Haole Wood

by DeTarsio, Dee

  “Honey, my mother and my grandmother were healers,” Lois finally said. “They used kukui nut oil, just like your grandmother. My mother distilled it into its purest form and added other stuff, like belladonna or something, to kill rats and such.” She crossed her legs and worked her toes to flap her flip-flop mid-air. “I think some people are more sensitive to it than others, and it seems like Mike was one of those. In a lesser concentration, it can be used to treat upset stomachs, to clean out the bowels, you know, unclog the drain.” Lois may have had ten years and twenty pounds on me, but she lapped me in the smooth-talking department. She slid her hand against her neck, underneath her thick, brown hair. She lifted her head a fraction, as if daring me to ask more stupid questions.

  The other women laughed at their leader. Lois shrugged, slurped her tea and then wiped her mouth with my grandmother’s delicate napkin. I stared some more. Lois twisted her napkin, one end opposite to the other, leaving a long, folded crumpled length of cotton. She placed it next to her plate and stood up. “Thanks. Now we’ve got to get to work. We’re going to try to make ten more wraps today.”

  I nodded. What just happened? Something niggled at me, like a fine hair trapped under my T-shirt that I couldn’t reach that drove me crazy. My mother always called me the princess and the pea, the slightest irritation always chafed my skin. I thanked them and watched them walk down the hall. I got up and started clearing the plates. I took them to the sink carefully before I hand washed them. I put away the leftovers, in case anyone would want to take a break later. I started to pick up the napkins and came to Lois’s twisted one last. The others kept their napkins folded, pretty much the same way they had been laid out. Shayna hadn’t even used one. My grandmother’s looked barely used. Mine had lipstick marks all over it, damn it. I’d have to pre-treat it so the stains didn’t set.

  At the end of the day, true to their word, the women completed ten more sunshminas. I planned on taking them to Jac’s office, and promised to pay them in full, one way or another, by the end of the week. At least Halmoni’s pretrial had been postponed for a few more days. Thank goodness for island time.

  Chapter 26

  Sale Away

  “All ready for your big day?” My guardian angel looked like he was using an invisible straw to siphon the ketchup off my plate of hash browns.

  I nodded. “Yes. I hope it goes well. I love my sunshmina like a security blanket. It’s pretty, goes with anything, feels so soft and airy, and it truly does protect me from the sun—I’ve got the science to back it up. They really should sell.”

  “You have done your homework.” He pretended to dab at his eye. “Your personal growth is exceeding all expectations.” With that he disappeared before I had a chance to let loose on him. Even though he knew how to push my buttons, he was pretty entertaining. I gulped my tea, grandmother’s special blend of the day, and headed out the door for my ten-minute drive up to Ka’anapali.

  Walking into the cool, breezy open atrium at the hotel, I felt like I was on the first day of a new job. My table was set up to one side of the main lobby, nestled on the stone floor, surrounded by pots of lush, tropical plants. Guests at the hotel, at some point or another, would have to walk by me. There were other tables set up with island artists’ wares, palm frond place mats, coconut shell purses, water colors and paintings. At least I was the only clothing vendor. I liked how my table looked. I covered it with the Hawaiian quilt from my bed that my grandmother made, it’s blues, reds, and greens surrounding the white whip-stitched flowers, fit perfectly. I arrayed a few of the shimmery sunshminas over the tabletop, some of the ends sashaying in the breeze. I cut some red hibiscus flower blooms and banana leaves from my grandmother’s yard and arranged them in a hollowed out pineapple I cored that morning. Doesn’t get much more Hawaiian than this, I thought. I wore my own green sunshmina. My sign stood on an easel next to the table: “Haole Wood Sunshminas, protective resort wear wraps for sensitive skin – SPF 30,” and was matted inside an old hand-carved picture frame I rustled from the back bedroom closet.

  All I needed was a sale, or twenty.

  I straightened up as a pink tourist approached. Her ruddy cheeks glistened with sweat. A white sun-hat wrapped around her strawberry blonde curls, its wide brim obviously failing to do its job. She looked like she had on her husband’s cast off pale blue oxford shirt, over a mid-calf white gauzy skirt. Her sandals didn’t look very comfortable. She had to shuffle to keep the brown leather straps on her feet. Her toes were hanging on for dear life, looking like survivors on an overloaded life raft, adrift on ten foot waves. Ohio or Iowa, I bet myself.

  “Hi, Aloha,” I said. “How are you?”

