by Kat Bastion
Quick banter continued to fire back and forth across the table all through dinner. Mase, Cade, and Jason talked baseball for a while. Hannah squealed when the baby gave a sound kick, and Kiki, Kristen, and Kendall all surrounded her.
I smiled at Hannah’s coddling friends.
‘Ohana.
In the East-coast home Mase had left, even at a function meant for parents who didn’t give him the affection or respect he deserved, he was still surrounded by loving family.
“Okay, boys and girls.” Kristen stood from beside Hannah’s chair, then glanced at her watch. “Duty calls. The best events don’t run themselves.”
Folding my napkin on the table, I stood, then leaned toward Mase, whispering, “I gotta make shishi.”
“What-she?” Confusion wrinkled his brow a split second before a glint sparked in his eye.
“Shishi. I have to pee.”
“Oh.” His expression fell. “I thought it was code for coatroom.”
I shook my head on a soft laugh, then kissed his cheek. “Be right back.”
After spending time with the girls in there earlier, I knew exactly where to go: down the corridor and off to the right. Even though no one sat on the beige couch or chairs in the sitting room, my thoughts buzzed with fondness of the few minutes earlier when I’d met the girls, laughter echoing off the walls.
While I was in the stall, a distant low thump sounded: the main bathroom door closing. When I came out, all five bathroom stalls were angled slightly open, empty.
Only my reflection appeared in the mirror above the three white marble sinks, and I smiled. Tutu’s dress made me feel beautiful and loved, as if I’d brought her there with me. My hair fell straight to my shoulders, and the only makeup I wore was mascara on my lashes and clear gloss on my lips. Makuahine, I wish you could see me now. Her little orchid, had blossomed into a woman.
“It won’t matter.”
I gasped and spun around. Mase’s mom stood in the waiting area.
“Mrs. Price?”
“Nothing you do will make a difference. You are not the kind of girl we approve of.” Glaring at me, she crossed her arms. “You will never be good enough for him.”
I winced at her cutting words. A tight band constricted around my chest. Unable to breathe, I pushed past her. Mase’s father stood right outside the door. When I spun around, his wife joined him. They stood side by side, united against me...the girl not from their world.
Mr. Price’s chin raised. “You need to end things with our son.”
The same judgment had come from my family toward Mase. Yet his parents didn’t know me, didn’t understand my heart. They didn’t even care enough about their child to want to try. Just like my father with Mase and me.
I hesitated, wanted to say something—anything to stand up for myself, for Mase, for our love. My lips parted, an explanation about Mase’s true passion hovering on the tip of my tongue.
Mr. Price’s eyes narrowed. “If you don’t end it now, he will be cut off.” Steel edged every word. “He’ll have no choice but to drag his ass back here.”
My heart shot up into my throat at the dire warning. Until that point, I hadn’t realized they had that kind of control over Mase. But now the reason why Mase had said that he hadn’t needed my brother’s sponsorship money made sense.
Tears sprang to my eyes, then I whirled away from his parents.
I rushed down the carpeted hall, unable to breathe. The suffocating hold of Mase’s city, too many calculating people, and his cruel and ruthless parents choked the air from my lungs.
Gasping for breath, almost about to pass out, I paused and gripped the doorframe that led into the ballroom. With great concentration, I focused to suck air in, expel it out.
In…Out…None of it fresh and pure, the perfumed air was tainted with lies and motives.
Desperate to find something to ground me, give me balance before I collapsed to be trampled under the crushing weight of the place, I scanned the tables, searching for him.
Mase, where are you?
On the far side of the room, he sat at the table, right where I’d left him.
At that moment, his head tipped back in laughter, raw happiness emanating from him. All his friends had gathered closer to him. Even Ben, who’d swung by the table to introduce himself while we’d been eating dinner earlier, had abandoned the bar and grabbed a seat beside him. Mase clapped his shoulder, leaned in, then said something that made Ben nod.
Panicked, I took a closer look around the ballroom. All the men wore suits or tuxes. The women, extravagant dresses, glittering diamonds. The tables were adorned with flash. The carpets, ornate and plush. The walls, pristine.
And in the middle of the opulence sat Mase, relaxed back in his chair—genuinely happy. He was surrounded by those who loved him. No matter what he’d said, he belonged in the world around him.
He fit.
I didn’t.
He’d said he didn’t want to be there, believed himself destined for a more simple life. But it didn’t look it. And he needed the money his world provided. Would he be happy with none of it? Without it, could he be free?
His parents had implied that he wouldn’t survive if they cut him off.
I’d thought they’d meant money.
But what had they really threatened to cut him off from? From his friends? The only family he’d ever known? Would his parents turn them against him? Did they have that kind of power?
Or had they meant money?
I’d witnessed much on Maui. Hawaiians hated big-business haoles stealing their way of life. Yet many succumbed, working for those same corporations to be able to eat and clothe themselves.
The lure of money was great when you had none.
Take away friends and money and what did anyone have left?
No matter what Mase said about not needing money, I’d never seen him without. And even though he’d begun to fit into my world…nothing compared to the wealth in front of me.
