Ohana

by Dustin Stevens

  Dyson started to respond, but was cut off by Mahana, who cleared her throat but said nothing, smiling expectantly.

  The noise lifted the girl's eyes to focus on them, a toothy grin spreading across her face. "Oh, hey Mahana! I'm sorry, I didn't see you come in."

  "Good morning Li," Mahana responded. "Is it still okay if we look around this morning?"

  "Oh yeah, for sure," Li said, waving them on by. "There'll be staff doing some cleaning and renovations in various places, but just go around them. If they ask, tell them I gave you permission to be here."

  "Thank you so much," Mahana said, picking up her bag from the front counter and heading on inside. "We'll stop by on our way out. I have so much to tell you!"

  The girl gave Dyson an apprising look and wagged her fingers back at Mahana. "You'd better! I haven't seen you in ages."

  Mahana turned and waved again, Dyson jogging to catch up with her. As he went he could feel Li's eyes on his back, but managed to keep himself from turning around.

  "Is there anybody on this island that doesn't owe you a favor?" Dyson asked, following Mahana outside onto a grassy expanse. Around it were arranged a half-dozen different buildings, all with large signs announcing them to be halls of various fields of study.

  "I work as a concierge in a decent sized hotel," Mahana replied. "These places livelihoods depend on knowing people like me."

  "A setup that works out pretty well for you too it would seem," Dyson said.

  "So, where should we start?" Mahana asked, waving a hand around the courtyard at the bevy of options.

  Glancing at the sun already beginning its upward ascent, Dyson said, "It would appear we have two options. Given that the morning is well under way, we can pick a couple of things and see them really well or we can take the speedy approach and glance at everything."

  "Your preference?" Mahana asked.

  "Well, as I was so reminded just a little while ago, you are the tour guide here.”

  Mahana shot him a murderous look, but said nothing.

  "But if forced to make a decision, I would say I am here and have no idea when or if I might ever make it back."

  A thin smile traced Mahana's face. "So see it all?"

  "If you think you can keep up."

  "It's on haole," Mahana challenged, cutting a course straight across the grass toward the far building. In quick order they toured exhibits on the volcanic formation of the islands, the fauna found there, and the native animal species.

  Without delay they stepped outside and into the next building. There, they found displays on the various cultures in the state and the time frames they came to be there, starting with the Native Hawaiians hundreds of years prior and moving forward through the massive Asian and Caucasian influences that persist today.

  By mid-morning they were onto the main hall, learning about the Native Hawaiian culture and the royal lineage that still existed. Mahana spent a considerable amount of time fawning over the floral fashions of native women while Dyson moved on to native fishing techniques and examining the full scale whale skeleton that hung from the ceiling.

  The few people that were around paid them little heed as they passed, working on their tasks at hand, focused on finishing as quickly as possible.

  Shortly after eleven, they left the main hall and hit the final exhibit of the museum housing the Hawaii sports hall of fame. Comprised of a long hallway covered in oversized posters of athletes past, their accomplishment detailed beneath them, the hall traced back over a hundred years of athletics in the state.

  Slowly Dyson stepped through the hallway, his eyes scanning the names as he went. A handful he recognized from professional football, a few more from watching Olympic swimming and diving over the years.

  "This is the part you've been waiting all morning for, right?" Mahana asked, watching him scan the walls beside her.

  "I'm really coming to regret mentioning I played football."

  "You didn't," Mahana corrected. "Paul asked. You didn't mention anything."

  Dyson considered the statement, raising his eyebrows. "Alright, I majored in biological anthropology in undergrad. Evolution from a scientific standpoint. Archeology, DNA work, all of it.

  "This hall, while kind of neat to pick out the people I've seen before, is actually the least favorite thing I've seen all morning."

  Mahana pursed her lips and bobbed her head, accepting the unprovoked information. "And what did you want to be when you grew up with that biological anthropology degree?"

