The walk of misery continued as they made their way through thirteen more valleys. Every time they went down, Lana knew they’d have to go back up. It wasn’t until they were halfway there, when they stopped for lunch, that they realized Lana had forgotten to pack half their food. Jack didn’t reprimand her; in fact, he acted as though it was no big deal. At about the same time, skies turned gray and the air smelled thick with rain.
“We should turn back,” Lana said.
Jack looked genuinely confused. “Why would we do that?”
“Why wouldn’t we? We have no food and there’s a storm coming,” she said, trying not to cry.
He tapped his head. “This way, we get to see what we’re made of. Have a little faith.”
By the time they reached the cliffs of Waimanu Valley, waterfalls poured over the trail and their shoes were soaked through. They descended in near darkness. Huge surf crashed into the boulder-filled beach, and they set up their tent in a small patch of mud. Lana was sure they would be taken out by either a giant wave or a flash flood. Jack seemed unfazed. Even when a long centipede crawled over his foot, he just laughed.
“We’re in his territory.”
After eating brownies for dinner, Lana collapsed into her wet sleeping blanket. It was the worst sleep of her life. When dawn finally came, the skies had dried, the surf settled, and the day broke blue and cloudless. Lana ignored Jack when she got up. She was furious at him. As a peace offering, he made hot chocolate spiked with coffee.
“Here’s a secret, Lana. When you think all is lost and you’re about to give up, when you want more than anything to turn around and quit, don’t. Keep going.” He paused for effect in the way he always did before he was about to reveal some great discovery. “That’s when the magic happens.”
The rest of the trip was beautiful and memorable and perfect. So many of their experiences had been like that. That was Jack to a T.
Lana walked up the trail behind the house to investigate the outdoor shower. After days of ice-cold showers and sponge baths, Lana decided it was time to figure it out. Water was piped over from the big tank to a smaller holding tank which had a cast-iron box underneath it. From the looks of it and the way it was crudely welded together, Jack had made it. Lana opened the door and saw ashes and chunks of burned wood. At least it had been used before; that was hopeful.
She went back to the house and grabbed a towel, a basket of firewood and an ax. Then she came back out and split the wood into smaller pieces and lit a fire in the box. It took her several tries to get it going, and once she did, she turned the shower on. It took some time to warm, and as water was valuable, she stepped in while it was still lukewarm. After the past few days, lukewarm was fine with her. The act of taking a proper shower made her feel human again. Layers of sweat and grime and heartache rinsed into the rock beneath her bare feet.
While she stood there, with the water running on her face, she heard a small voice. “Can I go next?”
Lana peered over the shower door to see Coco standing there with a towel. “Why, of course you can. I was just warming it up for all of you.”
Coco had developed several big tangles in her hair, which now had a greasy sheen to it. And despite the sponge baths, she had developed a musty smell. This hot shower was about the best thing to happen to them in days. By now the water was properly hot and she had to add some cold. Lana wrapped herself in the towel and stepped out.
“Do you need help?” she asked Coco, not really sure how much to mother her and how much to let her be.
“I can do it myself.”
“Make sure to wash your hair twice.”
Lana went in to tell the others and get another load of firewood. When everyone had had their turn, they sat down to eat. The mood around the table was several notches lighter, and the room smelled like spring.
After breakfast, Benji and Marie insisted on walking down to the pasture and working on the fence posts. Some invisible line had been removed between the two, and now they acted as though they had known each other for years. Getting your hands dirty side by side had that effect on people. Coco and Sailor trailed along.
Lana took off in the truck for Volcano House. As much as she was getting used to having a house full of people, stolen moments alone gave her space to breathe. She was lost in thought, passing through the Sugi pine grove, when she spotted something peculiar up ahead. A white object was suspended in midair. She stopped the truck and climbed out. A handkerchief tied to a piece of twine hung from a branch. Cinnamon filled the air. She pulled it down and noticed words scrawled in permanent marker.
