06-I'm Kona Love You Forever

by JoAnn Bassett

  “I am. Hard night last night.”

  “Anything you want to talk about? I mean, after all, you’ve certainly helped me with my emotional baggage.”

  “Mahalo, but it’s nothing.” I shot her a quick smile and once again changed the subject. “Are you still planning on going to the park blessing on Saturday?”

  “Yes. Ray and I have asked the couple next door to mind the farm while we’re gone. We gave a substantial donation to fix up the play area and we’d love to see the keiki try it out for the first time.”

  “Lili’s asked me to stick around for it,” I said.

  “Really? That’s not necessary. She’s more than welcome to come with us if you need to get back to Maui.”

  “That’s kind of you. But I don’t mind staying. I don’t have anything I need to get back to right away.”

  “Maybe she’s hoping you’ll find out something about her birth parents,” Loke said. “She told me she and David have postponed their wedding, but I can understand why she’s still curious about her biological parents.”

  “Yeah, I’d like to know what happened there myself.” I stared out at the vivid green trees enveloping the hillside like a lumpy comforter. “I was raised hanai and found out about my biological father just last summer. It’s a strange thing, not knowing who you came from. For the longest time I felt like a fallen tree in the forest. I was the same as everyone around me but I had no roots.”

  Loke leaned in and gave me a hug. “So, you’re going to stay and help Lili?”

  “I’ll do what I can.”

  I waited for Lili to finish the tour she was conducting and asked if I could speak to her in private.

  “Sure,” she said. “By the way, mahalo for staying over. Loke and Ray are nice to me, but I feel kinda alone, you know? My mom and me used to do everything together. I know you’re not her, but having you here makes me feel better.”

  “That’s good, because that’s what I want to talk to you about. If I’m going to stick around, I need to find a place to stay. I was down in Kailua-Kona at a fancy hotel but I can’t afford it.”

  “Your boyfriend’s gone?” she said.

  That was an understatement.

  “Yeah, he had to go back to Maui.”

  “You could stay here with me. The bed’s kinda little, but we’re both small. I think it’ll work. That is, if you want.”

  “Loke said you’d like me to keep looking into what happened with your birth certificate.”

  “Yeah, I would. I feel kinda like you owe me, you know? I was fine with the one I had, but then you said it wasn’t any good. For my whole life I’ve been that girl and now I’m not. It makes me feel, like, kinda creepy or somethin’.”

  I knew exactly how it felt.

  “I’ll do what I can, but not because I owe you. I’ll do it because you deserve to know. Sooner or later, the truth will come out. It always does.”

  “Yeah. I s’pose. But I’d like to get this figured out before David and I get married. Our kids will want to know about both sides of their family.”

  “Right. So, how about we make a deal? I’ll stay for three more days to track down your real birth certificate if you’ll agree to call your parents and tell them where you are. I know you’re mad at them, but they’re worried sick about you.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “They are. Your dad came to my house. They’re not happy about you getting married so young, but they love you. Can you imagine what you’re putting them through? Not knowing if you’re okay? I’ll bet they jump every time the phone rings.”

  She twisted her mouth to the side. “Okay. But let me use your phone. My dad’s got friends in the Maui Police Department. I wouldn’t put it past him to get them to track my phone.”

  I agreed. I wasn’t about to point out that since I was staying with her if they tracked my phone they’d find her sharing the same bed.

  CHAPTER 24

  David grudgingly agreed to stay at Shayna’s. I pictured him stealthily slipping in and out of the messy house, sleeping on the smelly stained sofa and taking a wide arc around the ill-tempered dog guarding the chaos.

  On Friday morning Lili said, “David hates it at his sister’s. She’s on him night and day about how he made their mom kill herself.”

  “He sticks around there? Why doesn’t he just leave during the day?”

  “Well, first off, he doesn’t have a car. And second, where would he go? When his dad kicked him out he called me a slimy skank. He even said David’s mom was totally against our getting married. He said maybe that’s why she killed herself.”