  Dyson's eyes continued to sweep the walls in front of him, doing a quick glance over the biography of Jesse Sapolu, an offensive lineman that spent fourteen seasons with the San Francisco 49ers.

  "I'm currently in my first year of pharmacy school.”

  "Wow," Mahana muttered, casting sideways glances at him as they continued down the hall. "Dr. Dyson...impressive."

  Dyson blanched slightly at the statement. "How about you? Concierge business today, hotel management tomorrow?"

  "God no," Mahana shot back. "I mean, I like my job and love the people I work with, but have no desire to be there even another five years, let alone the rest of my life."

  "So then, where to next?"

  "I don't know," Mahana said, sighing. She folded her arms across herself and stared off into space, her eyes focused on nothing. "You ever have that feeling where you end up on a path out of circumstance, then just kind of stay there for whatever reason?"

  Dyson's head shot away from the biography he was reading, his eyes boring into Mahana's. For a long moment neither said anything.

  "More than you know."

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  "Why hello, Mr. Dyson," Connie said, waving to Dyson and Mahana as they crossed over the main lobby and headed towards the front desk.

  "I think she means Dr. Dyson," Mahana whispered under her breath towards him.

  "Don't you dare," Dyson whispered back, throwing his own hand in the air. "Hello hello Miss Connie. Mele Kali...kimaka?"

  "That's right!" Connie said cheerfully. "Well done. And a Mele Kalikimaka to you as well."

  "Big plans for the holiday?”

  "Oh, the usual. I have some family in from the mainland, so we'll make a bunch of food, sit around and talk story. Open gifts tomorrow. How about you?"

  "Nothing on the agenda," Dyson said. "Hawaii Bowl here in just a few minutes, wide open after that."

  "Getting rid of me already huh?" Mahana asked, feigning to be hurt. "Find a better tour guide did you?"

  Without looking over at her, Dyson regarded Connie and said, "Allow me to rephrase. I'm not sure what my plans are, but I'm sure I have them and they're fantastic."

  "Much better," Mahana said. She lifted her canvas bag in front of her and said, "I have to go get ready for work. See you tonight after the game?"

  "Sure," Dyson said. "I told Ola and Rider I'd bring the boys back to the beach as soon as the game's over. See you out there?"

  "Sounds good," Mahana said, disappearing behind the counter to head for the employee's locker room.

  "You know, I almost didn't recognize you when you walked up," Connie said.

  Dyson cringed, waiting for some commentary on seeing him and Mahana together, but instead Connie motioned towards his face. "The swelling looks to be almost gone. Another day or so and the bruise will have faded away too."

  Dyson reached up and touched above his left temple. He hadn't paid much attention to it as he left that morning, though he now noticed it no longer hurt to the touch. "Mahana said yesterday that salt water was good for healing. There must be something to it I guess."

  "Yeah, I'm sure that's what it was," Connie said, smiling conspiratorially at him.

  There was the bard he was expecting earlier.

  Pretending to look around the lobby, he let it pass without comment. "You guys been busy today?"

  "Not really," Connie said, smiling at his change of direction. "More than you'd think for Christmas Eve, but still nothing I wou
ld call busy."

  "Lot of people come here for the holidays I take it?"

  "Oh yeah. See a lot of families come out here. Grandparents that don't have big houses anymore bring the whole family out, that kind of thing."

  Dyson looked around at the Cooke Pine Christmas trees and the decorations strung about, then past them to the sun shining outside. "I guess if it's what you're used to, this is Christmas. For me though, it just seems like another summer day."

  "I hear you," Connie said, shaking her head. "I'm originally from outside Seattle, where we used to get buried with snow every winter. I've been here twenty years now, and it still feels a little weird to me."

  "Seattle," Dyson said, smiling softly. "Spent more than my share of weekends over there. Good times. What brought you out here?"

  "The usual. Came out for school, met a guy, never left." She rattled off the answer as if she'd given it a thousand times, her voice equal parts wistful and resignation.