Volcano House. 1700. GB.
Lana felt as though she might hyperventilate. He certainly was bold, demanding her presence without any explanation. But on a white flag. She couldn’t help but smile at his truce attempt. Yesterday he had been rude as all get out, but Mochi’s words played in her head. Maybe you need to teach him. She stuffed the handkerchief in the glove box and continued on to Kano Store. She could decide later.
Mrs. Kano was outside, arranging anthuriums. Either she had forgotten to take her hair net off, or she just didn’t care. The scarlet flowers reminded Lana of Christmas, and though there was no extra money, she grabbed a bunch. Pretending something was true often went a long way in making it actually feel so, she had learned over the years.
“You here to call those Germans again?” Mrs. Kano said.
“I have to keep trying. Say, would you mind doing the talking this time? You could ask for Mr. Wagner and save me the trouble of having to speak to that awful Mr. London.”
Iris walked out from the back. “I will, but first you should see this,” she said, leading her inside. She slid a piece of paper across the counter. It was facedown. Lana got a sense of foreboding. She flipped it.
Wanted for Questioning:
Mrs. Lana Hitchcock, of O‘ahu, in connection with the kidnapping of Coco (8) and Marie (13) Wagner of Hilo. Both girls were last seen in their home on Kɩ¯lauea Avenue on December 7,
in the company of Mrs. Hitchcock, wife of Buck Hitchcock. Anyone with information on their whereabouts should immediately contact the sheriff’s office or the FBI.
Lana’s whole body went numb. She said, “You must know I didn’t kidnap these girls. Who put this up, and when?”
She had known this was a possibility but had doubted Mr. London would actually go through with reporting her to the authorities. He must be more of a creep than she realized, and far bolder.
“Yesterday afternoon, two men in suits.”
“Did they talk to you?”
Mrs. Kano shuffled in and said, “Iris wasn’t here. They asked if I knew you and I said no. I don’t know you. But I knew your dad and I liked him.”
Lana needed to straighten this out right away. “Thank you for taking it down, and for telling me. You did the right thing.”
Mrs. Kano’s expression was unreadable. “No one saw it. But better you lay low for now.”
When Iris dialed the Wagners’ number, the phone rang and rang and rang, just as Lana had feared. But right before Iris was going to hang up, someone finally answered. A man’s voice.
“May I speak with Mrs. Wagner please?” Iris paused to listen. “Okay, thank you very much.” She hung up with a dull look on her face. “They’re still being held by the authorities.”
The shelves in the store had not been replenished since Lana’s first visit, and they were almost empty now. Several twenty-pound bags of rice, corned beef hash, tuna, flour, a few other nonperishables and five jars of peanut butter. Iris said they didn’t allow any hoarding, so Lana took one of each. Out back, there were crates and barrels of sweet potato, greens, eggs and plums, which they were more generous with, since they had a continuous supply up the road.
“Do you sell seeds?”
“No,” Mrs. Kano said.
“Normally we
don’t, but I have some I could give you,” Iris added. She disappeared into the back of the store for a minute and came back with a couple of small brown envelopes that she handed to Lana. “For sweet potato, all you need are cuttings. I have a bunch up at the farm. Can you swing back this afternoon?”
“Sure.”
For the first time in her life, Lana was afraid of not having enough to eat. And worse, that the girls would go hungry. Except for the occasional storm, the barges with food usually arrived promptly, providing the islands with a never-ending stream of sustenance.
“Any idea when you’ll get more food?”
“All the ships have been taken over by the military and food is going to the troops. With the Japanese subs out there, it’s a big risk to come anywhere near these islands.”
Lana and the kids spent the rest of the day organizing and labeling rows in the garden and planting the seeds. The geese seemed overly interested in the seeds, and Lana asked Coco to ask Sailor to keep them away. Lana kept the flyer to herself. She wanted to tell Mochi, but he didn’t need anything else to worry about. Thank God Mrs. Kano had lied for her. She wanted to straighten things out, but the thought of the girls going back with Mr. London made her sick to her stomach.