The family surrounding Mase at the table were filled with love for him. They’d grown up with him, been there for him in good and bad times from grade school on. I had that ‘ohana in Tutu and Makani…but also with Makuakane and Koa and Holokai. No matter how bad things got, my own blood would always be there for me. I knew that in my heart.
“Champagne, miss?”
A waiter stepped into my view. He held up a crystal glass with white-gloved hands.
Barring my way into the room, into Mase’s world, stood centuries of privilege, generations of societal expectation…decades of strong friendship. His parents had no right to take that away.
But I began to think they could—that his choosing me over them would make them try.
I have no right take your ‘ohana away from you either.
But oh, how I wanted to. No better than the rest of them, I wanted to steal Mase away from them, keep him as my own. Tears welling in my eyes, I shut them, and drew in a shaky breath.
“Mase, I need you.” But the whisper never made it into the room. My needs were secondary. My wants? Inconsequential.
“Let him go, little one...” As I stood there fighting for breath, Makuahine’s advice shimmered into my mind, along with a distant memory:
I opened my hand, let the beautiful gecko back into the garden from which he’d come.
“He only knows his home. Wouldn’t do well cooped up in our house. He will find others of his own kind. That’s where he’ll be happiest.”
“He wouldn’t be happy with me?”
“Let him go, Lani…”
Makuahine hadn’t answered my question back then. Because there hadn’t been a good one to give.
When I opened my eyes, tears formed anew, blurring my view of Mase.
Swallowing past the choking cramp in my throat, I blinked and took one last clear look. Then I whispered out what I’d known on some level all along. “I have to let you go.”
Mase…
“What did you do?” My roar
echoed from the front of the ballroom. And I didn’t care who overheard.
“Not a thing.” My mother sniffed with disdain.
My father gave me a stern look. “She’s not right for you, son.”
In other words: They’d told her so. At some point, behind my back, they’d decided to take matters into their own blackened hands. Leilani had never returned from the bathroom. After a twenty-five minute search by the troops, we’d confirmed with the door security that she’d left.
My gut churned. Them even speaking to her and thoughts of how she would’ve reacted, sickened me. “Don’t call me ‘son.’ Neither of you have earned the right. You can’t just slap a label on me. Family is earned from the heart, not entitled by blood. And the woman you so coldheartedly dismissed is righter for me than you’ve ever been.”
“You are my son,” my father snarled, harsh tone more possessionary than loving. “And you need to give up this ridiculous ‘journey’ you’re on. You belong here. With us.”
“Why do I belong here? Because it’s good for your campaign? Perfect optics for the media? Bet it’ll poll well with all your cherished white middle-class voters. Obedient ‘son’ standing by his father’s side. Said son going to medical school to be a world-class surgeon.”
His lips curled into a smug smile. “Works for me.”
“Not for me. News flash, Father: You don’t get to play God with my life.”
“I wish to fucking God Deacon was still alive,” he grumbled, scrubbing a hand over his face.
“Yeah, well me too. Deke knew me, better than anyone. Better than you ever will.”
He glared at me. “Deacon knew his place.”
“Deke knew his heart. Big difference. Lucky for you, he had a natural gift for politics. But you didn’t bother getting to know him well enough to see he excelled in everything he did. And enjoyed it because he thrived on charming others by simply being himself—generous and kindhearted. Not manipulative and controlling.”
My father crossed his arms. “You’ll stay here.”
“Or what?”
“Or we’ll cut you off.”
I coughed out a laugh. “Where’s the machete? I’ll save you the trouble and do it myself.”
“Machete?” My mother frowned. “You’ve been stuck in the jungle too long. It’s affected your brain.”
“No. I haven’t. I’ve never understood things more clearly in my life.”
My mother began to breathe heavily, worry flashing over her face. She clasped her hand into my father’s.
His jaw clenched. “You’ll never survive on your own.”
They knew they were losing the battle. But not one ounce of me gave a damn for their pitiful feelings. I spread my arms wide. “Take a good hard look, folks. Already have been.”
Twenty hours later, I flew over the Pacific.
I hadn’t slept. Couldn’t eat.
Everything had changed.
Life had deadened.
And the world wouldn’t come alive for me again until Leilani brightened it.
My phone calls had gone to her voicemail, with no reply from her. Countless texts had gone unanswered. She hadn’t left a note. She’d simply vanished, had fled to where she felt safe.
Eventually, I’d called Makani. He’d heard from her. She’d already caught the first flight available to LAX with a connecting flight to Maui.
Determined to right the wrong, to win her back, I’d caught the next flight out.
And on the plane, I’d wrestled with what I’d done…or hadn’t done. Should I have foreseen her being confronted? Had I left her alone for too long? Why hadn’t I escorted her?
In the end, the glaring mistake finally hit me: I’d gone there in the first place.
My parents, and others like them, ruled the world I’d come from. Always had.
Did I have ties there beyond my parents? Friends who I considered family? Sure.
But even those closest to me played by society’s rules. They accepted the social classes, the hierarchy, the structure meant to protect those that “have” from the “have nots”—at all costs.
