Leaving Lana'i

by Edie Claire

  Sitting at the table was better.

  As the family began eating, Malaya asked Maddie to catch them up on her life on the mainland, which she did happily, between bites. The Spam-ghetti was fabulous, but even if it hadn’t been, she was famished. There were foods she liked and foods she didn’t — anything fishy came to mind — but she had long since learned to eat either without complaint. Before coming to the island she had existed on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and things that came in boxes with cartoon characters. The diet that awaited her on the island, far from the prototypical pork- and beef-laden experience of a tourist, consisted of whatever meat could be shipped in an unrefrigerated can and a bunch of Asian foods she’d never heard of. But Maddie was always hungry. So Maddie ate whatever was offered her.

  As a starving graduate student, she still did.

  “We don’t have many stray cats wandering around on Lana'i anymore,” Aki offered, responding to Maddie’s explanation of her upcoming work on the effect of feral cats on island ecosystems. “If anyone traps one, they take it to the refuge. Seems to work pretty well.”

  “I know about the refuge,” Maddie said eagerly. “That’s one of the things I want to do while I’m here — go see how it works.” She smiled to herself. The feline refuge hadn’t existed when she lived here; for the first such experiment of its kind to pop up on Lana'i was too fortuitous for words. The concept of feline “group homes” as an alternative to traditional shelters or trap-neuter-release programs fit in wonderfully with her research, and if she played her cards right, “field trips” to Lana'i could someday become a work expense.

  “Gloria’s got one more day of school break; she can drive you out there tomorrow,” Aki offered pleasantly. Gloria shot him a resentful look, but he ignored it. “What time would you like to go?” he asked Maddie.

  “Any time tomorrow is fine,” she replied. “I just have to be back at the boat harbor by five.”

  “The most important thing for you to see is the cultural center,” Malaya insisted. “You absolutely must make time while you’re here!”

  “I will. I’m looking forward to it,” Maddie said sincerely.

  Aki’s face lit up. “Ah! And as soon as you get back to Maui, you’ll have to go and see Kai. It’ll be quite a surprise for him, eh?”

  Gloria let out a snort. Malaya and Nana exchanged a worried look.

  Maddie watched the three women in puzzlement. Gloria’s reaction she could halfway understand, insulting as the implication might be. Apparently, in Gloria’s mind, Maddie’s appearance deemed her as morally suspect, and Kai — now under the influence of religious crazies — would somehow be either offended or upset by the very sight of her. The source of the older women’s angst was impossible to guess. Why had Nana avoided talking about Kai earlier? Was there something about him they didn’t want her to know?

  If so, Kai’s father seemed oblivious to it. “You should just show up at his office,” Aki chuckled. “See how long it takes him to recognize you!”

  Maddie grinned. “I was thinking of doing just that, actually,” she confessed. “It would be cruel, but fun!”

  Aki laughed merrily. “Do it! We won’t tell him.”

  Maddie felt movement under the table. Malaya had dropped down in her seat. Aki jerked and looked at his wife questioningly. Malaya stared back at him.

  What the heck?

  “Can I go?” Gloria interjected. “I so want that moment on video.”

  No one replied. Awkward silence prevailed as Malaya and Aki kept up an animated conversation with no words and Nana stared down at her hands in her lap.

  Maddie tried to translate, but gave up. “So,” she asked gaily, “I understand Kai is a lawyer now. What kind of work does he do?”

  Aki’s attention turned back to Maddie. “He just graduated from law school last summer,” the proud father announced. “Summa cum laude.”

  “Impressive,” Maddie congratulated.

  Aki nodded at her. “He’s doing an internship now. With a nonprofit environmental group. They’re national, but he snagged a spot at their office in Kahului.” Aki grinned. “We were all so happy to have him home again. He’d been gone for so long.”

  “Like forever,” Gloria added sourly.

  “He’d like to keep working for them after the year’s up, but they don’t hire very many interns on,” Aki continued. “We keep our fingers crossed, though.”

  Maddie mulled the information. “I’m not surprised Kai went into law,” she commented. “He was always making a case for something or other, wasn’t he?”

