Star quickly glanced over. “We're going to Hilo, to get your abortion.” Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel as she said it.
Janet seemed to take a moment to put that into some frame of mind that made sense. Suddenly, she looked down at her belly, put her hands there and began a slow wailing. After a few seconds she began short yelps, almost barking and then just good old screaming.
“Goddammit Jimmie, shut up! I found you on the side of the damn road, and I'll kick your ass out on the damn road again if you don't shut the hell up!” Star had already been at her wits end when she'd convinced herself to drive Janet to Hilo. Add a little crazy from the passenger seat and it became overwhelming.
Janet did shut up, except for the low moaning she continued to make as she now rocked back and forth in the front seat.
Poor Poho was not yet awake, I couldn't roust him yet. The anesthesia must have worked him over good. How could I warn him? How could I do anything about it?
Star passed the airport and turned left toward town, crossed the bridge just beyond tsunami park and turned left up Pauahi Street. Soon she took a right and then another left and pulled up into the parking area of an old two story house, with a view of the harbor and beyond, the ocean.
The sign outside said simply “Dr. Zhung, OB GYN”. Star pulled up under the large canopy of an avocado tree that must have been as big as the house all by itself. One other car was just pulling out, leaving them to choose from any of the parking spots.
“Poho! Poho!” I screamed with my voice, silent as it was. This place looked like death, especially with the small metal chimney rising from the back of the building. I watched as Star got out of the car, leaving Janet inside. She walked up to the building, opened the door and disappeared.
Moving closer to Janet now, alone in the car, I could still hear only the static. Her mind was in a turmoil of chaos, hiding any chance I might have of hearing my Poho boy.
Her head was back against the head rest, her eyes closed tightly and she had both hands against her stomach. Breath came to her deeply, her skin taking back a little color as I watched. In a moment her hands relaxed, one of them falling to her side onto the car seat.
It was there, in the shade of the massive avocado tree, brilliant sunshine painting the tropical sky just beyond, that I think I finally got through her static storm. My focus had been improving constantly as time went on, probably with all that practice talking to Poho.
Several mynah birds began squawking in the tree branches just above us. It might have been their racket that brought her up and out of the pit of static. It might have been me, trying to reach her, but in any case I felt her begin to listen, tentatively.
As she opened to me, a flood of fear and sadness poured out of her. It was amazing that so much could fit inside of one soul. Tears filled her eyes from behind her closed lids, pushing their way out at the corners. Her brow furrowed deeply as she squeezed her eyes harder. She was still a young, very young woman, confused by forces outside her control.
Surrounding all of that was a weak request for help, for peace. Her deep subconscious was a well of clear thought now bubbling through the static, pleading with whatever forces, whatever miracles might help her.
It felt to me like she was praying. Each tear finding its way out as another supplication. I listened intently, drawing her out with a compassion and empathy, with a love that came from beyond even me.
The sky around me was filled with light now, the same light I had been watching get closer for some time now. It was so very close. Then, in a moment of intuition it became clear to me that I was certainly not James Madison Turner anymore, but an extension of that light descending ever closer. It reminded me of a lava lamp, where I was a distinct glob separate from the mass but the same stuff, soon to return, and probably soon to move out again.
The lava analogy wasn't lost on me, though, and that brought me back to Janet. Her heart was open, floating on an underlying sea of static that was trying to swallow this rare moment of lucidity.
I found myself expressing to her, to her very soul, that which I had already felt earlier, but which I now seemed to communicate from the larger light moving so close to me. My role felt as that of a messenger, but as one who intimately understood the message, had helped fashion it.
I moved closer even as I could sense the static rising again, threatening to overwhelm her moment of prayer and hope. I spoke to her clearly, feeling her grasp at the words, at the answer, as she began to drown again in the rising static.
I spoke to her from the light itself. Her mind ravenously grasped at the message as it slowly sank back into the depths.
“You, Janet, are loved by it all, and so you are forgiven, in advance.”
As she sank away, I heard a new voice.
Poho was awake.
~~~
The electric start fired quickly and only once to get the large fan spinning behind Larry. Immediately, his wing, a skydiver type of parafoil, began filling with the forced air and lifting slightly up off the ground.
Launches are always a critical part of flight, and this was certainly the case with a paraglider, but even more so in an ever thickening cloud fog. Larry could see, faintly, the edge of the Ohia forest marking the boundary of his launch area, toward the Volcano Vineyard. Unless he had a mechanical failure, this would be flight # 3,376.
Quickly but perfectly going over his checklist he double checked his fuel readings, looked behind him to insure the parafoil was off the ground, and slowly pushed the throttle forward one third.
The engine behind him didn't so much roar as hum with a power that indicated flight was inevitable. Larry took a moment to confirm all was well as he moved the throttle to full take off power.
The parafoil wing behind him immediately fully inflated as he began rolling forward quickly. He only need 25 knots of headwind to generate enough lift to get off the ground. That took about two seconds with this engine and off he went, letting that little tug of gravity go silently and without any remorse. It would be waiting for him later.