Mochi sat in the shade of a nearby ‘ohi‘a tree and offered up advice now and then. “You need to make mounds for the sweet potato, and not too close together. They like to crawl.”
Coco rolled her eyes. “Plants don’t crawl, silly.”
He smiled so tightly his eyes were closed. “Oh, but they do—they just do it a little more slowly than we do and when we aren’t watching.”
Several times Lana noticed Coco mumbling to the seeds. “What are you saying?” she finally asked.
“Just singing to them.”
So what if Coco was quirky? It made life more interesting. And Lord knew they could use any kind of entertainment to keep their minds off of the situation at hand.
Speaking of situations, Lana had been changing her mind every five minutes about whether or not to meet Grant. The man was presumptuous. He deserved another chance. She shouldn’t leave the house for too long. Everyone would be fine without her for a couple of hours. She was too busy now, with Christmas and all. But the way she felt on the inside when he looked at her was almost too much to bear. The fact of the matter was she really didn’t have any choice.
* * *
At Kano Store, there were two bucketfuls of vines waiting for her on the front porch. When Lana poked her head inside to say hello and thank them, Mrs. Kano was propped up against the wall with her eyes closed. Lana was about to tiptoe back to the buckets, when Mrs. Kano said, “We saw them.”
“Excuse me?” Lana said.
“The Germans. They came by in a squad car.”
Lana felt herself go numb. “You sure?”
“Until now, only Japanese in the back of those cars. Not today.”
Lana walked closer to the counter. “The Wagners are my dad’s neighbors, the ones I’ve been trying to reach on the telephone. The girls’ parents. Some of the nicest folks you’d ever meet. But you saw firsthand how the government isn’t taking chances.”
“Germans in Hilo. How much of a threat can they be?”
“Good question.”
Mrs. Kano squinted and looked her up and down. “Why you all fancied up, girl?”
“Me? I only brought a few things with me from O‘ahu, so my options are limited.”
“No, I mean the lipstick.”
“Oh, that. Habit, I guess. I’m going to Volcano House to see Uncle Theo.” Lana thanked Mrs. Kano before she could ask any more questions, threw the buckets in the truck and took off in a cloud of dust. She arrived in the parking lot at five minutes to five. She checked the rearview mirror, dabbed her coral lipstick with the white handkerchief and checked again.
A loud tapping on the window. Her hands flew down and she jumped, head nearly hitting the roof of the truck.
Grant’s face was six inches from the glass, and he was smiling. “Hey there.”
“You scared me half to death. I didn’t hear you drive up,” she said, feeling flustered and caught in the act.
“Sorry about that. I rode over.” He motioned toward Boss, then opened her door.
When she climbed out, he was still standing there, awkwardly close. Was he expecting a hug or, God forbid, a kiss? Lana stood with her arms at her sides, straight as a plank and angling back toward the truck. “Hello, Major.”
“You’re still upset,” he said.
A troop of honeycreepers landed in the tree behind them and started chirping away. He glanced up, then back at her. A shadow of stubble ran across his chin. Lana found it impossible to turn away.
“That remains to be seen,” she said.
“Then I’m glad you came. Shall we go inside?”
They walked in side by side, him dressed casually in jeans and a tan corduroy jacket and Lana feeling overdressed in a white skirt and pink checkered blouse. But it was her only long-sleeved shirt. Thankfully the lobby was empty. The two of them being seen together was likely to cause talk. On one hand, she didn’t want to be a spectacle, on the other, she was beyond caring.
They sat in the rocking chairs overlooking the caldera. Grant pulled his close. “Thank you for coming,” he said. “To be honest, when I saw your truck in the lot, I was a little surprised.”
“I figured it wouldn’t kill me to show up.”
