by Mirren Hogan
“So we keep moving from your place to mine and not be predictable,” he reasoned slowly. “And we keep sightseeing, but in different . . . ” He stopped as the sound of a whistle came from his back pocket, interrupting his train of thought. Embarrassed, he pulled out his phone and frowned at the text message on the screen. “Or maybe we could go back to the karst and wait to be eaten.” He sighed.
“What? Who is it? A loan shark?” Makani wiped her eyes and quirked her lips to the side.
“What?” He looked up at her. “No, it’s worse than that. My sister Emma, her bogun husband and their three terrors are dropping in tomorrow on their way home from Disneyland.” He rubbed his brow with the palm of his hand. “Shit.”
“That’s all? What’s wrong with that?” Makani shrugged, while Elsie just shook her head. “So they’re coming to this rock, and it’s infested with imaginary ferocious critters. It’s not a big deal,” she said sarcastically.
Flynn grimaced. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t complain about my family after what you went through.” He hadn’t meant to detract from that at all, but the visit was a particularly unwelcome surprise.
“My three nieces are the biggest brats in any hemisphere. They’ll probably scare any manangaal or kappa all the way back to where they came from. Can we hide out at your place until they’re gone?” He sighed, knowing he’d have to see them, at least for a while. “Never mind fireworks, my landlady won’t want them around for long.” Thank goodness for small mercies.
“Hey, I bet your family hasn’t seen you in a while! They can’t be that bad.” Makani actually smiled, and turned to Flynn, “I know some easy ways to get the kids tired out. It’ll take our minds off, you know . . . I’ll be your buffer and free tour guide. And we won’t run into anything weird.”
“With them, you can’t make that promise. But you have my permission to feed them to whatever comes along.” There was a reason he hadn’t gone home for Christmas. Not that he didn’t like kids, or his family, but his brother-in-law and nieces just never seemed to know when enough was enough.
“That doesn’t mean I’m not taking up your offer, though,” he added. “If anyone can tame them, it’s you.”
“She has seven nieces and nephews. I’ve seen Maka take them all for the day, and return them to their parents passed out by dinner.” Elsie got up and took the empty bottles to the kitchen.
“The secret; feed them sugar early, bring cardboard boxes, and make sure you bring buckets.” Makani shrugged, as if it were the most logical thing in the world.
Flynn looked at her in confusion. “Cardboard boxes and buckets?”
“Just trust me. You’ll see.” She patted Flynn’s hand and nodded.
“Maybe we should go?” He glanced in the direction Elsie had gone. “It must be close to dinner time by now?”
“Yeah . . . yeah, let’s go before she insists we stay. She’ll probably start up the deniguan . . . that stuff is deadly!” She unfolded herself and stood up, “So . . . back to my place for the night? Or yours?”
“Yours if we’re mixing it up. But my place would be unpredictable. It depends how smart they are.” It didn’t seem like they’d get away from them, no matter where they went. “Are they more likely to turn up in a place where you’re more comfortable?” He remembered the pink thing in the kitchen. Either the answer was no, or she was comfortable at his little rental house.
“I dunno . . . I don’t think it matters. I just know they pop up after I sleep.” She leaned close to Flynn’s ear, “But, at least at my house, we can have noisy sex after ten.”
“Your place,” he replied immediately. “Maybe we can put some suk suk into practice.” He grinned, his dimple showing.
She bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Remind me not to teach you any more naughty words while you’re here. I’m a bad influence on you.” She went to the doorway that led to the kitchen, “Aunty, we’re going home. We’ll see you later, okay?”
Elsie turned from the sink, a pan of tripe in her hands. “But I was going to make stew! Are you sure you don’t want to stay?”
“Sounds good, but I don’t think Flynn can handle cow stomach. I’ll make sure we eat.” Makani kissed her on the cheek and went back to Flynn, grabbing his hand. “Come on, before she throws the tripe into the pot. It’s so gross!”