  Malaya laughed. “His teachers used to call him ‘the crusader.’ He could be so shy and quiet, but when he got all worked up about something, he’d argue with a rock!”

  “The boy believes in justice,” Aki praised.

  “But he’s never been judgmental, and that’s what’s important,” Nana chimed in.

  Gloria snorted again. She leaned toward Maddie and rolled her eyes. “What they’re all thinking, but don’t want to say, is that he’s turned into a damned prig.”

  “Gloria!” Malaya chastised hotly.

  “Well, he has!” the teen shot back.

  “Define ‘prig,’” Maddie said.

  Gloria opened her mouth, but Aki was quicker. He silenced his daughter with a stern stare — one with which Maddie was disturbingly familiar. “In this house,” he began in a decisive tone, “we allow everyone to choose their own religion. Or not. And we do not—” his dark eyes shot a withering look at his daughter, who crumpled under the weight of it, “under any circumstances, mock what anyone else believes. Understood?”

  Gloria’s eyes remained downcast. She made the tiniest of nods. Aki’s thunderous look evaporated and he smiled at Maddie again. “More Spam-ghetti?”

  Maddie accepted the offer, pondering as she did so. This was the second time religion had been mentioned in reference to Kai, which was curious. Her own parents were nominally Presbyterian but hadn’t gone to church at all when they lived on the island, and so far as she could remember neither had Kai or either of his parents. Nana, on the other hand, had walked to Sacred Hearts every single Sunday for mass. But she had always gone by herself.

  “Forgive me if this is a stupid question,” Maddie asked, bold as usual. “But how did it come about that you have different religions? I suppose I should know all this already, but when I was a kid I never paid any attention to the different families’ backgrounds.”

  Maddie knew now that only a fraction of the individuals currently living on Lana'i were direct descendants of the original Polynesians. Most were the descendants of immigrants who came over in the last century to work on the pineapple plantation. The majority had come from Asian countries across the Pacific — Japan, the Philippines, China, and Korea; but some came from the opposite direction — from Portugal and Puerto Rico. And since most of the island was controlled by American businessmen during that time, haoles had mixed into the fray as well.

  “My family is Japanese, and we were Buddhists,” Aki explained. “Nana is Filipino and a Catholic. Most of the Catholics here are Filipino.”

  “I am three-quarters Filipino,” Nana corrected.

  “That’s right,” Malaya declared. “Nana’s hapa Hawaiian. Her maternal grandmother was full Hawaiian. She was here before the plantation started, back in the nineteen-twenties.”

  Nana nodded. She smiled at Maddie, and her brown eyes glowed with pride. “You know, there were only about a hundred or so native Hawaiians living on the island then, but my grandmother was one of them. She married a Filipino man who came to work in the fields. They had my mother and six other children. My father was full Filipino also. But he didn’t come over until after World War II.”

  “Then Nana married a Lana'ian who was half Filipino and half Puerto Rican,” Malaya added with a chuckle. “Just to give us kids a little more variety, you know.”

  “You?” Gloria said with derision. “I’m all that and half Japanese!”


  “You’re one lucky girl, then,” Aki admonished. He looked at Maddie. “The Nakamas built Lana'i City. My great-great grandfather came over nearly a hundred years ago with two of his grown sons and their families. They were carpenters. Went right to work building all the old city.”

  Malaya chuckled. “And they were fruitful and multiplied.”

  Aki chuckled back. “Oh, yes they were.”

  Maddie smirked. Nakamas were everywhere on the island. There had been three of them in her grade alone.

  “Dad, can I take the truck out tonight?” Gloria blurted.

  Silence descended. The request had come awkwardly out of the blue, and Gloria sensed her own faux pas. She shrank a bit and avoided direct eye contact with her father.

  Aki studied his daughter, seemingly in no hurry to answer. “Ah, that’s right,” he said eventually. “You were supposed to clean the truck today, weren’t you?”

  Gloria nodded emphatically. “I did! It’s all done. I even used upholstery cleaner! And air freshener. It smells like ‘country lilacs’ now.” She smiled thinly, her eyes flickering toward Maddie for the briefest of seconds.