Still fully engaged in safely getting off the ground, he watched the approaching Ohia trees. If his engine failed he could still land straight ahead without much danger. However, there was a point, very soon in fact, where that opportunity would evolve to one that required an emergency landing spot. Without much altitude he would have to rely on a special combination of skill and luck.
After just one minute of flight he reached that point where it was safer to continue rather than abort. Things looked good. His altimeter and compass had now joined his best friend list, along with the wing and the engine. With this group he continued up through the fog to break through into brilliant sunshine only 150 feet above the ground.
Jack was already calling him. Larry moved his thumb over to the control stick panel to answer the cell phone call inside his integrated helmet. Built in were his Bluetooth paired phone, an iPod that had more music than he had fuel to enjoy, an aviation radio for talking to Hilo tower or Air Traffic Control and a direct walkie talkie link to Jack as well as Shirley at home. Another walkie talkie unit was in their four wheel drive. However, with all that he still hadn't figured out how to install caller ID.
“Hello!”
“How's it look up there?” Jack asked, with an obvious touch of jealousy.
“Clear sailing! I'm well above the layer of cloud now. The entire area is blanketed, but as I turn toward the west southwest I can see a white plume of steam or ash popping through.”
It was quiet a moment as Jack considered the weather issues.
“Are you going to be able to find the target area, Larry?”
Larry was still climbing in a slow circling corkscrew. It was getting chilly even as he was only 500 feet above the ground, but 4500 feet above the ocean. Glancing at his gauges quickly he saw 44 degrees outside air temperature, 42 kts forward speed and a climb rate of 150 ft per minute.
“I'm headed up to 6000 feet Jack. I'll call y
ou on the walkie talkie from there.”
“Roger that. We just had another little shake come through, about a 4 or so.”
Larry looked down at the spectacular vista below him, reached with his thumb to switch to the walkie talkie. Home was somewhere beneath the rolling white textures beneath him.
“E.T. Phoning home!” Larry called.
It took a few seconds for Shirley to answer. She was tending to her award winning Taro and 'Awa and had to clear the mud from her hands before answering. When Larry was airborne she kept the walkie talkie on her waist.
“Are there any more aliens with you, go ahead?” She looked up into the milky gray fog half expecting to at least hear his engine.
“Only me. Hey, Jack says you just had a little shake. Over.”
Shirley put down her tools and stood to get her water bottle. “Yes, a small little shiver in the ground. I think it actually helps aerate my garden, over.”
Larry was still in his climbing turn, now looking south toward the open ocean. “Listen Shirley, Jack says HVO might recommend an evacuation, over.”
Neither of them had ever had to in the twenty-two years they had lived in the village of Volcano. They were perched on a ridge a few hundred feet above Halema'uma'u. A thousand foot deep valley separated them from Mauna Loa, and they were miles from the sea and any tsunami. The only event that could realistically threaten them was a new vent opening up across the street, from a massive earthquake. Anything was possible, but everything was improbable. For now.
“When are they going to do that? Over.” Shirley asked. If there was one thing they were good at in Volcano it was avoiding false alarms.
“No idea. But they seem pretty excited over at HVO. I think they suspect some inflation along the ridge above Halema'uma'u, over.”
Shirley, Larry and practically every resident on the Big Island of Hawaii knew that “inflation” could only mean one thing. Lava. Magma was upwelling from the hotspot in the Earth's crust many miles below, pushing the landscape up in measurable amounts. Sometimes it deflated later. Sometimes it didn't. The real question, as always, was where it would exit. Currently there were three active areas, Halema'uma'u, Kilauea and a small vent near the sea. With those established pressure releases the odds were that one, or all of them would become more active. But, there was another option for the volcano.
What everyone dreaded was another Kapoho type event. There in 1960, when young Starshine Aloha and her parents were living the idyllic hippie dream of papayas and the beach, the unbelievable happened.
Deep within a five hundred year old jungle, rich in koa trees, native ferns and surrounding banana farms a series of small swarm earthquakes alerted HVO of magma movement. A few days later on January 13th, a crack opened up in the jungle floor. That same evening lava fountaining was reaching above tree height and within a week 900 foot lava geysers built a 160 foot tall cinder cone. All of this was feeding a carpet of devastation that engulfed an entire village, farms and the beaches. Dozens of acres of ocean were claimed by the island, extending the coastline outward.
Shirley was holding the walkie talkie up to her chest now, looking out at her garden, at the beautiful yard they had created out of weeds and non-native bushes. Uncertainty was, she knew, a reality of living next to an active lava pit on the side of the planet's most active volcano. Hawaiian volcanoes, though, were probably the most predictable of the bunch and were benign enough, for the most part, to allow humans to enjoy complimentary space around them. But the privilege came with precautions, and a precautionary evacuation was one she could live with. Lava would probably never overtake their home. Probably.
Larry had almost reached his first altitude step of 6000 feet. From there he could approach the climbing terrain uphill of Halema'uma'u safely. Shirley's silence told him she was upset by the news. No one ever wanted to evacuate their home. The world, Larry knew, was a volatile place. There was always something that could chase people away: tsunami could force beach dwellers to higher ground, as well as flooding rivers. Snow avalanches cleared out valleys, earthquakes knocked over buildings, fires ran Californians out of the hills. At least the sky was smooth and safe where he was.