I didn’t. Simple as that.
Not like I flew a democratic flag either. Nor socialist. I flew my own flag of independence.
And no matter how pale my skin was, I had more in common with Leilani and Hawaiians than I did with anyone else. All I wanted? To live a simple life, live off the land.
No political games. No manipulation.
What kind of world would we have if instead of putting a priority on taking, everyone decided to give? A great one.
I stared out the tiny window of the plane. Stuck in a metal tube. Thousands of miles above the surface. The higher you go, the greater perspective you have? Bullshit.
Life existed with hands and feet covered in dirt and sand. The power of that life? Water.
Only those who revered all of that, who lived in it, touching it, efficiently using while protecting it, had discovered the true meaning of life. And I wanted to be among them.
Leilani wanted that. She wanted to wander the globe, but to connect with others like her. Not those who valued only the dollar and whose passions were fueled by greed.
Like me, she wanted to be of and for our earth. And more than that, more than anything on the planet, I wanted her.
How do I get her to see that? Believe it?
I had to show her that we fit together—we belonged together.
And although no other place on earth connected with me like her island did—with its generous people, the vibrant land, waves carved from my dreams—Maui hadn’t become my home…she had.
The jet touched down with an uneventful vibration, then taxied to the gate. My truck stood in the space I’d left it, up front near the crosswalks. A too-slow drive to Upcountry to grab what I needed cleared my head but buzzed nervous energy through my veins.
On the way back down the mountain, during what felt like the longest drive of my life, doubt crept in…
Would she listen to me?
Had her father and brothers gotten too deep in her head? Had my parents?
Couldn’t we tell the whole world to go fuck itself and only focus on each other?
Does she love me enough to? My lungs froze, then I forced out a slow exhale.
Yeah, she does—all I would allow myself to believe.
And as I drove with undeterred purpose, along a winding road through towering eucalyptus and vine-covered signs, I forced my fears out of my head and focused on the only thing in my control.
I loved her enough.
We couldn’t care what anyone else thought. No matter the risks, we had to give it a try with all we had. Nothing else would do.
Screw racial prejudice on both sides. All of it—every last biased thought, cutting word, and violent action—had been born of ignorance and fear.
No more fear.
I’d had enough. Had begun my journey away from that concrete jungle, sickened by the shallow-mindedness of greed and hatred. The rest of my life began with my next step. And with every breath, I grew more determined never to look back.
“It wasn’t a mistake,” I whispered, suddenly less angered and more relieved that Philly had played out the way it had. Leilani had helped me learn a valuable lesson: Where I’d come from had played a vital role in shaping who I’d already become. And facing my past hadn’t only been cathartic, it had helped me grow, had solidified in my heart and mind what—and who—I wanted most in the world.
But the eye-opening trip had greatly upset the one person who I wanted most, the one meant for me, the only person on earth who got me on an elemental level.
I needed to right that inadvertent wrong. Hoped I hadn’t fucked it up too badly.
The thought that maybe I’d caused irreparable damage—by not stopping her from leaving, by not protecting her in the first place—constricted my chest. I fought for oxygen as I pulled behind Makani’s board shop and shoved the truck into park.
Trying to steady
my breaths as I walked toward the front of the building, I focused on the only other thing that calmed me: waves. Over and over they tumbled in, coming home, fulfilling their destiny.
I imagined Leilani on an eight-footer. An instant later, all I could picture was me riding a perfect glassy wall beside her—with her—connected to the waves, to the earth. That oneness with ‘āina resided in our bones; it defined us.
But for two lost souls, our rare connectedness hadn’t just grounded us, it had made us a part of each other. Which was why I hurt so badly—because she hurt.
Choking cramp in my throat, heavy weight on my chest, I pushed the door open to her brother’s shop. “It isn’t too late,” I bit out under my breath. It couldn’t be. My hopeful words were drowned out by the deafening buzz of a board sander.
When I pressed the buzzer on the front counter, the sander powered down. Makani appeared from the back room, pulling his mask down and goggles up. “Howzit?”
“Shitty.” But he knew that; I could see it in his eyes. “Where is she?”
“Not wantin’ to see you, brah.”
“I know.” I forced out a breath. “Gotta straighten things out with her.”
He gave a nod of solid agreement. But instead of answering my question, he pulled his mask and goggles back on. He powered up the sander again, blocking me out.
Defeated, I turned around and stood in the doorway. Staring at the ocean, I wondered where she’d go. Her favorite spot at La Pérouse? No. She wouldn’t want to torture herself with memories of our first date.
Ahead, to the left and right, stretched crowded north shore beaches. She wouldn’t be there.
All of a sudden, the sander shut off, right when it hit me: where she’d go.
He reappeared in the doorway. “She’s where you’re not welcome.”
Of course. Under the protection of her people. Where she wouldn’t have to see me, face what we’d done—handle what we’d become.
“You know I’m going there, right?”
“Yeah.” His tone sounded grim. “You got a death wish.”
“Maybe.”
But the time had come to put every maybe to rest. I had to take a stand in a big way, prove what I was made of.
