I listen to Nori and Leia talking about the new Hawaii Volcano Observatory Center being built by two mainlanders, wondering how they’d gotten all the financing, and if it will bring more tourism to Hilo. Along with the railroad and the burgeoning sugar industry, Hilo town seems to be expanding each week.
“More people, just what we need,” Leia says.
“Good for business yeah,” Nori adds. “You remember when it was so quiet here, a sneeze brought excitement!”
We all laugh.
“Franklin applying for a job?” Noelani asks.
I deal out the last round of cards. “He was turned down,” I say, wishing he was hired for the observatory crew so he could stay home for a while.
As if Nori knows what I’m thinking, she says, “Not using our local boys doesn’t make sense, yeah; instead they bring in workers from the mainland. Doesn’t sound like good business to me.”
Nori glances over at me and smiles, knowing how much I hate it every time he leaves. I quickly gather up my cards, only to realize it isn’t that Franklin didn’t get the job that’s bothering me, it’s that he seemed almost happy to have been turned down.
Answers
December 18–20, 1935
35
Lava
Koji pulled his truck into the driveway of the green bungalow. He’d spent the morning with Samuel and the boys out on the boat, and had planned on driving back to the market, but Daniel was again lingering heavily in his thoughts. Koji had been down in Hilo for the past two days and hadn’t seen him yet. He turned off the engine and sat in his truck, staring at the house. He could almost convince himself that Mariko would step out onto the porch at any minute, her apron hanging loosely around her neck as she smiled and waved him in. He remembered the warmth of her body pressed against his, how hard it was to leave her in the early hours of the mornings to return to Puli. No matter how hard he willed Mariko to return, the porch remained empty and he couldn’t bring himself to get out of the truck.
Koji gazed at the fruitless mango tree and imagined its branches once again heavy with mangoes. He loved the tree almost as much as she did. Wasn’t it what had finally brought them together?
It had been the most auspicious day of his life. Koji was supposed to meet Franklin at Mariko’s house, and he arrived to find her picking mangoes off the lower branches of the tree, which stood more than fifteen feet tall. His throat tightened at the sight of her. She had already filled a basket full of mangoes and was looking hot and sweaty on that muggy day in late July when he walked up the driveway. At the time, Mariko and Franklin had been going steady for almost a year, so she must have known that Franklin was late to everything, stopping to talk to friends or getting pulled into card games or dice games, and later making it up to her with his sweet talk and flowers that he’d most likely picked from someone’s yard. Koji had lost count of all the times Franklin had shown up late, or not at all, while he and Razor waited for him at the train station. He could see it plain as day. Why couldn’t she?
“You’re late again!” Mariko yelled, standing up and turning around only to see that it wasn’t Franklin walking up the drive, but him. Koji was wearing pants cut off below the knees and carried a bat and glove. He saw the glint of disappointment in her eyes, which quickly turned to recognition and a smile.
“I’m supposed to meet Franklin here for a game,” Koji said, looking down at the stack of baskets next to her.
“Franklin said he’d help me pick mangoes this morning, so where is he?” Mariko asked, an edge of anger pushing through.
Koji was startled for a moment but then caught himself. She wasn’t mad at him. “He sent me instead,” he teased. He didn’t quite know where the words had come from, but she simply shook her head.
“You’ll do,” she finally said with a smile. Mariko pointed to a wood ladder lying on the ground. “Can you pick the mangoes that are higher up?”
“I can manage, yeah,” he said.
Koji raised the ladder and propped it against the tree. He quickly climbed up and began picking the mangoes, placing them gently into a waiting basket. He reached to the left and felt her gazing up at him.
“When did you see Franklin?” she asked.
“Last weekend,” Koji answered. “He told me to meet him here.”
Mariko paused. “I guess I’m lucky, eh, the mangoes will be picked after all,” she said.
“You are lucky,” Koji said, smiling down at her. “Don’t worry,” he added. “Franklin will show up soon.”
