Illumine Her

by Sieni A. M.

  Under the wide and starry sky,

  Dig the grave and let me lie.

  Glad did I live and gladly die,

  And I laid me down with a will.

  This be the verse you grave for me:

  Here he lies where he longed to be;

  Home is the sailor, home from the sea,

  And the hunter home from the hill.

  Alana stretched out and lay over the tomb, peering up at the sky. Branches swayed in the wind, partially blocking the dusky sphere above. A star began to wink and twinkle in greeting. As quickly as the next breeze came, a strong sense of nostalgia swelled in her chest, and her eyes became moist. She fingered the small shell that dangled around her neck, a gift from her father, and her thoughts were suddenly on him.

  “Lana, don’t ever settle for something short of amazing in whatever you do in your life—there are a myriad of paths and choices to be made. Seek out the signs that speak to your heart and follow them. Then rely on God to protect you the rest of the journey.” He spoke those words to her when she left home for the first time to attend university. Of course he had to then go and add parental guidance as well. “Your mother and I have done everything we can to raise you to be the beautiful and responsible young woman that you are now. Now it’s up to you to make decisions on your own based on the values and morals that you have been brought up with.”

  Alana smiled at the memory. As much as she inwardly berated the over protectiveness coming from her family, in a way she was grateful to them for the fierce way they expressed their love. Even in death, her father was parenting her as she recalled his words of advice in all its cloaked wisdom and love.

  Her thoughts hovered to his last moments on earth. The familiar ache squeezed her chest as she anticipated what his final thoughts would have been. Did he feel as grateful for his life and as ready for death as Robert Louis Stevenson’s engraved words? Did he even have enough time to reflect? God, it was too painful to think about. Damn the dusk and all its memories, she thought as she straightened and wiped angrily at her eyes. And damn that drunk driver to hell.

  ***

  He was out there. Her father’s killer. Sitting in the front yard on the muddy grass with the mat over his head. He had come to carry out the ifoga, a dramatic custom for showing remorse and asking forgiveness from her family. It had rained earlier in the morning and still he sat, waiting under the stifling heat of the afternoon sun. He was there since dawn, and she didn’t feel sorry for him. His humility didn’t touch her, and she didn’t care if he hadn’t eaten or drank anything; her heart had turned to stone long ago. Alana peered out the louvers but kept herself hidden from view. Her father wasn’t even cold in the ground, and he was already out there begging. Let him beg for eternity, she thought, fisting her hands and clenching her teeth. Let him hurt until he got ill; she didn’t care. Her mother was in her room mourning and her brother sat in the living room, his face hardened and tense. Their uncles surrounded him consulting. How long should they keep him waiting? When was the appropriate time to forgive him? She felt sick to her stomach hearing them talk this way. She didn’t want to forgive him. She could never forgive him for what he did. He took away life and he should suffer for it with his own. When the talking ceased, her brother stood and walked towards the front door.

  She gripped his arm and halted him. “No, David. Don’t do it,” she pleaded.

  It was too easy to carry it out because once the final powerful act was done. It was over. She couldn’t hold anything over him anymore.

  “Alana, let him go!” her uncle snapped at her bitterly. “He has paid enough today. It’s time for our family to honor our part.”

  Alana’s throat tightened and she reined in the angry tears that threatened to spill over. Letting go of his arm, she watched helplessly as David strode outside to her father’s killer. Standing over his hunched position, he paused. Alana sucked in a shuddered breath and held it. Slowly, very slowly, David lifted his hand and pulled the mat away. Away it fell to the ground, and she closed her eyes as tears slipped through.

  “No! No!” she cried. But when she opened them, she didn’t see her father’s killer sitting on the ground. There instead was a pulsing white glow, and it was coming from Chase Malek.