  The woman stopped and peeked over her sunglasses. “Fine, I guess.” She fingered the ruby sunshmina on the table.

  I went into my spiel. I spread my arms, “. . . And I love mine. You have the same fair skin as I do, and this sun here is strong.”

  “Where were you earlier this week?” she asked. “We’re leaving tomorrow. But, how much?”

  “Three hundred dollars,” I said.

  “Nah. I blew my wad already and I really don’t need anything like this back home.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “Idaho,” she told me.

  I knew it, I thought. “Sure you don’t want it back there for this summer?” I tried.

  She laughed. “This is gorgeous, but not quite ready for Idaho, don’t you think?” She was still laughing as she shuffled away. “Good luck,” she called back.

  Me and good luck had nothing in common. The day dragged on with plenty of people stopping and touching, but not buying. I honestly tried to help one woman who had the strangest tan lines I have ever seen. She caught me staring and explained, “I was reading a book and fell asleep.”

  Purposely not staring at the perfect white-skinned right angle on the woman’s chest, I made my pitch. “You could really use this.”

  “I know,” she said, walking away, her flip-flops thwacking, showing the back of her calves, one with a straight-edge line of pink, the other leg sporting a Rorschach blot of red amid a freckled sunscreen protected background.

  I finally had to call it day and managed to keep my tears at bay as I drove home. One look at my Halmoni’s face released the tropical drizzle down my cheeks.

  “I didn’t sell a single one.”

  “Not that,” was all she said, handing me a cup of tea.

  “I hope you crushed some Xanax or something like that in this brew,” I said, taking a big swallow. I burned my tongue, the perfect ending to a perfect day. “I was so sure these sunshminas were a good idea. I don’t even think it was the price. People just didn’t seem interested.” I felt like a little kid who had missed her afternoon nap and was winding up for a temper tantrum. “Maybe they are too expensive. Who knows? Maybe this was all just a giant waste of time.”

  I dried my tears, slurped my cooled tea, and knew what I had to do. Time was up.

  Chapter 27

  I Dream Of Genie

  I ran upstairs and slammed by bedroom door so hard the toilet bowl had a minor tsunami.

  “Don’t get your knickers in a knot,” pronounced my guardian angel, sitting cross-legged on my sister’s bed.

  “How about you just get some knickers,” I said, flinging a towel at him.

  He caught it and draped it over his head and stroked the ends, pretending it was long hair. “Do you believe in love?” he sang, stroking the towel, a la Cher.

  “Shut up!” I said, “You are in a strange mood today, but I’ve had enough. I’m done. Finished. Over and out. I can’t do this anymore.”

  “Can’t do what?”

  “You, for starters. Stop appearing to me, stop haunting me, or whatever the hell you are doing. You’re not real. Just be gone. I never want to see or hear from you again.”

  “Oh, and that is a fine way to be treating your protector of the universe.”

  “Now you’re Irish? For once, just leave
me alone. Be gone.” I folded my arms over my chest and boinked my head at him. As I did, I heard the unharmonious thwank sound effect that always happened when Barbara Eden’s magic wasn’t working on I Dream of Jeannie.

  “You are unbelievable, you know that?” I wrenched open a drawer, its warped sides screeching upon wooden runners. “You are fiction, something made up by my overtired imagination. Am I so filled with self-loathing that you, as my guardian angel, are the best I could come up with?” I pulled out a clean T-shirt and my skirt. “I’ve had it. I’m not seeing you anymore. I’m not hearing you anymore, I’m not listening to you anymore.”

  He stood up, dropping the towel on the floor. “Jaswinder, Honey-Girl. Come on. You do not mean that. What do you think you are doing?”

  “I’m taking a shower. Then I’m going to call my parents, and beg them for help, once again, to restart my life, once again. I just can’t keep wasting time here. I’ve failed. I know, big surprise. News flash.”

  “You are giving up already?”

  “What choice do I have? I need to learn when to cut my losses. I don’t have the luxury of money or time to try to make this work. I told myself if I only sold one today, that would be a good start. But come on, I’m listening to the universe here, I didn’t sell any. I’m in over my head. It’s time to let my parents know I’m waving the white flag so they can make plans.” I folded my sunshmina and placed it on my bed. “Even if I would charge half-price, they would still be too expensive, and no one would buy them. I don’t mean to be a defeatist, but face it. I’m not an entrepreneur.”