  "There are worse places in the world to land, that's for sure."

  "How about you?" Connie asked. "Hawaii growing on you yet? Seeing any reasons to stick around?" As she asked, the same mischievous smile appeared on her face.

  Dyson stared at her for a moment as the smile gave way to schoolgirl giggling.

  "Subtle," Dyson said, his own face relaying bemusement.

  "Hey, you two have been spending an awful lot of time together."

  "Not like that," Dyson said. "She's a fantastic girl, but she’s just playing tour guide for me."

  Connie made a slight pouting face. "Huh. Well, if nothing else it's nice to see you both out and about, looking happy. That first day you were here, you looked miserable. Lord knows I haven't seen Mahana smile this much in years."

  Dyson stopped his scan of the lobby mid-glance, turning his attention back to Connie. "What do you mean?"

  A cloud passed over Connie's face and for a moment she looked like she might be sick. "She hasn't told you?"

  Dyson shook his head from side to side. "We actually haven't talked a lot about personal stuff. We each kind of respect the boundaries I guess."

  Connie leaned back away from the counter and checked the door behind her, making sure they were alone. Returning to the counter she leaned in close and said, "Have you wondered at all how Mahana has so much free time to spend with you? On Christmas?"

  The question came from left field, hitting Dyson square. The truth was, while he had many times wondered about her going out of her way to show him around, the fact that he was monopolizing her holiday hadn't dawned on him.

  "No, I guess I haven't.”

  "It's because she's an orphan," Connie whispered. "Well, orphaned anyway."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Poor girl never really knew her mother. Car accident years ago. After that it was just her and her dad.

  "Growing up she was a heck of an athlete. Won the paddleboard race from Molokai to Oahu, was all set to play volleyball for UH, everything."

  Connie paused for a moment, swinging her head in a slight twist. "Just before she graduated high school, her dad got sick. Really sick. Poor girl turned down her scholarship, enrolled in night classes, started working here and taking care of him."

  Dyson pushed a small whistle out through his teeth, so many of Mahana's actions and comments of the last few days starting to take fuzzy shape in his mind.

  "About a year and a half ago, he passed," Connie continued. "As you can expect, she took it hard. Really withdrew into herself. All of us here, all of her friends, have made an effort to reach out to her, but she picks and chooses her moments these days. You're the first person I've seen her take a liking to since he died."

  "Kindred spirits," Dyson whispered, his face blank as he stared back at Connie.

  "The only reason I'm telling you this now is because it's Christmas and I'm tired of seeing that girl so melancholy. Whatever it is you're doing to help her along, please keep doing it."

  Without having a chance to answer, a chorus of voices rang out behind him.

  "Uncle Dyson! Hawaii Bowl!" the young boys chanted in unison, their youthful exuberance filling the lobby.

  Connie looked past him to the boys bedecked in Hawaii Warrior green and smiled. "Apparently she's not the only one you're having a positive effect on. I do believe you're being summoned."

  Offering a partial smile, Dyson nodded and pushed himself back away from the counter. Turning on his heel he plastered an excited look across his face and spread his arms out wide by his sides. "Who's ready for some football?"

  "Yaaay!" all four boys cheered in unison, Matt and Nainoa both bouncing up and down in place. One by one the boys gave him a high five as he approached, followed by Ola who stepped forward and gave him a hug.

  From behind the counter, Mahana and Connie both watched the scene unfold, neither making any attempt to hide the smiles on their face.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The valet brought Dyson's rental car around to the front curb, complete with clear plastic stretched tight across the rear driver's side window. He made a quick trip to Wal-Mart the night before for the plastic and some packing tape, running over as soon as Mahana dropped him off.

  What began as a quick project extended over two hours as he painstakingly went over the interior of the car, removing every last shard of glass. Returning the car was a conversation he still wasn't looking forward to, though at the moment he didn't quite care.

