“Excuse me,” I say, and the janitor looks up at me and mumbles.
As I go into the stall to change, I realize that the janitor kind of looks like Mr. Tempo. I only got one quick look at his face, though. But I’ve definitely never seen this janitor around Sands before.
I get changed quickly and the janitor is already wheeling his bucket down the hallway. That’s when I get a look at his hands. He’s wearing green gloves! It is Mr. Tempo! No way!
I rush back into the library and tell Ms. Tremt about him.
“I have a feeling this isn’t the last you’ll see of Mr. Tempo. You’re going to have to be extra careful on the trip,” Ms. Tremt says. “And if you want to back out now, I understand.”
“It’s okay, Maria,” I say. “You don’t have to join me. I understand.”
Maria shoves me so hard the straw hat falls off my head.
“Shut up, Kai,” she says. “I didn’t put on this silly outfit just to go home. And I love a good mystery! So who is this guy, anyway?”
Ms. Tremt explains that Mr. Tempo, aka new janitor guy aka substitute math teacher, also known as Tim Raveltere, is a fellow time traveler.
“He’s dead set on getting The Book of Memories,” Ms. Tremt explains.
“And that’s a bad thing?” I ask.
“Very bad,” Ms. Tremt says. “If he sees you with the book, he’ll try anything to take it from you, and if he gets his hands on it, he’s going to use it for nefarious purposes.”
“We’d better make sure he doesn’t get it,” Maria says. “Let’s go now.”
“Wait a minute,” I say to her. “You were totally worried when you thought we were just going to take a nice little trip back into the past. Now you’re dying to go when we find out there’s actually some real danger involved?”
“Pretty much,” Maria says. “You got a problem with that?”
“Not at all.” I laugh. “I like the way you think! What are we waiting for?”
Ms. Tremt takes out her fountain pen again, removes the card, and writes Oahu Sugar Company Plantation, Waipahu, Hawaii, on the card.
“Did you have a specific date in the year 1900 in mind?” Ms. Tremt asks me.
“Well, according to her diary, Akemi seemed like she was the most homesick right around her birthday,” I say. “So maybe November 17, 1900, would be a good day.”
“Perfect,” Ms. Tremt says as she writes the date on the card.
Once The Book of Memories is activated, a scene that looks like it could be on the front of a postcard appears before us. There are long stretches of sugarcane fields and rows of triangle-shaped thatched-roof huts at the plantation.
It’s the colors, though, that are incredible. In the scene before us, we see bright green fields and rows and rows of palm trees, and golden sand on the beach. And that’s nothing compared to the color of the water. It’s dark blue and turquoise, and I just want to jump in it right now.
“Can we?” Maria asks.
“Can we what?” I ask back.
“Can we jump in it first?” she asks.
“Did I say that out loud?” I ask, a little startled.
“You did.” Maria and Ms. Tremt laugh.
“Okay, then let’s hit the beach first,” I say. “And then we’ll look for Akemi.”
Maria takes my hand again and we step into the book together.
Here’s the thing Ms. Tremt forgot to tell me. Once we’ve completely stepped into the past, the classroom disappears behind us, and suddenly I’m left holding The Book of Memories, now pocket-size. Which would be fine, except that before I can even appreciate the view, a hand grabs the book and starts to snatch it from me.
“Mr. Tempo!” Maria shouts.
I look up and see that she’s correct. The hand that is holding on to the book is covered in a green glove, and Mr. Tempo—Tim Raveltere, really—is using his watch to activate a whole different kind of portal. All I can see inside the portal is a dark laboratory filled with different time-keeping devices from throughout history, like sundials, hourglasses, and pocket watches.
I don’t want to break The Book of Memories. (Is that even possible? I don’t want to find out.) I’m trying to decide whether to just pull the book as hard as I can and hope for the best when Maria jumps on Tim’s back and puts her hands over his eyes.