He laughed. “I’m that bad, huh?”
“No comment.”
Her eyes went to Mauna Loa, and the bands of sunlight darting into the sky behind it. Grant’s foot started tapping a mile a minute. Sitting here this close to him, it was tough to stay mad, though she was trying her darndest. Remember what he’s done. Who he is.
He chewed his lip and then said, “I owe you a proper apology for how I came across yesterday. I know you don’t get another chance at first impressions and all that, but I honest to God, cross my heart simply came up short for words. I have nothing against that kid. Nothing at all.”
“It sure seemed like you did.”
“Look, I didn’t expect him to be Japanese, though in hindsight it’s not surprising. Most people up here are. With what we have going on over at the military camp, it complicates things,” he said.
Lana cleared her throat. “What exactly is going on over there?”
“We’re holding the detainees in the barracks until we get word from the Feds how to proceed. Right now everyone on the island is being brought here.”
Here was her chance. “All Japanese?”
“Almost. We got a German couple today brought in from Hilo. Turned in by a friend for being sympathetic to the Nazis.”
Her heart skipped along double time. “Are they really?”
“They seem like decent people, but we’re at war now. This friend had some information that didn’t bode well for the couple.”
“How do you find out for sure if someone is a Nazi or a Japanese spy?” she asked.
He fingered his collar nervously. “It takes some digging, I guess, but that’s up to the police and the Feds. I just make sure the camp is running smoothly and keep the guards in order. I’m also helping secure the park from any future invasions or funny business.”
“So the camp has turned into a prison?” she asked.
“More of a holding cell. While people are being investigated.”
Lana grew quiet. He sure was right about one thing: what was going on at Kīlauea Military Camp certainly did complicate things. Especially now that she knew the Wagners were there.
Grant leaned back with his head in his hands, rocking the chair gently back and forth. He stared out at the expanse of lava and sky. “Can I ask you a question, Lana?”
It was too late to back out, but she was feeling exposed in a way she never had before. R
aw and naked. “You can ask, but whether I’ll answer is another matter.”
He stopped rocking and put his hand on her arm. “So here’s the strange thing. Pearl Harbor has been damn near annihilated, the islands are on high alert and carloads of new suspects keep arriving at our camp. I’ve hardly slept a wink, and yet there’s one question that’s been keeping me up at night.”
Lana wasn’t sure she wanted to know. “Is it something I can answer?”
Their eyes locked.
“I know you said you’d be taking back your old name, but what I’m dying to know for certain is if that husband of yours is still in the picture at all,” he said, giving her arm a slight squeeze that sent shivers down to her toes.
The moment felt surreal. A point in time that all else hinged upon. Yes would be an easy way out. Keeping her safe and untouchable. No, on the other hand, would open her up to all kinds of possibilities, some of which made her blush. There was no way to avoid an answer, but she hedged. “Why is it you want to know?”
“Maybe I can answer that with a story about your father,” he said.
“My father?”
He nodded. “One day there was the Tomato Can Tournament over at the golf course. We drew names out of a hat, and Jack and I ended up being partners. Wherever we went, this dang cow was following us, and every time we made a shot, we had to shoo her off the fairway. The cow paid no mind to Jack, but I was able to get her moving. That got him talking about the house he was building and his plans with the horses and a few cows, too. He had never mentioned it before, but he said he felt like he could trust me.
“He told me that when General Short urged people to build bomb shelters and make plans for evacuating civilians out of high-risk areas, he knew he better get cracking. I thought a hideaway house seemed pretty outlandish and that he was all talk. But soon after the golf tournament, he had me come down to see for myself. The framing was up and I realized he was serious. ‘Oh, I’m serious, all right,’ he said. ‘Now I just have to figure out how to get my pigheaded daughter over here when the time comes.’” Grant stopped there but looked as though he wanted to continue. Lana waited for a moment, but he didn’t go on.
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