  “But you told me his mom had given her blessing,” I said.

  “Yeah, that’s what David told me before. But maybe his mom changed her mind or something. Anyway, I told David if he wanted to get un-engaged or whatever I’d understand, but that made him mad.”

  “Why would his father call you names?”

  “Who knows? He’s a horrible person. I tried to tell David he’d be better off without his dad in his life, and that really made him mad. We’ve started fighting a lot. I think he’s sad about his mom dying and he’s taking it out on me.”

  “Does David seriously believe he might be responsible for his mom’s suicide?” I said.

  “Who knows? He still says he thinks it was because she lost her job. But I’m starting to worry maybe Shayna and Pono are right. Maybe she did it because of David. The worst part is, we’ll never know.”

  “Well, there’s not much I can do about that but I can still work on locating your birth certificate,” I said. “I’ve only got today, since tomorrow’s Saturday and the state offices will be closed for the weekend.”

  “And tomorrow is David’s mom’s park blessing,” Lili said.

  “Oh, that’s what we’re calling it now, ‘David’s mom’s park’? I hope you guys won’t be too disappointed if they don’t mention her at the blessing. You know, folks are skittish about talking about people who’ve killed themselves. It’s kind of a bad kapu thing.”

  “I know. But David’s pretty sure they’re gonna be nice about it. He thinks since she did it because she got laid off they sort of owe her.”

  “What’s with this ‘owing’ thing? You think I owe you and now David thinks the Parks Department owes his mother. When will you realize that thinking people ‘owe’ you is the wrong way to look at life? President Kennedy, from the 1960’s said, ‘Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country’.”

  “Seriously? The 1960s? That was, like, a million years ago.”

  “Maybe, but it’s still true,” I said. “You’re expecting me to do all the heavy lifting in figuring out this birth certificate mess. Why is it up to me? Why aren’t you doing anything?”

  Her eyes grew shiny and she looked away. I figured she was about to cry, but I didn’t care. I’d had it with people making demands. If Hatch wanted to talk about marriage, we should’ve discussed it in private. And if Lili wants to find her birth parents, then she needs to suck it up and be willing to confront the likes of Charlene Cooper.

  “What do you want me to do?” she said.

  “I want you to woman-up and take a drive with me.”

  ***

  We arrived at Charlene’s goofy purple house at about noon. Charlene hadn’t struck me as a “lady who lunched,” but since she’d hinted she still practiced midwifery and who knows what else, I figured there was a chance she’d be out measuring bellies or scrutinizing chi or whatever it was she did.

  I asked Lili to lead the way and told her I wanted her to do the talking. We got to the front door and she saw the gong.

  “Hey, that’s cool. Can I bong it?”

  “Go ahead. I think that’s what it’s there for.”

  She gripped the striker and let loose with a whack. The initial sound was not appreciably louder than when Hatch had struck it, but the reverberation went on for what seemed like a ridiculously long time.

  A rheumy eye a
ppeared in the tiny window in the door. Then the door opened and there stood Charlene. She looked even scarier than she had on Tuesday night, if that was possible. She’d draped a dark purple cape over a black sack dress, and her hair looked like an electrician’s apprentice who’d just learned, first-hand, why you should cut the power before poking around in a light socket.

  “Yes,” she said, taking in the full measure of Lili’s youthful innocence. If I believed in such things, I’d have said Charlene looked like a killer bee about to suck the spiritual nectar from an unsuspecting blossom.

  Then she saw me and glared. “It’s you. Whatever you want, I don’t have it. You need to leave.”

  “Look, I’m sorry about the way we left things the other night. I’ve come to apologize, but if you aren’t willing to accept my apology, at least please don’t take it out on her.”

  Charlene dismissed me with her eyes and turned her attention to Lili. “What’s your name, love?”

  “Lili’uokalani. After our queen,” said Lili.

  “And your last name?” Charlene said.

  Lili sighed. “That’s what I’m here about.”