It’s the perfect move, because he automatically reaches up to pull her hands off, and when he does, he lets go of the book. I start running down the beach but then I’m grabbed by Tim, who still has Maria attached to his back. Right next to us a portal appears in the sand. This portal is definitely Tim’s doing and not from The Book of Memories. It looks like it might be a gladiator scene from ancient Rome, and I definitely don’t want to go there!
Maria pulls Tim’s hair, and I roll away from the portal. Then I see another portal pop up next to Maria—is that a Yeti?!?—and Tim’s just about to toss her off his back and into it.
“NOOOO!!!” I yell as I run to Maria.
I grab her and try to swing us both over the portal. Sand flies everywhere as I land and trip and roll over into the water. I can’t see anything because my eyes are full of sand, but for a second it seems like my move worked. We’re definitely not in some different time period, but somehow we’ve landed in the middle of the ocean. There’s no land in sight. So we avoided going through the portal, but I think somehow we brushed up against it and it bounced us out to sea.
“You wanted danger?” I gasp.
“Come on, that was pretty awesome,” Maria says breathlessly. “Did you see me totally take out Mr. Tempo?”
“You mean Tim the Time Traveling Terror?” I correct her. “Yeah, I caught that.”
So I’m treading water, which is difficult to do because Maria is leaning on my shoulder so she can hold The Book of Memories over her head. We don’t know if it’s okay for the book to get wet or not. I do know that it’s okay for Maria to be holding on to my shoulder, though. I take one of Ms. Tremt’s scarves out of my pocket and, surprisingly, it’s bone dry. I wrap the book in it for protection. If the scarves are really as magical as Ms. Tremt claims they are, hopefully it will keep the book safe from danger . . . and water.
“I think we should go that way,” Maria says, using the book to point off into the distance to the right of us. “I don’t think we went back in time. I didn’t get the same feeling as when we walked through the library portal. So I think we just got tossed a little farther by the power of the portal.”
“I agree,” I tell Maria. “With the whole portal thing. But not with the direction. Because I feel like we rolled left.”
“Definitely not, Kai,” Maria huffs. “It was a right roll. I’m sure.”
“I don’t always have to be right,” I say. “I’d admit it if I didn’t know. But it was left.”
“Kai!” Maria yells.
“What?” I yell back.
“What’s that sound?” she asks.
“How can I tell when you’re yelling?” I laugh.
We both shut up and listen to a sound of rhythmic splashing. Together, we turn slowly around in place. That’s when we see them. Far off in the distance, two people are paddling on surfboards. There’s hope!
“HEY!” I scream. “OVER HERE!”
“YO!” Maria calls out.
“Yo?” I laugh. “Is that your idea of Hawaiian slang?”
Maria pushes against me and we both start yelling whatever silly thing comes to mind.
“HEY, PLAYERS!” Maria shouts.
“HOLLA!” I roar.
“WHAT’S UP, WHAT’S UP, WHAT’S UP???” Maria yells.
We hope they’ll hear us. But if we’re left stranded out here, at least we can make each other laugh.
Our bigmouth shouting works, and once the paddlers get closer, we can tell that it’s a boy and a girl.
“How did you get all the way out here?” the girl calls to us. “And what do you have wrapped up in that scarf?”
“We were . . . um . . . fl
oating on a raft,” Maria stammers.
“Yeah . . . um . . . reading together,” I add, trying to help Maria think quickly.
“And then the raft sank.” Maria sighs. “So, here we are. I’m glad you spotted us.”
“Your raft sank?” the boy wonders, looking around for signs of it. “I never heard of that happening before.”
“I know,” I say. “I’ve got a lot to learn about raft building.”
“He really does,” Maria agrees.
I splash Maria in response to her comment.
“You know, it would be great to get some help back to the beach,” I suggest.
“Of course!” the girl replies. “I’m sorry. I’m Leilani, and this is my brother, Tua. Aloha!”
“Aloha,” Maria says. “I’m Maria, and this is Kai. Nice to meet you.”
Leilani starts to chuckle.
“Your parents chose the perfect name, Kai,” she says. “In Hawaiian, Kai means ‘from the sea.’ Is your mom’s name Nāmaka?”