  Air freshener, indeed, Maddie thought wryly. She turned her gaze to Aki. Kai’s father was no fool. Then again, many men had blinders on when it came to their daughters, especially their youngest ones.

  Aki stared at Gloria for a long moment, during which the girl suddenly developed a renewed interest in her Spam-ghetti. He exchanged a long look with his wife. Then he turned back to his daughter again. “Was Dylan Karl in my truck today?” he asked, his deep voice low and deadly calm.

  Gloria’s small frame shrank in her chair. She didn’t answer for a very long time. Then she gave one short, sharp nod.

  “Give me the keys,” Aki replied.

  Gloria fidgeted. She looked at her mother and opened her mouth as if to speak, then her eyes flashed with venom and she shut her mouth again. She got up from her chair, pulled a set of keys from her pocket and slammed them down on the table in front of her father.

  Aki stood, and Gloria bolted for the door. “I still have feet!” she shrieked as she flung herself outside. “You can’t take them away!”

  The door slammed behind her.

  The room went quiet again.

  Malaya cleared her throat loudly. “Well, that was pleasant,” she said with cheerful sarcasm. “Would you like some dessert, Maddie?”

  “Don’t worry about me,” Maddie said quickly. “I have two seventeen-year-old brothers, remember? And yes, I would.” She kept her tone upbeat, trying to lighten the mood, but she could see it wasn’t working. The expression on Aki’s face was distressing. It was anger and frustration and hurt, but there was a great deal more emotion churning in his kind, dark eyes. There was helplessness. And rage. And fear.

  “Excuse me,” he said politely, rising. With slow, measured steps, he walked out.

  Malaya watched with distress as the front door closed behind him, and Nana reached across the table and patted her hand. “Let him go, Malaya,” she said gently. “He needs to be alone. The situation… it’s so hard on his pride.”

  Malaya sank her face in her hands a moment, then gave herself a shake. “I know, I know.” She turned back to Maddie. “I would apologize again, but hey — welcome to life. I should explain, though. This guy, Dylan. Gloria isn’t allowed to see him. I know how useless it is to say that to a seventeen-year-old, but we don’t know what else to do. We’ve all talked to her. Chika’s talked to her. Kai’s talked to her. But she refuses to see how he’s using her.”

  Nana nodded knowingly. “Gloria’s a smart girl, Maddie. Usually. Everybody here knows what goes on… some of the young men that pass through here — they go looking for the local girls. They want to get set up with drugs and… other things. All the girls know to watch for this. Gloria knows. But this one… he’s been living here a while. He works at the golf courses. She’s got herself convinced he’s… different.”

  “He’s not,” Malaya added bitterly. “He’s a shiftless, spoiled party boy. A rich little haole brat who—” She cut herself off and turned to Maddie. “No offense.”

  “None taken,” Maddie murmured. “How old is he?”

  Malaya growled beneath her breath. “Twenty-four.”

  “Twenty-four!” Maddie cried, scooting her chair back with surprise. “Are you kidding me?”

  “I wish,” Malaya replied. “Word is that his family over on the mainland is filthy rich, but he’s dead broke, which tells you something. He’s mowing grass and washing carts, and he wouldn’t have that job if his sweet Uncle Jim hadn’t pulled strings for him. That’s where Gloria comes in. Dylan doesn’t have a car, so he gets her to drive him places. To introduce him to people. To help him buy… things. He manipulates her emotions, jerks her around, then tells her he loves her. He ‘borrows’ money from her — gets her to borrow more from her friends. I don’t even want to know what else he’s talked her into. A high school girl!”

  “But,” Maddie stammered, disgusted, “Aki’s a manager in landscaping! Can’t he get this guy reprimanded? Or maimed or stun-gunned or deported or something?”

  Malaya looked thoroughly miserable.

  Nana spoke up. “That’s the problem, child. ‘Uncle Jim’ is Aki’s boss’s boss. He can’t say a word against the boy. Not on a personal matter like that. Not when Gloria’s above the age of consent and making her own foolish choices.”