  Charlene glared at me. “I will welcome this lovely young woman into my home. You can wait out here.” She flicked a finger in the direction of an enormous orange tabby curled up on the only chair on the porch. “Don’t mess with Charlie,” she said. “He bites.”

  I waited outside for close to ten minutes before Lili reappeared.

  “Well,” I said. “How’d it go?”

  “She was really nice. She told me she thinks my mom was just given the wrong birth certificate when they came to get me.”

  “Okay, but did she give you any clue of where we might find the correct one?”

  “She said government paperwork doesn’t matter. She told me she’d like me to come in for a mystical session with her and she’d help me spiritually locate my birth parents. She said that’s what’s important. Also, she said since her name was on the old paperwork, she’d be happy to help. Free of charge.”

  “But no birth certificate?”

  “No, but who cares? Since we’ve already put the wedding off until after I’m eighteen I don’t need one. You said after I’m eighteen I could use my driver’s license. I don’t care about a piece of paper; I want to know who my birth parents are.”

  “But without a birth certificate you’ll never be able to get a passport. Or a top security clearance. Or be president.”

  She laughed. “Like anyone on the mainland thinks Hawaii birth certificates are for real anyway. And besides, why would I need a passport? I don’t want to go anyplace where I’d need one.”

  We got in the car and I could’ve sworn I saw creepy Charlene peering out at us as I pulled away. I wish Farrah would’ve been able to stick around for a while after the botched proposal. She was the queen of woo-woo. If she could get within five feet of Charlene Cooper, I was certain she’d be able to tell me exactly why the woman made me so uneasy.

  ***

  I dropped Lili off at the coffee farm and drove back out to Malia Byer’s house. By now, the police tape had been taken down, but the place still exuded a disturbing air. As if Malia’s soul was lingering in the garage, waiting for someone to hear her side of the story. I wondered why David hadn’t chosen to stay there, but then figured the memories were probably too painful.

  I went across the street and tapped on Edie Sanders’ door. She appeared in seconds, as if monitoring in-coming gossip was her highest priority.

  “I knew you’d be back,” she said. “I saw you talkin’ to Gary. What’d that no-count loser have to say for himself?”

  “He wasn’t very chatty,” I said. “But I see what you mean about the animosity. He actually said, ‘good riddance.’ I was shocked, to say the least. I mean, if he was involved in Malia’s death, wouldn’t he realize how stupid that was?”

  “Well, in Gary’s case, callin’ him stupid is a compliment,” she said. “That dude doesn’t have the brains of a rabid bat.”

  I told her about seeing the respirator.

  “Oh, yeah. Well, when he’s of a mind to do a lick of work he restores old cars. I seen him wearing that thing while he paints ‘em. He looks like an alien from outer space.”

  “But he could’ve also used it in Malia’s garage,” I said. “To protect him from breathing in the carbon monoxide.”

  “Huh. Well, I wouldn’t put it past him. You know, things got a lot worse between Malia and Gary after Pono moved out.”

  “Did Pono and Gary get along okay?” I said.

  “Oh, honey. Those two were like brothers in arms. I think it had more to do with Malia’s attitude toward Gary than Pono actually liking him. It was one of them triangle things, ya know? Three’s a crowd, so the two gang up on the other one. I believe Pono used to hang out at Gary’s just to spite her. He knew she’d rather set herself on fire than go past those dogs of his to get Pono to come home and do chores.”

  “Have you heard anything about the autopsy results?” I said. In any normal situation it would be ridiculous for me to ask a civilian if she had advance knowledge of information clearly protected by not only the federal HIPAA Privacy Rule, but also by local police protocols and plain common decency. But I had a feeling Edie didn’t pay no mind to such folderol.

  “Not yet,” she said. “But I’ve got a girlfriend who works at the hospital. She works in the kitchen, but she’s got ears like a…I don’t know…maybe an elephant? They got real good ears, don’t they? They’re big anyway.” She stopped, seeming to ponder whether elephants were known for their acute hearing.

