Fly, Butterfly

by Annicken R. Day

  There were mountain formations so perfectly formed that they looked unreal. Whales and dolphins were playing in the crystal blue water below.

  I was overwhelmed, unable to speak.

  When we flew up the Nā Pali coastline, with emerald-colored cliffs towering above the ocean and small beaches tucked in between the perfectly shaped stone formations, the song “Bali Ha’i” started playing in the headset. And soon after, the majestic mountain of Bali Ha’i appeared below us.

  I had goosebumps all over. Overwhelmed with gratitude, I turned my head toward William and mouthed a “thank you.”

  William smiled warmly; he put his hand on mine and gave it a squeeze. Our eyes met, but the moment was interrupted by Kalani’s eager voice in the headset. “Hey, look who’s here!”

  We were right above Tunnels Beach and could see George sitting in his beach chair. Kalani turned the helicopter toward him, hovered above him for a moment, and then moved the helicopter from side to side in a big hello.

  George was on his feet, waving with both arms to us. I could imagine his happy face. He clearly had been in on William’s plans.

  We all waved, and I blew him a kiss, even though I knew he couldn’t see it. But William did. I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn’t dare to look back.

  As we waved George goodbye and continued farther south on the island, Kalani explained that Kaua’i is the oldest of the Hawaiian Islands. In spite of being only approximately 550 square miles, Kaua’i’s climate is different in the south than in the north.

  “While the sun is mostly shining in the south, on the northern part of the island it rains a bit almost every day during the winter months,” he explained. “Thanks to all this water, the island is exceptionally green and lush, and that is why it is called the Garden Island.”

  On our way back to the south, Kalani steered the helicopter toward the center of the island.

  “Now we’re heading toward a mountain called Mount Wai’ale’ale, which means ‘overflowing water’ in Hawaiian,” Kalani explained. “It’s a shield volcano, known as the wettest place on earth.”

  As we approached the gigantic green crater, he steered the helicopter into the middle of it. Suddenly we were surrounded by steep cliffs on three sides, like a cave without a ceiling.

  “The mountain has an average annual rainfall of 460 inches. The island needs the water to keep its high energy level in balance,” Kalani explained and pointed toward one side of the cave. Streams of water were running down the mountain walls.

  “It is called the ‘weeping wall,’” he said. The sight of it moved me. The mountain did look like it was crying.

  The helicopter was hovering in the middle of the cave. The air was vibrating, and I could feel waves of energy surging through my body.

  “Look!” William said. All of a sudden, right in front of us, a 360-degree rainbow appeared. It nearly took my breath away.

  And then, in the briefest of moments, I was enveloped in something so powerful and beautiful that I can only describe it as an embrace by the divine, a kiss from God, and a deep knowing in my heart, that I was safe, that I was loved, and that everything would be fine. I wanted to cry, and I wanted to laugh, so I did a little bit of both. William took my hand again and squeezed it. I knew I wouldn’t have to explain. It felt as if he somehow just knew.

  As we slowly flew back to the airport, listening to a beautiful Hawaiian song on the headset, I was thinking how much this island was changing me. What a different person I had already become.

  Whatever happened in the future, I knew I would look back at these days as the best and most magical days of my life. I glanced over at William. He was leaning over Kalani and pointing at something on the ground, and they both laughed. He was so full of life and joy.

  I wondered what would happen between William and me, if anything at all.

  A new song started playing in the headset. It was Doris Day who joyfully sang “Que Sera Sera”—what will be, will be. I smiled. OK, message received.

  Back at the heliport, Kalani landed the helicopter softly on the ground. A group of tourists were eagerly awaiting their turn.

  We thanked him for the trip and as we got out of the helicopter, William took my hand and held it tightly as we ran with hunched backs toward his car. I loved the feeling of my hand in his.

  Inside the Jeep, we both leaned back in our seats with a happy sigh.

  “Wow,” I said. “That was the most amazing experience of my life. On so many levels.”

  William smiled. “I had a feeling you’d like it.”

  As we drove slowly out of the parking lot, he asked, “Are you ready for the last stop of the tour?”

  “Oh, you mean the ‘serious fun on the beach’ part?”

  “That’s right!” William smiled and winked. “That is, if you think you can handle it.”

  I blushed. Thankfully, William didn’t seem to notice.

  After driving another hour and a half, thirty minutes of it on an extremely bumpy dirt road through Polihale State Park, we finally arrived at a gorgeous beach, almost empty, with big waves crashing against the shore.

  “This is where Mom first introduced me to bodysurfing,” William said as he looked over the beach and the deep blue ocean. “And today I thought I’d introduce it to you.”

  William had packed a cooler, a big blanket, and a beach umbrella. As soon as we put our things down on the beach, he threw off his T-shirt, shouted like Tarzan, and ran right into the water.

  I tried to not look, but I couldn’t help but notice how good he looked in his shorts. I changed into my hideous bathing suit, feeling a bit annoyed with myself for not getting a better one, but then I thought “screw it”—and ran after him. Life was too short to worry about silly bathing suits.