  An intense debate broke out between the boys as they piled in, Koi eventually winning the front seat while the other three stretched across the back. All four wore Hawaii football t-shirts and shorts, their excitement palpable.

  From the front Dyson checked the map to make sure he remembered the way and eased the car into traffic, fielding questions about what happened to his window as they went. The boys all laughed as he told the story of finding people digging through his car, quieting down and acting concerned when he pointed out the bruise on his face.

  Taking the opportunity to pose as his own public service announcement, he scolded the boys on the downside of fighting and got four solemn nods in return.

  There was no traffic out of town as Dyson kept the car close to the shore, navigating by the few familiar landmarks he had. To his left the airport sat silent in the midday heat, Pearl Harbor doing the same just a few miles beyond.

  Turning on the radio, Dyson found the one country station and set it to playing, the boys making faces and jeering as he sang along. The more they booed the louder he sang, amplifying a country lilt in his voice that brought the entire car to laughter.

  Following the signs towards Aloha Stadium, Dyson merged with a small trickle of traffic headed towards the game. His face filled with surprise as he found himself in a line a half dozen cars deep, paying the man at the front gate and driving to within a stone's throw of the stadium. Angling around the backside of the structure, he slid the car into a spot on the third row, marveling at their good luck.

  "Come on guys, we've got to go get tickets," Dyson said, herding the boys around to the south end of the stadium. There he got in a line three deep for the ticket window, watching as the boys played on a grass patch a few feet away. A smile grew on his face as he watched the boys tumbling about, completely oblivious to anybody around them.

  "Hey, you need tickets?" a voice asked in his ear.

  Turning around Dyson found himself face-to-face with a shirtless guy in his mid-twenties. Despite the odd hour, the guy already smelled of booze and his rounded chest and stomach had a thin veneer of sweat and suntan lotion splashed across it.

  "Yeah, but I need five," Dyson said, looking past the man's mirrored sunglasses to make sure all four boys were still playing on the grass.

  "No problem," the young man said, pulling a stack of tickets at least an inch thick from the side pocket of his board shorts. "Since you here with the keiki, I give ‘em to you ten apiece. Cool?"

  "Excellent," Dyson said, peeling the cash out of his wallet and
handing it over. The man accepted the money, gave him a nod, and went on his way without another word, already looking for his next sale.

  "Alright guys, let's go watch some football!" Dyson said, swinging his arm forward towards the front gate ahead.

  In unison the boys untangled themselves from the ground, rushing forward in a blur of elbows, knees and green t-shirts. Already he could see dirt smudges and grass stains on the boy's forearms and could only hope Ola would overlook it.

  Falling in on either side of him, the fivesome headed for the front gate, the group spread like geese flying in formation. One by one Dyson doled the tickets out amongst the group, the boy's faces lighting up with pleasure as they gripped the tickets in front of them and presented them to the man at the gate.

  "First time?" the ticket taker asked, an aged Chinese man with a bald head and polo buttoned clear to the neck.

  "For all of us," Dyson said, nodding his thanks to the man and jogging forward to keep up with the boys. Already they were weaving their way through the thin crowd of the concourse, pushing forward to get their first glimpse of the field within.

  Muttering a series of apologies, Dyson did his best to keep pace, finding the boys standing four across along the mezzanine walkway. They stood with their hands looped over the railing in front of them, their eyes wide as they took it all in.

  The artificial turf of the playing surface spread out bright green on the floor of the stadium, freshly painted insignias at midfield and the end zones announcing the Hawaii Bowl for spectators. Bleachers pushed in tight from every direction, extending almost straight up in gaudy shades of orange, blue and red. A few players on either side dotted the field, practicing kicks and punts while the scoreboard above counted down the last few minutes to kickoff.

  Throngs of fans were bunched tight behind either sideline, thinning out considerably the further away one got from the player's benches. The entire top deck and either end zone were almost empty, despite the game set to begin any minute.