“It can’t be worse than cow brains.” He sniffed and grimaced. “On the other hand, maybe we should get pizza. Or what about some local food that I haven’t had, that won’t kill me.” If such a thing existed. Everything else, from Makani’s driving to Elsie’s smoking to the freakish monsters, wanted to kill him, why not the food?
“Local food that won’t kill you . . . I know a place. Hurry, it’s gonna close down soon.” She pulled him out to the jeep and started the process of hot wiring the engine. “Just be warned, it looks weird, but it’s really good.” The engine roared to life and she started out the driveway, nearly running over a man and his grocery cart. “Sorry, Mr. Matsumoto!”
Flynn looked at her sideways, a little dubious, but he’d learned to trust her by now. At least, he knew she wasn’t deliberately trying to get him killed. “I hope it’s good for a last meal before the relatives drop in.” He smirked. “I’ll need fortification before I have to deal with them.”
“I refuse to believe your family is that bad. You’re totally cool, so they must be all right.” She got them back onto the freeway, and started back up the hill to the south side of the island.
If they looked carefully, they might have seen the large wings that flew out across the dusky sky.
“Totally cool? I’ve never been called totally cool before. Nerdy, dorky, dreamer, sure and I probably fit into those. Cool? I don’t know.” And yet, he smiled. She was cool, there was no doubt of that. What would his nieces say? ‘Fully sick’. Did kids still say that? It didn’t sound like a good thing to him, but apparently, it was.
“You’re probably all of the above. But I’ve yet to see you get nerdy or dorky.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Do you have Star Wars sheets on your bed at home? Or a scale model of the Starship Enterprise? Or a zombie survival kit?”
“Depends, would any of those things be a turn-on?” He grinned. “I’m happy to show you my light sabre. Seriously, no to all of those things, although I had batman sheets as a kid. I’m just good with computers and read too much. Or I used to, when I wasn’t running away from monsters. I have a few books on my tablet.”
“As long as it isn’t Snooki’s autobiography, it’s fine. Or Fifty Shades of Grey. When I read, it’s usually Anne McCaffrey’s old stuff. Before it got confusing with all the wibbly wobbly timey-wimey stuff.”
“What’s a Snooki?” He shook his head. “Never mind. No, none of those. I like the action adventure books, like the old Wilbur Smith, but I have been re-reading Harry Potter. Go on, laugh,” he dared.
“No! Those were good. I had the whole set, before I gave them to my nieces and nephews.” She grimaced and said, “I bet they’re coloring books, by now.”
“I wouldn’t let my nieces have them, they’d burn them or use them as toilet paper. My nephew, I might, but he’s only 18 months old. Give him time, he’ll be a terror eventually.”
“Grandma always said the girls in our family were worse than the boys. I think she just said that because I’m the only girl, though.” She quickly hit the exit back off the freeway, and turned past a graveyard. Stopping at a red light, Makani looked over and saw a ball of light hanging in the shadows, perched over a crumbling headstone. “Flynn, look . . . ”
She closed her eyes and took deep breaths.
“Chinese lantern?” he suggested hopefully. He didn’t want to think about a new something out there. “Disco ball?” That might be far-fetched, but so was the truth. “Disco is almost as scary as the mananagaal. More so in some cases.”
“Hope it stays where it is . . . ” Her eyes snapped open and Makani floored the gas pedal. She screeched away, trying not to look b
ack. When they were far away, she took a shuddering breath, “Hinotama. Fireball. Will’o the wisp, in the white man’s tongue.”
“I don’t know any white men that say Will o’ the Wisp.” He looked back over his shoulder. “Do you think other people can see these things?” He thought about the dead pregnant woman on the news. Maybe that was just a coincidence. A sad one, naturally, but better than a herd of monsters running around trying to kill other people. Herd of monsters, was that right?
“What is the collective noun for monsters?” he asked vaguely.