  Alana gasped and flung her eyes open. The room was dark and she blinked until she made out the mosquito net that hung over her bed. Clutching her chest, she tried to slow her rapid breathing. Her sweat drenched body shook with tremors, and air came out of her mouth in choppy bursts. Tears slipped down her cheeks, and she swiped at the moisture on her face. A dream, she reassured herself. It was only a dream. But she knew that wasn’t entirely true because her father was still dead; the ifoga had been carried out, and her family forgave his killer.

  But Chase, she shuddered, Chase was very much alive and real.

  Chapter 9

  I’m baking in this, Alana thought as she tugged on the dress that covered her from her chest to her toes. Standing in the corner of the seamstress’s living room, she inspected herself in the mirror that was temporarily propped up for customers. The material was an elegant soft silk that clung to her curves, but the combination of stifling heat and tropical humidity made for an uncomfortable duo. She was sweating under the arms and wanted nothing more than to strip out of the garment and walk around with only a lavalava for modesty.

  Moira, their tailor, worked from home. To Alana it looked more like the inside of a washing machine than anything else with clothes strewn everywhere, bits of colorful cloth and material draping over the chairs, and some ready-made shirts and dresses hanging from wire hangers. There was no doubt in her mind that Moira was very good at what she did. The products that were a result of her creative genius impressed her immensely, especially since the last time Alana tried to bring needle and cloth together, she ended up sewing them into her skirt. Twice. She was in awe that Moira printed her own material in unique designs and then fashioned them into clothing, table runners, and pillow covers. Her mother called her their fairy godmother with an accomplished wand, and she was about to turn them all into Cinderellas.

  They were all here for the final fitting—Malia, Perlita, Aunt Malae, and her cousins. Alana glanced around the room and saw the other bridesmaids in their dresses, Moira moving around them with pins in her mouth adjusting here and there. Malia and her mother were observing closely; her sister had no problem giving orders on exactly what she wanted. Aunty Malae lounged lazily on a chaise, fanning herself with the biggest ili Alana had ever seen. Malia chose well, she thought. Alana admired the emerald green she picked for the dresses. Coupled with a bouquet of fuchsia flowers, she knew the effect was going to be stunning. She liked that each dress was designed uniquely to accentuate each woman’s body. Hers was strapless, maxi length, and the skirt of it billowed around her waist, while the others were either one-shouldered or V-neck. She admitted she felt beautiful in it, curving in all the right places with just the perfect length.

  A ring tone blared in the room—Ria’s All My Ladies.

  “Alana! Your phone.” Malia passed her bag and she dug around in it until her fingers clutched her cell phone.

  Manu.

  “Hi, Manu,” she said. Since her new schedule put her on afternoon shifts that stretched into the night, it had been a while since she saw him.

  “You sound tired,” his deep voice came through the line. She was tired. With the stress of work and the same dream that haunted her when she closed her eyes at night, she had little rest. “What are you up to?” he asked.

  Alana sighed. “I’m currently under the beck and call of my sister. Wedding stuff. But we’re almost done. Are you at work?”

  “Yes, but I just finished up.” He paused and Alana sensed hesitation. She heard his deep intake of breath before he spoke. “Do you want to hang out tonight?”

  That was something new since they returned home, she thought. While they had the occasional lunch now and then at work, they had never ventured beyond tha
t. “Yes, I’d love to,” she answered. “I’m off tonight. What did you have in mind? Wait—don’t you have rugby practice?”

  “Nah, it got canceled. What do you want to do?”

  Alana thought about it a moment, then answered, “I want to do something to get my mind off all this wedding drama.” And my painful dreams, she added to herself. “I want to go dancing. It’s been a while since I did something fun like that, so let’s do it.”

  She heard Manu chortle low. “Okay. I was thinking more a movie, but dancing’s good.”

  “Great.” She smiled.

  “And just so you know, I’m not going to hold back, so if that Gangnam song comes on, I’m going all out. None of this Manu, stop embarrassing me stunts, alright?” His voice rose teasingly to imitate hers.