  “I think you’re right. Elephants can hear for miles around,” I said. I had no idea if that was bogus or not, but I was eager for her to continue.

  “Anyway, she knows pretty much everything that goes on up there. And if she doesn’t, she’ll know someone who does.”

  “Could you call her?” I said. “It would really be interesting to know the facts, don’t you think?”

  She seemed to ponder my request. “I s’pose. But everyone knows how Malia died. I mean, all that smoke comin’ out of the tailpipe and her sitting in there with the door closed.”

  “But you also raised the possibility that Gary might have been involved. Maybe the autopsy shows she was drugged or tied up or something. Her memorial service is next week. Don’t you think her family deserves to know what the coroner found?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe it would just rile ‘em up more.”

  “True,” I said. “But put yourself in their place. What’s worse, thinking your mother killed herself or that she was an innocent crime victim?”

  “Don’t neither one sound good to me,” she said.

  “No, but people agonize over a suicide. They feel guilty they didn’t see it coming and they’re angry at the dead person for what they’ve done. There’s a lot of blaming the victim with suicide.”

  “Maybe so,” she said. “If there was anything fishy, they should probably be told.”

  “And given how bureaucracy works, we both know the official results won’t be available for weeks.”

  “True.” She invited me in while she made the call. Her friend didn’t answer so she left a message to call back.

  “I don’t want to keep bugging you,” I said. “Would you mind giving me your friend’s name and address? I’d like to ask her a few questions in person.”

  Edie eyed me as if I’d requested her social security number and mother’s maiden name. For her, gossip was the currency she dealt in and insider information the gold standard that backed it up. There was no way she’d hand over the keys to her personal Fort Knox.

  “Tell you what,” she said. “You give me your phone number and when Nancy calls back, we’ll both go talk to her. She’s kinda like what you’d call a ‘private person.’ She probably wouldn’t take kindly to a complete stranger showin’ up at her door.”

  Edie called me at nine-fifteen on Friday night.

  “I got
the call,” she said in a hushed voice. “I’m ten-four to go to Nancy’s at nine tomorrow morning. You still want to tag along?”

  I started to remind her I was the one with the questions, but then backed off.

  “Sure. If you don’t mind,” I said.

  “No problem. Pick me up at ten to nine. And don’t be late.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Nancy Clevinger lived in a tidy plantation-style house up the hill from Edie’s. The yard consisted of two symmetrical squares of closely-cropped lawn dissected by a neatly painted sidewalk leading to the front porch. Along each edge of the sidewalk was a knee-high hedge of croton bushes, those shrubs with rubbery leaves in circus colors—green, yellow, red and orange. Edie had warned me I might have to wait outside if her friend expressed any concerns about spilling work secrets in my presence.

  “Like I told you,” Edie said as we came up the sidewalk. “She might not want to say much. She’s doesn’t know you like she knows me.”

  I nodded.

  “Aloha,” said Nancy as she opened the door. She was a petite, smiling woman who looked at least seventy-five. I was surprised a woman her age was still working.

  The two women hugged. I extended my hand when Edie introduced me.

  “Oh my,” Nancy said. “We don’t stand on formality here.” She gave me a quick hug and patted my hand. “Come on in. I’ve made us a fresh pot of coffee.”

  “You’re not working today?” I said.

  “It’s Saturday,” Edie said in a schoolmarm voice. She shot me a bit of stink eye as if to put me on notice she’d be the one asking the questions.

  “That’s right, it’s the weekend,” I said. “But hospitals run twenty-four seven. Isn’t that true, Nancy?” I wanted Edie to know I wasn’t about to be cowed by the neighborhood chinwag.

  “Well, I’m management,” said Nancy. “Took me nearly forty-four years, but once they figured out I wasn’t leaving until I got the good pension, they had to give it to me.”

  “You manage the hospital kitchen?” I said.

  Edie’s face had gone wooden, as if she was having serious second-thoughts about allowing me to come along with her on this mission.