“I think it’s ‘mob’ . . . and do others see them? If they believe, yes. That was always the problem. No one believed me.” A shadow crossed her face, and she sighed. “Why you saw the thing in the cave the first time? I don’t know. Maybe you believe, on some instinctive level?”
He thought about that for a while. “Maybe,” he started slowly, “it’s because I read Harry Potter, so I was ready for something supernatural, other than the weird fish and the smell?”
“Maybe you’ve got aboriginal blood in you? You know, racial memory, and all that? I believe we all carry some of it.” She took a hard right and pulled into a grubby strip mall, nearly running over a troop of strippers on a smoke break.
“Maybe,” he agreed. “Stranger things have happened.” He looked back again. “I don’t think we’re being followed, at least not yet. So where’s this place we’re going to eat?”
She jumped out of the jeep and smiled. “Strip club! Duck Butt has the best Korean and Hawaiian food. Ever!” She waved at the strippers on their way in, and on closer inspection, not a single one of them was a real woman. “The girls are a little more than most men can handle, though.”
“Uh-ha,” Flynn’s eyes were huge as he followed her inside. He heard what she said, but it took, a while longer to register. When it did, his face swung around to look at Makani “What does that mean?” he asked.
“They’re all mahu-lanis! It’s okay, though, they won’t harm you. Just harass and tease you.” She smiled and started inside, the red light spilling out onto the pavement. “It’s better than being stuck outside with any of the other creatures of the night!”
“Mahu—what?” Flynn was starting to wonder if he could download an English/ Hawaiian dictionary. Maybe he should starting slipping in a few words of Strine—Australian slang.
“Ehh, braddah! Howzzit?” A very large local woman with massive hands and a five o’clock shadow wrapped an arm around Flynn’s waist.
“Aunty!” Makani grabbed his hand and pulled him towards a table in the back, “He’s with me! We’re just here for the food! Although I might buy him a lap dance later.”
“Baby girl, you mean he’s not baklaa? Not even! Look at that face! Come on!” The almost-woman pouted, adjusting her fake boobs in her tiny top.
“Nope, he likes girls! I’ll find you one. Trust me, Aunty!” She waved her off and sat Flynn down. “Apparently, you look like her type.”
“The feeling isn’t mutual, I’m afraid,” Flynn said in mock regret. He looked around at the gaudy decor and worn carpet. “This place would be right at home in the Cross. King’s Cross” he explained. “In Sydney. Believe me, the word Cross has nothing to do with churches.” Quite the opposite.
“Apparently, this kind of thing is universally weird. But, their kitchen makes the best squid luau and lomi salmon. And the kal-bi ribs! And pipikaula! And they make their own kimchee!” Makani ordered what sounded like everything on the menu, and a couple of beers. “My grandma would come here and bring us kids to eat when the place just opened, so the girls weren’t stripping yet. Yeah, I’ve got fond memories of this place.”
“I bet it hasn’t been renovated since then. Was the carpet orange back then or yellow?” He looked down at it. It was now a sickly shade of brown, embedded with stains. What made the stains, he didn’t want to think about.
“Uhhh . . . pink?” She laughed and passed a beer to Flynn, and took a long pull from her own. “It’s not that bad. At least the food is awesome! Best kept secret in Kalihi. But don’t eat the manapua. I swear, they use real cats inside.”
He shuddered, thinking of the dead ones at Makani’s place. “I suppose you could sell them a few spare cats if you needed cash in the slow season,” he joked. It was in poor taste and he regretted it the moment he said it.
Fortunately, she didn’t seem too upset by the suggestion. “They asked Grandma if they could come and pick off a few. She said no; they would taste awful from the bacon.” Makani shrugged. “Although they bought a black dog from her once. Oh, look, food!” The waitress dropped off plate after plate of interesting delicacy, all kinds of things with names that couldn’t be pronounced.
“Please tell me there’s no dog in any of that.” He picked up a fork and poked at it watching oil and juices dribble onto the surprisingly pristine plate. The aroma coming off it made his mouth water.