  Alana laughed. “Fine. I won’t stop you, but just so you know, that’ll be the moment I’ll move away and pretend that I don’t know you.”

  She could hear the grin in his response. “Pick you up at eight?”

  “Sounds good. See you then.”

  ***

  Alana checked her appearance in the bathroom mirror. She had five minutes before Manu was scheduled to arrive. Admiring the white summer dress that stopped around her knees, she paired it with strappy wedges she hoped wouldn’t leave her limping by the end of the night. Her hair was pulled up high and showed off her stud earrings. It had been a long time since she could just relax, and tonight she was determined to have fun with one of her best friends. With the pressures of work and the wedding, and ever mindful of the incident with Mr. Filipo and Chase, she was prepared to leave that all behind and have a well-deserved break. Spraying on some Burberry perfume, she stepped out into the hallway.

  “Where do you think you’re going dressed like that?” David asked, his frown marring his face.

  Alana inwardly cringed. She predicted the typical big brother act would come down on her before she stepped out the front door.

  “Manu’s coming over to pick me up. We’re heading out.”

  David studied her. “You’re going with Manu?” he asked.

  “That’s what I said,” she answered coolly, sashaying her way into the living room where she picked up her purse from the table.

  Alana knew there wouldn’t be a problem with her spending time with Manu. David approved of him, especially since Manu took over his role as big brother-protector in Fiji, shadowing her and Sera whenever they went out. David blew out air through his nose before nodding in acknowledgment. She could tell he didn’t like the way she was dressed, but Alana needed her family to know that she wasn’t their baby sister anymore. She needed this—to go out and have fun. For too long she had been wrapped up in grief. It was time to let go and forget, even if just for one night. She was a responsible grown woman in her early twenties, a university graduate, and a working professional who could make sensible decisions and wouldn’t just lose her wits about her when presented with the opportunity to let go and have some fun. She had a moral compass and knew her limits. Besides, she was just heading out with a best friend to have a good time. Nothing wrong with that.

  When she saw the headlights of Manu’s car pull into the driveway which sent the dogs into crazy mode, Alana took a few treats for them and headed out the door. Nerves took over her stomach as she descended the steps—whether it was from the growling mutts or the impending night out in town, she wasn’t sure. Think fun times, she coaxed herself. You need this.

  Manu stepped out of his silver truck and came towards her. He left the engine running and the headlights put her on show in the front yard.

  “Damn girl, you look amazing,” he approached and bent low to peck her lightly on the cheek. “I’m going to have to go back home and get my machete to fight off the guys tonight.”

  Alana made a face. “Thanks, but that’s highly unlikely. You look nice yourself,” she complimented.

  Dressed in dark jeans and a grey buttoned shirt that stretched across his shoulders when he led her to his car, Manu opened the passenger door for her, and she stepped up gingerly to the front seat.

  “Hey sole Manu, how are you doing, bro?” David stepped off the porch and made his way to the car.

  Manu shut the door and turned to greet her brother. Behind the closed window she heard them catching up on rugby and work. It seemed to go on forever. She tapped the window impatiently, and with a few laughs Manu made his way to the driver’s side, her brother heading back to the house.

  Once they were buckled in and he shifted the car into gear, Alana perused his collection of music discs: the Black Eyed Peas, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Savage, Oshen, Rock City, some smooth jazz, and classical guitar. She admired his varied taste. Flicking through the binder, she paused and raised her eyebrows at a mixed Bollywood CD.

  “What is this?” she asked.

  Manu looked over and shrugged in mock innocence. “What? We lived in Fiji for years. Some of its musical tastes were bound to influence me.”

  Alana snorted. “Then how come you refused to come to the cinema and watch the Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham rerun with me and Sera?”

  She missed those days with Sera of movie-watching and popcorn-eating. They were welcomed breaks to the vigorous studying and assignments that dominated most of her time. She enjoyed the occasional Bollywood movie, and while half of Fiji’s population was ethnically Indian, she had access to all the films and music she wanted.