  Out in the water William explained how to catch the perfect wave and just go with it, body straight, arms out, head up, and mouth closed.

  On my first attempt, a huge wave pulled me under. I panicked and swallowed a gallon of ocean. Back up on my feet again, I smiled and pretended that I was enjoying it. I figured this wasn’t the best time to tell him how much I hated having my head underwater.

  The second and third attempts didn’t go much better. Somehow, I always ended up inside the wave instead of on top of it. I was relieved when William suggested a little time-out.

  “Maya, there is one thing you need to understand,” he explained, with laughing eyes.

  “OK, and what’s that?”

  “There’s no way you can control the ocean. You just have to trust it. The ocean wants to play with you, not to be in a battle with you.”

  I had to laugh. Yes, I knew I had control issues and had never been good at trusting anyone—including the ocean, apparently.

  William, however, was in complete surrender, surfing one wave after another, cheering with joy every time he managed to ride a wave all the way to the beach.

  “Let go of control, just go with the flow, and have fun,” he said.

  And when I decided to do just that, the perfect wave came, and I shouted with joy as it carried me all the way to the shore. It almost felt like flying.

  After the first successful wave, I was unstoppable; I wanted to do it again and again. I didn’t get it right every time, but I noticed that the more I relaxed and trusted, the better it went.

  After having played in the waves for hours, we were happy and exhausted. My throat was sore after all the laughing and howling, and all the saltwater I’d drunk.

  We sat down on the blanket, still laughing. I thought William looked adorable with his hair wet and eyes red from all the saltwater. He served up some cold beer and sandwiches from the cooler and I told him they were the best things I’d ever tasted. And I meant it.

  The sun set in the ocean like a giant red fireball. We watched as its light reflected in the wet sand. Everything—the sky, the ocean, and the sand—took on the color of gold.

  We sat there quietly until the sun had set, and the first sta
rs appeared in the sky.

  I was overwhelmed by all the impressions of the day.

  “Imagine if life were made up of days like these,” I said with a sigh.

  William looked at me and smiled. “But it is.”

  We looked at each other, and this time no one looked away. My heart started racing, and my mouth felt dry. When William slowly leaned forward, a familiar inner voice shouted loudly, “Careful, Maya!” and I quickly looked away.

  When I looked back at William again, he was looking over the ocean. The moment was gone. I felt like I should say something, but I was at a loss for words.

  On the drive home we didn’t speak much. It was a comfortable silence, like all silences with William were. But there was something in the air that hadn’t been there before. Something had happened on the beach, but I wasn’t sure what it was. I couldn’t remember ever having felt like this before, and it both scared and excited me.

  “Let go of control, go with the flow, and have fun,” he had told me. “Don’t fight the ocean.” I had finally managed it with the waves. But I still didn’t know how to let go of the need to control how I felt about him.

  I must have fallen asleep on the drive back, because the next thing I knew the Jeep had stopped, and we were home.

  William turned off the engine and sat still for a moment. He took in a deep breath, and I felt he was about to say something. One part of me was curious to know what it was. The other part of me desperately wanted to get out of the car and run.

  The latter won.

  “Thank you so much for an amazing day, William,” I blurted out, before he got to say whatever he was planning to say.

  “You are the best friend a girl could dream of. See you tomorrow. Please give George a big hug from me.”

  Before William could respond, I jumped out of the car and ran toward the beach house. When I got to the back door, I fumbled a bit with the key. Once inside I slammed the door behind me and sank down on the couch with my face in my hands.

  I sighed. What the hell was wrong with me? Now I would never know what he wanted to say.

  I got back on my feet, went into the bathroom, splashed some cold water on my face, and stared back at my own reflection. How come I looked like I was forty but felt—and behaved—like I was fourteen?

  For a moment I thought about calling Lisa, but then I realized I wasn’t ready for her well-intended advice just yet.

  Instead I went to the kitchen, opened the fridge, took out a bottle of white wine, poured myself a glass, and went outside.

  I sat heavily down on the couch, facing the ocean.

  Deep breaths. Think clearly, Maya. William is just a friend.

  I took a sip of my wine and looked at the dark, blue ocean and the crescent moon, hovering right above the horizon.

  OK, I had to admit there had been some special moments between us today, but that could happen between friends too, right? Like, really good friends.

  Maybe that was what William was going to tell me, just before I ran out of his car. That he only had friendly feelings for me?

  Naturally, he would want to tell me as soon as possible to make sure I wouldn’t get hurt. That was the sort of man William was: kind, honest, and compassionate. A man of the aloha spirit.

  Phew. The more I thought about it, the happier I was that I’d said it first—and ran out of the car before he could tell me.

  After I finished my glass of wine, I went back in and got ready for bed. I opened my bedroom window and breathed in the ocean air. I thought about how a glass of wine and some self-talk really could do wonders.

  I felt just fine now.

  I crawled into bed and rested my head on the soft pillow. While listening to the soothing sound of the waves and feeling the gentle breeze on my face, I slowly drifted away.

  Then, in the short space just before I fell into a dreamless sleep, I heard a soft whisper, “But what if?”