“Close. It’s Tomoko,” I say, confused.
Tua helps his sister onto his surfboard.
“She’s just teasing you, Kai,” he explains. “Nāmaka is the Hawaiian sea goddess.”
“Got it,” I say. I hold the book while Maria climbs on to Leilani’s board, then I give it to her while I climb up behind her. We’re a little shaky at first, and it’s hard to keep up with Leilani and Tua, who seem to be expert surfers.
“You know, I’ve always wanted to try surfing,” Maria confesses.
“Me too,” I agree. “This is great. I could paddle out here all day.”
I’m not so worried about how far ahead Leilani and Tua are, because it’s kind of like Maria and I are paddling on our own little island. Until I see the fin. That’s right—a fin!
I know Maria likes danger, but I don’t want her to panic. My dad made me watch Jaws, so I know the worst thing you can do is start flapping your legs around in the water. It’s like turning yourself into shark bait.
I tap Maria and bring my legs carefully up onto the board.
“Legs up,” I say calmly to her.
“Is this some kind of surf lesson?” she asks.
“No,” I say, pointing to the fin. “Don’t panic, but this is because of . . . that.”
“A shark!” Maria gasps. “Are you kidding me? Now what do we do?”
We try to stay as still as we can while we wave our arms in the air, hoping Leilani and Tua will see us. Leilani turns around and smiles back at us and shakes her head. Tua points off in the opposite direction. We have no idea what they’re trying to tell us, until we turn around and see the huge wave that is heading right for us.
Fin . . . wave . . . wave . . . fin. It’s an impossible choice. Maria and I just hang on to each other and close our eyes, and when the wave hits, we’re swept off the board and are floating in the water again. So is the fin.
“Not a bad first surfing attempt.” Tua laughs as he paddles over to us.
I have no idea why he’s laughing, because again . . . fin!
Leilani hops off the board and starts to swim toward us.
“Leilani!” I cry. “What are you doing?”
“Look out for the fin!” Maria adds, sounding panicked.
“You two are funny.” Leilani giggles. “You’re scared of a dolphin?”
Leilani swims right toward the fin and pats it. A dolphin raises its head up above the surface of the water, like it’s saying hello to an old friend, then dives back down and disappears.
“Yeah, dolphin, I knew that,” I bluff.
We get back on our boards and paddle to land. After we finally crawl onto the sand, Maria and I just lie on the beach panting. Paddling is hard work! Then I remember The Book of Memories. I panic and frantically look around until Maria taps my shoulder and holds it up. “It’s perfectly fine,” she says. That scarf really did the trick.
I check out the book. It’s completely dry, as is the scarf, even though they were both just in the ocean. Pretty cool. And amazing.
“You two could really use a surfing lesson,” Tua says. “We would have been back to the beach a lot faster!”
“Only if it’s a quick one,” I say. “We’ve got to meet my aunt—I mean my cousin—in a little while.”
Maria and I get on the boards and Tua demonstrates in the sand. Of course the lesson starts with more paddling, which is pretty much the last thing I feel like doing right now. He shows us how to push up from paddling position, flat on your stomach on the board, to surf stance.
“Don’t get on your knees,” Tua tells me. “It looks easier, but you’ll start too slow then.”
“Okay,” I say.
It’s not so hard, on the sand.
“And don’t spread your legs too far,” Leilani says. “It might feel better, but you’ll have more control with your feet closer together.”
Maria and I practice pushing up from the boards a few times.
“I’m ready,” I say. “Let’s try it out.”
“Sure you are.” Tua laughs.
He takes us out one at a time. We walk out into the water until we’re waist deep. Tua points to a spot where the waves are breaking and tells me to paddle out there.
I sit on the board and wait for the right wave. When I see one, I paddle over to catch it and then push up on my board.
I get to stand for exactly two seconds on the board, and then I’m flailing around in the water again.
When it’s Maria’s turn, she makes it a full five seconds before she falls off.
“Show-off!” I call to her when she gets back to the beach.