  “Oh, my,” Maddie exclaimed, feeling miserable herself. She was about to say, “I had no idea,” but bit back the comment just in time. Earlier today, the idea of tattling on Gloria had seemed overzealous and intrusive. Now she felt like a traitor to Malaya and Aki.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said helplessly.

  Malaya scooped the truck keys off the table and extended them to Maddie. “Gloria won’t be needing these for a while. Why don’t you just drive yourself to the refuge tomorrow? In fact, why not take the truck all day? Explore the island grown-up style?”

  Maddie looked at the dangling keys. She felt terrible about Gloria. She had no idea what she might be able to do to help the situation, but if she came up with anything, she would certainly give it a try. It was the least she could do to repay the kindness of her favorite family on Lana'i.

  In the meantime… She extended her hand, and her fingers closed firmly over the jagged metal of the keys.

  Oh, yeah.

  Chapter 6

  Kai Nakama stared at the legal brief in front of him, fixed his eyes on the first sentence of the third paragraph, and started to read. Several seconds later, he reached the last sentence. Once again, he had absolutely no idea what came in between.

  He sat back in his chair with a groan. Why was he even here? He couldn’t concentrate. He was accomplishing nothing. Except, perhaps, for appearing contrite. Showing dedication.

  Begging for mercy.

  He closed his eyes and rubbed his face with his hands.

  He wasn’t used to failure. Up until today, everything about his internship with EarthDefense had been going fabulously. He was used to things going fabulously, because he was used to working hard for what he wanted. There were obstacles, certainly, but he always found ways around them. As long as he was willing to put forth the effort, the reward had been his for the taking. Never before had he given a task everything he had — only to be shoved flat on his backside.

  Today’s disaster at the negotiating table had been humiliating. His team had failed, utterly and completely. And the fault was his alone.

  His desk phone rang.

  Kai separated his fingers around one eye just enough to peer at the caller ID. He cocked an eyebrow. His mother? Seriously?

  He let it ring once more before guilty visions of an ill family member propelled him to whisk the handset to his ear. “Hi, Mom. Is everything all right?”

  “Kai!” Malaya exclaimed with relief. “What are you doing at work, still? I’ve been calling your cell all day! Didn’t you get my messages?”
r />   Kai sat up. “No. Sorry about that. We were in negotiations — I turned the ringer off. Is something wrong?”

  “No, no,” Malaya said quickly, although her voice sounded less than convincing. “Listen, I guess it’s just as well. Don’t bother listening to the messages now. Just delete them. All I wanted to tell you is that you may be running into somebody you used to know in the next couple days. If you do, please try and remember not to bring up anything… unpleasant. Then afterwards, give me a call and we’ll talk about it. Okay?”

  Kai closed his eyes again. His head ached. “Mom. What are you talking about?”

  “You’ll understand when you see… him. Or her. Now, is everything okay with you? You sound tired.”

  Kai heard a door opening somewhere else in the previously empty office. He stiffened. Maybe this was it. Maybe his boss had come back to fire him. “It’s been a long day. Listen, Mom. I’m sorry, but I have to go. We’ll talk another time, okay?”

  Malaya reluctantly agreed. They hung up.

  Kai listened for more noise, but instead of the expected interior doors opening and closing, all he heard were muffled whispers and the occasional odd bump. He was about to get up and investigate when a light knock sounded on his door.

  “Yes?” he called, sounding several hundred times more self-assured than he felt. He would not quit this internship early. If anyone suggested it, he would plead his case, fight for another chance. He could do this. He knew he could. Still. Even if he wasn’t sure quite how.

  The knob turned. Kai held his breath as he waited to see which attorney’s head popped into view. To his surprise, the door was opened by someone with no head at all. Or at least, without a head in the usual location. He leaned out over his desk to see a tiny toddler, just over two feet tall, standing in the narrow opening grinning at him. She was an unusually beautiful child with wavy light blond hair, giant blue eyes, creamy skin, and chubby red cheeks, and she would have looked like a cherub straight out of a painting if it weren’t for the bright-green plastic turtle sunglasses on her head and the sticky note on her chest which bore a giant smiley face and the words “Hi, Mr. Kai!”