  And the last thing I remembered was an ache—deep inside my heart.

  THE CHILDREN OF THE RAINBOW

  Most of the children had already gathered around the big bonfire on Ke’e Beach, overlooking Bali Ha’i. I had brought a blanket to sit on and a knit sweater. Even though the days were warm, I’d learned how cool it became once the sun went down. Some of the children were running around chasing each other. Others were laughing and rolling around in the sand.

  “OK, dear ones, time to gather,” Lani called out, and the children immediately stopped running and came and sat down by the fire. They looked like they had come from every corner of the world, and everyone was dressed in the different colors of the rainbow.

  “Aloha, dear children of the rainbow,” Lani said before she started welcoming every child.

  “Aloha, Jenny, it is good to see you.”

  “Aloha, Keke. I am happy you are here.”

  “Aloha, Luke. I am glad to see your happy face.”

  She gave each and every child a personal welcome. The children replied with “Aloha, Lani.”

  I was glad I had learned the true meaning of “aloha.”

  When it was my turn, Lani looked at me and said, “Aloha, Maya. The children of the rainbow and I are happy you wanted to join us tonight.”

  “Aloha, Lani and the children of the rainbow,” I replied. “Thank you for having me. I am honored to be here.”

  Lani smiled warmly at all the children.

  “As children of the rainbow we know that our mission on earth is to be kind, compassionate, and loving. We live by the aloha spirit in everything we say and everything we do, and our mission is to bring more happiness into this world. As always, I would love to hear about some of the nice things you have done since we last met.”

  All the children but one eagerly raised their hands.

  Lani smiled as each child shared what they had done that week.

  “I gave Noah a hug when he hit his head yesterday,” one kid said.

  “I told Leyla that she is always so kind and helpful,” another almost shouted out.

  “I asked an old lady if I could carry her grocery bag,” another kid said.

  “I gave myself a hug and said I should be kind to myself,” a small girl added.

  “I told my grandma how much I love her,” a tall boy said.

  “I helped a dog find his owner,” Liat shared.

  “I told my mom that she doesn’t need to be sad and that everything will be fine,” a tiny boy with big brown curls and glasses too big for his face said softly.

  Lani walked over and gave the little boy a hug. Something squeezed at my heart when I looked at him.

  When everyone but one girl, who was sitting a bit outside the circle, had shared their stories, Lani leaned toward her.

  “How has your week been, Molly?” Lani asked with a loving voice.

  “Fine,” the girl replied and looked down at her hands that were resting in her lap.

  “Do you have a story to share?” Lani asked.

  The girl shook her head.

  “You are one of the kindest people I know, so I am sure you have a story, if you think really hard.”

  The girl continued looking down at her hands.

  Lani smiled and waited, patiently.

  When the girl finally spoke, her voice was trembling.

  “You always say that aloha starts with loving ourselves so we can extend the love to others.”

  “Yes.” Lani smiled warmly and nodded, encouraging her to continue.

  “I don’t love myself,” Molly almost whispered.

  Lani walked over and gave the timid, little girl a hug.

  “Maybe just for a moment you have forgotten how loveable you are. So, let’s remind you, dear Molly.”

  And then one child after the other started speaking.

  “I love you, because I think you are one of the kindest people I know.”

  “I love you, because when you smile it is as if the sun starts shining.”

  “I love you, because you always like to make othe
r people smile.”

  “I love you, because you always say nice things to me.”

  “I love you, because you are fun to play with.”

  All the children had something nice to say to Molly. Slowly, her face lit up from all the love she received from the other children.

  “See?” Lani said. “You are loved by so many, sweetheart, and if you ever should forget how to love yourself again, remember the love that surrounds you at all times, and you can always borrow some of ours.”

  It was heartwarming to see the little girl’s smile.

  Then Lani picked up her guitar. “Let’s sing ‘Children of the Rainbow,’ dear ones.”

  Their enthusiastic cheer told me that they clearly knew the song well.

  When Lani started to play, the children started singing about the beautiful world of the rainbow children with star-filled heavens and deep blue seas, where we all are sisters and brothers and forever live in peace.

  When they finished singing, they all clapped their hands, and then Lani served them fruit from a big basket she had brought along. The basket was filled with pineapples, mangos, papayas, and coconuts. No wonder all these kids look so healthy and happy, I thought to myself. Imagine growing up in paradise.

  While the children were busy serving themselves some fruit, I asked Lani about the song.

  “It’s a Norwegian children’s song from the seventies,” she told me.

  “Norwegian? How did you come across that?”

  She laughed. “I dated a Norwegian guy for a while when I lived in New York, and he sang it to me. I thought it was magical to learn that someone literally living on the other side of the planet from Hawaii had made a song about the children of the rainbow.”

  “That’s amazing.”

  Lani nodded. “My friend helped me translate it into English and I’ve been singing the song ever since. It’s such an important reminder of how small the world is, that we are one big family, and that we all arrive with one wish: to be happy and to live in peace.”

  When all the children had finished eating the fruit, one of the boys shouted eagerly, “Lani, tell us about the legend!”