At seventeen, Koji wondered where this new boldness came from; he was always the quietest of the three. Franklin was the smooth talker, and Razor just the talker. Mariko remained silent, and he wondered if he’d said something wrong. There was only the rustling of leaves, the soft pluck of the mangoes as he pulled them from their stems.
“You know, this mango tree is special,” Mariko suddenly said, breaking the silence. He carried a filled basket down the ladder and placed the basket to the side. “It was grown from one of the seeds my grandfather brought over on the ship with him from Japan, from a tree that gave mangoes to generations of our family back in our ancestral village. When my grandfather arrived in Hilo and found out that all of his possessions stored on the ship had been sitting in seawater, he thought the seeds had been ruined. But he dried them and planted them anyway. And now, all these years later, the tree still gives us baskets of sweet mangoes every year.”
Koji pulled another mango off the branch. “Everyone knows your tree produces the sweetest mangoes on the island,” he agreed.
“I don’t know about that,” she’d said.
“Just speaking the truth, yeah,” Koji added. He leaned over and shook the branches. “The branches are still healthy and strong, eh, it should produce mangoes for years to come.”
She looked up at him and smiled. “That’s what Franklin says about you, that you’re strong and dependable.”
Koji hadn’t realized Frank talked to her about him, and he looked away flushed with embarrassment. He wondered then what else she knew.
“Don’t believe everything Franklin tells you,” he finally said. Koji cleared his throat and reached up to pull a few more mangoes off the tree, placing them carefully into the basket.
He had returned to pick mangoes with her every year since.
* * *
Koji rolled down the truck window and leaned back against the seat. The warm wind carried the sweet scent of wild kahili ginger from the yard. He looked up, heart jumping when he heard the door of the bungalow open, only this time it was Maile who stepped out onto the porch, followed by Daniel. Sweet Maile, he thought, she’ll save them both. Koji was lifted from his thoughts by the sight of her. The first time he met her, she was a thin, shy girl who could barely look him in the eyes. Now she was all grown up, looking straight at him with a welcoming gaze. Mariko had always liked her. She’s a smart girl, yeah, won’t let Daniel always have his way. She knew the pitfalls of being an only child. When the young couple broke up, Koji knew Mariko was equally as heartbroken, though she never showed it.
“You coming in, or are you going to bake in your truck all afternoon?” Maile called out, a smile on her face.
Koji sat up and ignored her teasing. He pulled the key out of the ignition, but instead of getting out of the truck, he leaned out of the window and said, “Good to see you, Maile girl, do you think I can borrow Daniel for a short time?”
“Just as long as you promise to return for dinner,” she said, not missing a beat.
“It’s a deal,” Koji said. He was glad Maile was home and happy to see them together again. It was what Daniel needed—grounding. Koji turned his gaze toward him and said, “Let’s go for a ride, yeah.”
“Where to?” Daniel asked.
“You’ll see.”
* * *
They were back together in Koji’s old gray truck for the first time since Daniel had returned to the mainland. They both remained quiet, the air thick with u
neasiness as he drove slowly back out to the main road, the squeaking springs of the front seat loud and insistent. Koji grimaced, never having noticed it when he was by himself. The old woolen blanket covering the front seat did little to hide the coils that sprang through the worn leather and pressed against the back of his thighs. Once they were back out on the main road, Koji turned right and away from town. He wasn’t certain where he was going until that very moment. The truck bucked and the gears ground as he shifted and headed uphill toward Saddle Road and the lava flow.
“Let’s go see what all the fuss is about,” he said.
Daniel cleared his throat and relaxed back in his seat. “The other morning Wilson and Mano were talking about driving up to the flow.”
Koji heard the relief in his voice. They weren’t quite back to normal but they were heading in that direction.
“We’ll beat them to it, eh,” he said.
Daniel nodded and turned to him. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry for running out on you last week.”
