander Towers. Towers.” Dad probes the name. “Where do I know that from?”

  We cross a bridge and turn onto Banyan Drive, pull into the parking lot nearest Coconut Island. Dad rolls down his window and holds up his birding binoculars. Mauna Loa is in full view, framed by nearby trees, furiously venting fire and ash high above town. The smell of sulfur is stronger here than it was in Papaikou. “I can read it! It says…U.S.S. Sawfish,” Dad reports.

  “Sawfish?” Aukina says. “If it’s American, it’s not one I know.”

  “He’s toying with us,” I say. “Stalling.”

  “Lei, take a look.” Dad hands the binoculars to me.

  I study the ship, but I don’t know what I’m looking for. The graffiti is straightforward. I surrender the binocs. “I don’t think he’s…all there,” I say. “What if he’s crazy?”