“Just admit I’m better all around.” Maria laughs.
“Okay, you’re better,” I agree. “But not all around. I’m still the king of comedy.”
“I’ll give you that.” Maria laughs. “But we’d better get going. Three hours, right?”
Leilani knows exactly where the Oahu Sugar Company Plantation is, and luckily it’s just down the road from the beach, so we don’t have to waste a lot of time getting there. We say “aloha” to the Leilani and Tua—it means “good-bye,” too—and head down the road.
We meet some workers along the way and I ask them if they know Akemi Takahashi. It takes a few minutes, but we find Akemi’s home and I can hardly believe my eyes.
I knew, from reading her journal, that Akemi was really sad. Homesick and all alone, working long and hard every day. I just had no idea how tough her life was too. Even though she wrote about her life and described her home in detail, I still didn’t picture it like this. I’m a kid who lives in a nice house, with a room of my own that is way bigger than this little hut. I have a big, comfy bed, my own computer, pretty much all the sports equipment I’ll ever need.
Akemi has almost nothing. There’s a flat mat on the floor and a wooden chair and a small, low table on one side of the room. Her journal is sitting on the table. There’s a small trunk on the other side of the room. And that’s it. It’s dark and colorless. It feels like a different world from the beautiful place right outside the door.
“No wonder she writes so much about the outside world,” Maria says. “I’d want to forget my life in here too. So depressing.”
We head back out into the field and start to check out the plantation. Luckily it’s hot enough that our clothes dry out a bit, and since all the workers are drenched with sweat anyway, we look like we fit right in. Maria and I find some hoes near a shed, and we pick them up and pretend to be digging the ground as we go.
We ask about Akemi as we work, and it doesn’t take too long for us to find her. She’s shy, and a hard worker, keeping her eyes to the ground the whole time. Maria and I work our way around so that we’re digging on either side of her.
“Konnichiwa,” I say to Akemi as I hold my hoe to the side and bow.
She glances up at me and bows her head.
This is going to be tough. It will probably just be easier to talk to Maria so Akemi can see how friendly we are.<
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“Hey, Maria,” I say. “What did the pineapple tree say to the farmer?”
“I don’t know, Kai, what?” Maria says.
“Stop picking on me!” I joke.
Maria starts to giggle. Akemi just keeps digging.
“Why shouldn’t you tell secrets on a farm?”
“Why?” Maria asks.
“Because the potatoes have eyes and the corn has ears.”
Maria groans. Akemi keeps on digging.
“Knock-knock,” Maria says.
“Who’s there?” I ask.
“Farmer,” Maria replies.
“Famer who?”
“Farmer birthday, I would like a nice big cake.” Maria giggles.
I groan. Akemi starts to giggle. Progress!
Maria is pretty good at making up jokes. This one was just as corny as the ones I made up. Maybe I could hire her to write jokes for me? Something else for me to think about.
Maria and I don’t want to scare off Akemi, so we work quietly next to her for a while.
“How long have you been here?” Maria asks.
“Eight months,” Akemi says. “I arrived last March.”
“Do you think you’ll stay long?” I ask.
Of course, I know the answer. Akemi will never go back to Japan. She’ll get married and stay in Hawaii for the rest of her life.
“Possibly another year or two,” she says. “I’m sending almost all my money to my family back home. When they have enough, I will return.”
“What about you?” Akemi asks Maria. “Do you have family?”
Maria looks at me as if to say, Great, what am I supposed to say now? Judging from her answer, I guess she agrees with me that honesty is the best policy. Without giving too much away, of course.
“I live with my mom and dad and my two older brothers,” Maria says.
“And you?” Akemi asks me.
“Same,” I say. “Except for the big brothers. I have a big sister.”
“Yumi’s awesome,” Maria says out of the blue.
“Why would you say that?” I ask.
“She always looks so well put-together, and she’s so talented,” Maria says. “I’ve always looked up to her. Even though we don’t really know each other.”
Hang Ten for Dear Life! Page 4