He glanced at Daniel and glimpsed a slight twitching under his left eye. It was something he’d brought back from Chicago.
“I wanted to tell you about your father. I should have,” Koji said, staring straight ahead, the truck bouncing along the uneven road. “And then time slipped by, yeah. You were in high school studying so hard, and then you left for college and medical school in Chicago. By the time you returned, your mother was sick.” He turned onto a smaller road and remained quiet in thought, finally adding, “You were right, too, yeah. I didn’t want to lose you both.”
Daniel inhaled and let out a quick breath. “You took care of us, you could never lose us.”
Koji stayed quiet. It was always his greatest fear. They were all he ever had.
“Seems foolish now,” Daniel continued, “but I waited so long for him to come back. When I was young, I used to tell the other kids at school that my father had an accident at work and had lost his memory, and that’s why he never came back. It was because he didn’t remember where we lived. I was afraid I was the reason he left, that I was in the way.”
Koji didn’t know what to say. He knew Franklin’s leaving had to have affected him, but he never knew to what extent. Daniel was so young, and he tried to step in for his father in whatever way he could. Koji realized now that he never really could have taken Franklin’s place.
“You were never in the way. You and your mother were the best things to ever happen to Franklin, yeah. Don’t ever think otherwise. Your father had his own problems.”
“Why didn’t she tell me? Why keep it from me then?”
“It wasn’t so simple; you were still a boy and she didn’t want you to hate him.”
“So you both lied to me.”
Daniel pursed his lips and Koji glimpsed his greatest weakness, his shortsightedness when he felt left out. He wondered if it would have eased his fears if Franklin hadn’t left them.
“It was never about lying to you. We just wanted to save you from the hurt, yeah.”
Daniel remained quiet in thought. “I shouldn’t have run off.”
“I should have told you sooner,” Koji said. He turned to him with a smile. “Time to stay put, yeah. I’ve found running only makes you tired in the end.”
“Exhausted,” Daniel said.
We are talking again, Koji thought. It’s a step in the right direction.
* * *
The farther they drove away from Hilo, the thicker and fuller the vegetation grew, the enormous trees, shrubs, and foliage overgrown and unmanageable, the lingering scents of night-blooming jasmine, white ginger, and wild orchids spilling onto the road. The island never failed to surprise Koji, how a raw and wild rain forest teeming with life could suddenly open up to miles of black, barren landscape, leveled by large swaths of smooth pāhoehoe or jagged ’a’ā lava. As they drove farther up the mountain, Daniel leaned out of the open window and Koji knew they were nearing the lava flow by the bitter smell of burning in the air.
“Getting closer, yeah,” Koji said, and pointed. “Just beyond the trees there, eh.”
Smoke rose and drifted into the sky. Koji slowed to turn down a narrow dirt road to avoid any roadblocks set up to stop the locals from getting too close to the flow. They were quickly enveloped by a tunnel of trees and shrubs to both sides of the truck, the thwack thwack of the branches hitting against their windows as muted daylight entered slantwise through the branches. Koji stopped the truck when the road narrowed and became too tight for them to drive down any farther.
“We’ll walk the rest of the way, yeah,” he said.
“Ever been up this close?” Daniel asked.
Koji shook his head. “First time,” he said.
They pushed through tree branches and foliage for another half mile up a slippery, rocky trail when Koji felt the heat rise considerably, along with the smoky, stink-filled air. They held bandanas over their mouths, keeping the acrid smoke at bay, even as their eyes stung and their throats felt raw and irritated. Koji began coughing.
“Okay?” Daniel asked, stopping. “Should we turn back?”
Koji shook his head and cleared his throat. “Let’s go a little farther,” he said.