“Shirley?” Larry whispered as best he could over the noise of his engine.
Shirley broke her focus and walked back inside her kitchen. “I'll put some things in the car, Larry.” A few moments of silence followed before she added “Over.”
“Great, listen, it's just precautionary. But, would you please put my 1945 Haut Bailly and some of my Bordeaux in the car first? Please? Over.”
Shirley rolled her eyes, but agreed. They would need wine.
Larry found his mark on the GPS and verified it with the steam plume behind him as he turned his paraglider on a heading of due north. The massive Mauna Loa loomed ahead, her white crown of snow glittering in the clear air.
Descending slightly to just above cloud level he opened the backpack Jack had given him, and set his timer to sync with his speed giving him a ground speed of 200 meters per minute.
He picked out the first sensor, held it over to the side and dropped it. This terrain was remote and extremely difficult to hike into, no one would be below. But, the birds and other creatures that lived there would no doubt find it strange to see florescent yellow balls falling from the sky in the middle of a foggy morning.
~~~
Poho was cooing quietly, waking up I suppose. I could now easily penetrate poor Janet's static field and communicate directly with my little boy. My entire being had that tingle I used to remember getting on my scalp when I felt ecstatic. My boy! Poho!
He laughed a little when he felt me there, then seemed to stretch and take a moment to move himself around. So cute! Could my heart get any bigger for him?
Star's return to the car quickly reminded me, though, that Poho was in mortal danger. Quickly, I tried to find Janet again, her lucid mind that I had touched a moment ago. I dove deeply into the static, leaving Poho behind for just a moment. There was nothing. I followed path after path of her thoughts, her emotions, but all I was finding were nightmares and horror.
“Jimmie,” Star was saying softly. Her hands were folded in her lap, her gaze out the window ahead. “I explained everything to them. Everything.” She looked over at Janet, still rocking slightly in her chair, eyes shut tight and moaning. “They said they classify this as a late term abortion.”
Janet continued rocking back and forth, oblivious by the looks of it to what Star was telling her. I had some hope that maybe she would back out of it, or even better that Dr. Zhung would refuse to do the procedure.
My optimistic nature, as I had always suspected, had very little connection with the darker sides of reality.
“They want $5000 before they'll agree to do it,” Star said softly, tears streaming down her cheeks. She watched her own hands shake with nervousness, one borne, no doubt, from the pain and suffering that was occurring. And, I thought, from that which might soon occur.
Janet kept rocking, clutching her stomach now and moaning. Star just watched her, for probably a full minute. Convinced Janet was too out of it to make a decision, she started the Tercel.
That's when Janet reached for and opened her door. I felt a darkness pouring from the car, and her. She stepped out and stood up straight, reached into her back pocket, pulled out a wallet and threw it onto the hood of the car.
Star just stared at it for a moment. Horrified. She wanted nothing to do with this, had hoped for a way out, but saw now that her commitment to another sister was assured.
Janet walked around the front of the car now. Her eyes searching Star's.
Star turned off the engine and reluctantly opened her door. She watched Janet closely as she reached into the wallet.
“Here,” Janet said. “This debit card has $20,000 on it.” She then turned and began a slow march up the dozen or so concrete steps.
My signing bonus for another enlistment! My money for signing up to send bad guys to th
e other side, and now it was going to be used to send my son there instead.
Star put the debit card back in the wallet and followed her up, leaving tears on every step behind Janet.
I moved to the top of the stairs and with all my will tried to keep them from going inside. My focus was as strong as I could manage, but there was, of course, nothing I could do physically. Star seemed to hesitate as I begged her to take the wallet and throw it away. She did stop at the top of the stairs and looked at it in her hand.
“Throw it away,” I repeated into her mind a million, billion times. I was probably breaking every rule in heaven by doing so, but no one was going to blame me, that I knew.
Her hands seemed to change grip, from one of carry to one of toss.
“Here, give me that!” Janet snatched it out of her hands. “Let's do this.” She turned back toward the door and walked right through me.
~~~
Agatha Turner had never flown on an airplane for this long. Four hours had been a record when she went to Miami once. Now, she was on a six hour marathon to Honolulu, with a plane change and then another hour to Hilo on the Big Island. She was intent on finding her boy James.
In her mind she replayed the good days. When he was just becoming a teenager and all the other kids were getting in some kind of trouble, her boy James was volunteering at the Boys and Girls Club. He kept his room clean and washed the car without being asked. He had never given her any trouble, in fact some of her friends made comments what an angel he was. Of course he was, she murmured to herself, of course, he was her son. James Madison, James Madison, she repeated over and over.
“Agatha dear,” Adam whispered. He could hear her repeating something. “What are you saying?”
The first class cabin on Hawaiian Air flight #19 was spacious but it was also quiet. Adam feared that Agatha's murmuring might disturb the other passengers.
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