  “Are you kidding me? Guy’s got a rep to protect.” He smirked in her direction. “I couldn’t be seen going into that sappy movie with the two of you.”

  She laughed out loud. “But it’s okay to listen to the music in the safety of your car? As long as no one finds out, right?” she teased.

  “Hey, they’ve got some pretty cool beats,” he defended.

  Alana smiled and carefully selected a disc, popping it into the player. “Right, let’s do this then.”

  The beat to Akon’s Chammak Challo immediately filled the cab space, and she started to dance in her seat while Manu drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. She let her gaze roam to the darkness outside. Where they lived there were seldom lampposts, so the only light illuminating the road were provided by the headlights and the occasional car that passed them going in the opposite direction. Her family’s home was truly in the boondocks, isolated from the hustle and bustle of town where they were currently heading.

  They settled into relaxed conversation, punctuated by comfortable silences. Manu informed her about his upcoming rugby matches and a doctor’s conference he was interested in attending in New Zealand. Alana told him about the places she was looking forward to taking Sera when she arrived and asked for suggestions.

  “We can take her to Namua Island. She can get a taste of sleeping in an open fale on the beach,” he offered.

  Namua was one of Alana’s favorite places in the world. Situated on the south, it was reachable only by boat and was home to one of the prettiest beaches she had ever seen. What appealed to her the most was the privacy it afforded. One was simply cut off from the rest of the world as there was no electricity, no phones, and no internet.

  “Yes! That’s a brilliant idea,” she agreed wholeheartedly.

  When they drove past the main street that was popular for its variety of dance clubs, she turned to him in puzzlement. “We’re not stopping here?”

  “Nope. Got something I think you’ll like better.”

  Manu passed the town area with its lights blinking farewell and drumming music fading away in the distance. He turned the car onto a dark road that swept along the shore. Steep rocky hills graced one side while the rumbling of the surf could be heard from the other. They traveled in silence for twenty minutes, the road curving and dipping, until he pulled onto the side and led them on a bumpy ride towards the direction of the ocean. Leafy branches swooped low and slipped along the side of the car, creating an even darker effect. Alana couldn’t stop the chuckle bubbling inside of her at the paradox.

  “I get all
dressed up for a night out on the town and we’re heading towards the bushes,” she commented playfully.

  Manu nodded and smiled. “Just trust me.”

  The car meandered along the rocky road before it came to a halt in a dark grassy clearing. Through the darkness, Alana could make out several cars parked in the vicinity. She counted fifteen.

  “Where are we?” she asked, her curiosity peeking.

  “You’ll see.” He angled his head in her direction and smirked.

  “You know you can drop the mysterious act now. You’ve got me. I’m intrigued.” She smiled as she stepped out of the truck.

  “You’re not going to need those shoes,” Manu said as he came to stand beside her, pointing to her feet.

  “What? Oh come on, I never get a chance to wear these.”

  “Well, if you love them that much, I suggest you take them off before they get ruined in the dirt.”

  Alana sighed before bending down to undo the straps. She placed them in the car before Manu locked up. He led her past the other cars until they came to a crest that overlooked the beach below. Alana whistled low. The drop was steep and she grabbed onto his arm, concerned that the wind would accidentally push her over the edge. She held on tight as he took a path that was off to the side, shrouded by bushes and weeds. She kept her eyes to the ground in fear of tripping over a rock or root plant. How he knew where to step in the pitch black, she didn’t know, but she concluded that he’d been here before countless times. The path drooped down and arched along until they came to a set of wooden steps built into the hillside. Before she could utter the question rattling around in her head, she heard the music. Low thumps in the distance followed by laughter could be deciphered as she made her way blindly, trusting Manu’s lead.

  “We’re almost there.”

  Alana looked up then and saw lights filtering through the thicket of trees.