They continued along the trail as the trees began to thin and the air thickened, making it harder to breathe. Between bare branches they glimpsed a dark and smoldering world, bleak and barren, the hot, molten lava flowing like a river not thirty feet from them. They walked farther still until the trail narrowed and Koji stopped them from going any farther. From where they stood among the trees, they watched the molten lava surging down the mountainside, hot and alive, waves of orange-red seething with the gurgling and burping of methane gas. Anything in its way was quickly consumed with the explosive crackle and pop of flames. Koji heard a cacophony of sounds, the air so alive it felt as if it would swallow them up. He didn’t know how long they stood there sweating, mesmerized by the lava’s relentless migration, when he heard a crackling sound, which grew louder before it was quickly followed by an explosive burst of a new eruption from a fissure not fifteen feet from where they stood. The lava shot up like fireworks, sending out steam and smoke, followed by the red-hot beast oozing from the new vent and heading in their direction.
“Let’s go!” Koji yelled. He turned and grabbed Daniel’s arm, pushing him toward the trail as lava showered down nearby. “Go now!”
Daniel nodded and quickly ran back down the trail.
Koji couldn’t help but turn back for one moment, hypnotized by the scene, a world in which only Pele had control. In that instant, he wondered what it would feel like to just let go, to give himself up to the goddess. A righteous sacrifice if it would stop the flow from reaching Hilo. Would Mariko be waiting for him? A loud, crackling sound quickly pulled Koji back as raining lava set a shrub next to him ablaze. He felt the advancing heat, knew he had to leave right away. He turned and quickly followed Daniel down the path.
Koji moved cautiously down the damp, uneven ground of the slippery trail. He was careful not to trip over the snakelike roots, the overgrown vegetation, and the moss-covered rocks when he heard a loud splintering, followed by the crash of a tree that pushed him faster forward. In no time this part of the rain forest would be gone, reduced to black lava. At the turn in the path he slowed and lost sight of Daniel. All they needed to do was get back to the truck and they would be out of there. What was Koji thinking? He knew better than to get so close to a flow. He could already hear Nori chastising him. How could he explain to her that he needed to feel the blistering heat close up, needed to feel again?
Koji began to cough and stopped to catch his breath, sweaty and suddenly nauseous, his heart racing. He looked down the trail to see Daniel, but he was nowhere in sight. Koji just needed a moment and he’d be on his way again. He bent over, taking small, calming breaths, a reminder of his younger days during the cane burning when nothing stopped him, especially not the heat and smoke. He had cut through hundreds of pounds
of cane in air so smoke-filled from the burn, it was like swallowing coal.
When did he become old?
Koji stood straight, having regained enough breath to continue down the trail again, his legs lighter and moving faster. Everything will be all right, Koji thought, feeling like his old self again. But even before he could digest the thought his foot caught on a tree root and he tripped, falling forward, his forehead striking a tree stump before he landed hard on the ground. It felt as if someone had sucker-punched him with a shovel. Koji stayed on the ground. His head throbbed. A thin trail of sweat trickled from his forehead and down the side of his face. Only when he wiped it away with his sleeve did he see it was blood.
Koji slowly tried to get up.
Stay still, old man, he heard Mariko tell him.
“Just a bump,” he said aloud.
Just like you said about that night, she reminded him.
“Just a cut,” he’d said then. How he missed her.
It had been much more than a cut, though. He and Franklin had fought, years of anger filtered down to that early morning on the beach. Hadn’t Mariko suffered long enough because of him? When Koji saw the knife, something had snapped in him. He fought for his life, hitting Franklin with a strength that had sprung up from deep within. He still couldn’t remember what happened to Franklin after that. Koji was bleeding and knew he had to get away. A crackling sound followed by a crash of something falling quickly snatched away the memory.
Koji pushed himself back up and stood, legs shaky and weak, head throbbing. He grabbed for branches and moved slowly down the trail again. All he had to do was get to Daniel and the truck. He counted each step—one, two, three, four—before his legs gave out and he collapsed to the ground. He just needed to rest a minute more.
Koji closed his eyes and everything went dark.
The Color of Air Page 17