“Not unless they’ve changed their recipes.” She speared something green stuffed with pork and fish, and started tearing into it. “Nah, it’s good!”
He hesitated a moment longer and then started to eat. “Mmm, that is good.” He nodded his head and chewed. “Much better than pizza. Although I bet you know the best pizza on the island.”
She looked at him as if he had said something silly. “Of course. Later, we’ll try it. Probably with your family. Now, try the taegu. It’s spicy.” The food was a mix of everything Makani liked. The pickled vegetables, smoked pork, grilled and dried bits of fish, everything a local eats but tourists don’t get to see.
“Yes ma’am,” he replied smartly. He took a bite and promptly had to wash it down with a gulp of beer. “Woah, what the bloody hell is in that?” He opened his mouth and sucked in air to cool his mouth.
Makani stifled a giggle, “That was Korean spiced cod. Your accent gets cute when you’re distressed.” For her part, she grabbed some, and started chewing. “Yeah, it’s all right! It’s actually milder than the last time. Must be a fresh batch.”
His face reddened, not just from the heat in the food. “I’ve always thought it sounded like a pretty horrible accent. It could be worse, though, I could be from New Zealand.” He popped something less spicy into his mouth and wiggled a brow at her.
“If you were from New Zealand . . . could I call you ‘Frodo’?” She kept nibbling on little bits of things, making sure to try everything on the table.
“It’s a moot point, since I’m not.” He laughed.
“Fine, killjoy!” She rolled her eyes, “So, whadda ya think of the food? Worth having to watch the mahu lanis on stage, right?”
“There are people on stage?” he asked innocently. “I hadn’t noticed. Why would I need to look, with you across the table from me?”
“Apparently, flirting is the same in every accent.” Makani smiled over the lip of her bottle. “Come on, let’s finish up and get back to the house? Make sure you’re rested up, so you can deal with your sister’s troglodyte family.”
“Rest?” His face fell, but he was barely holding back a cheeky smile. “No suk suk?” The grin broke across his face. Rest wouldn’t help him to deal with family. Alcohol and some duct tape might, though. Alcohol for him, duct tape for his family’s mouths.
“You won’t know until we’re alone, will you?” She ran a toe up his bare calf under the table, a secret smile on her face.
“I’m finished,” he said promptly. He stuffed about two mouthfuls of food into his mouth and washed it down with the last of his beer. If she kept doing things like that, they may not get back to her place.
“Boys.” She rolled her eyes again and got up, walking over to the ‘girl’ running the register. Makani paid the tab, and they laughed about something before she got back to Flynn’s side. “They all think you’re cute and asked if I wanted to put you in the hot seat before we go.”
He eyed her dubiously. “What? I assume that’s bad?” And probably involved humiliating him.
“It probably w
ould be. Don’t worry. I told them you just got out of prison, and it would bring back bad memories of your cellmate. Let’s go before they realize that was a lie!” She grabbed his hand and started dragging him out the door.
“Hey!” he protested, letting her drag him. “How do you know it isn’t?” It wasn’t of course, but she didn’t know that. It did make his mind go in a very unpleasant direction. He shook his head and returned his thoughts to her. And suk suk.
CHAPTER 13
“It feels good to be home. I can’t be away for too long.” Makani looked up at her little house and sighed. She knew nothing else had happened since she had left that morning. The cats still littered the yard, their eyes shining in the dark as she led Flynn up to the front porch. They wouldn’t stick around if there was danger, not after the violent attacks that had occurred.
Makani opened the door, taking a deep breath as she kicked her shoes off onto the porch and went inside. She flopped over onto the ancient couch and sighed, happy to be where she belonged.
Flynn flopped down beside her. “I think I ate too much.” He patted his belly.
She took a look at him and lifted his hand and shirt. She shrugged and lifted her own to peer at her stomach. “Yeah, you probably did. Look at that, we’ve got matching food babies.”