  I stomped around the room. “My parents are just going to have to come out here and help Halmoni. I’m going to have to borrow more money, to pay off Lois, to get my ticket back home. Do you know I don’t even have enough money to buy Ramen noodles?” I bit my lip.

  “How arrogant was I to actually think I could pull this off? I’ve let so many people down, Lois, the Marys, Shayna. Myself, my parents. And what about my grandmother? My poor Halmoni. I can’t help her and it breaks my heart. I have no idea who killed that guy. Maybe she did do it, what do I know?”

  I marched into the bathroom looking for my makeup case. I twirled around. “Give me that,” I said grabbing my mascara back from my guardian angel who was feathering his lashes.

  He fluttered his eyes at me. “Do I look like Dr. Jac?”

  “Stop it!” I flung myself on my bed. The pillow soaked up my tears, though I felt like I was drowning. I tried to turn my head away from the soggy mess but an unrelenting pressure pushed my face deeper into the pillow. He was trying to kill me. I thrashed and kicked my legs, my head immobilized by the lobster grip of his giant hand, pincing me into the pillow. My elbow made contact with a fleshy fold, driving into what felt like a day-past-its-prime mango.

  “Oof,” he said, releasing his grip.

  I spun over and sprung off the bed, gasping for air. “You were trying to kill me.” I panted and gulped in a deep breath. I wiped at my nose with the edge of my shirt. “Why? Haven’t you done enough? Surely you’re not supposed to kill me? That would be a major screw up, even for you.”

  “Kill you?” His voice protested like a herd of parrots. “Bless your heart. What are you talking about? I am comforting you.” He stroked his own head, smoothing down his black curls. “You know, like nice Jaswinder, nice Jaswinder. It will be okay.” He paced the room. With his bulk he pretty much could only march in place.

  “I cannot believe your attitude,” he continued, wrinkling his brow as if he were confused. “All I get from you is grief about how terrible your life is. ‘Oh, woe is me,’” he said in an exact match of my own voice on my whiniest day. He stopped pacing and shook his finger at me. “For someone you say you do not believe in, I have become your biggest punching bag. You abuse me at every turn.” He took on my voice once again. “Oh, no! What’s going to happen next? What happened last week? What do you know? Help me, help me, help me!”

  I took a step back. “Sorry,” I whispered. “You’re right. I know, I’ve been riding my broom around and taking it all out on you. It’s been a rough week, alright? And today was really hard, too. I’m just so disappointed in myself.” I sat on the bed. “But, why can’t you help me? Isn’t that what guardian angels are supposed to do?”

  He jabbed his finger at me, his sparkling brown eyes now just sparking. “You may think I am no prize in the guardian angel department, but sister, let me tell you, they are not lining up for the golden opportunity to be your guardian angel, either. I am sick of your negativity. It is draining. Quit your whining. You are in Maui. Grow up.” He shut his eyes. I wondered if he was praying.

  “Yes. I am praying. I am praying for you, you ungrateful . . .” He groaned a big mournful sound, shaking his hands up in the air. “I tried. I tried.”

  “Listen,” I said, speaking in a hushed calming tone. “If you could just tell me—”

  “Enough!” he bellowed. “I am not telling you anything. It is not in the rules.”

  “I don’t understand you or what you are doing here, then,” I said, waving him off. “The universe does not seem to be doing me many favors right about now,” I added. “You seem like a nice, friendly enough guardian angel, but I need more from you. Surely, you can understand that?”

  He just stood there, shaking his head at me.

  I tried again, hating the sound of my own voice, wheedling as if I were a teenager, needing a new cell phone. A thrill of fear reminded me this was a much bigger deal than an adolescent angst for better technology. A man has been killed, for Pete’s sake, and worse, heaven forgive me, my grandmother was about to take the fall. All I asked for was a clue. One little clue as to what I should do. He could point to something, or write it out . . . he didn’t even need to specifically spell it out. There are ways around the rules, and we all know it.

  “Give me a hint. No one needs to know.”

  “I am warning you. Stop right now.”

  I held up my finger and thumb, squished together. “Just one little suggestion. A random thought. An idea . . . Anything.”

  He exhaled so loudly my hair blew back.

  “But, just—”

  “Girl. I swear. I knew I should have opted for reassignment when I had the chance. Damn.” He pounded his fist into his hand.

  “Come on,” I kept at him. I knew exactly what I was doing. I would wear him down. This was a game I knew how to win. “I’m just asking you for a little proof here. Just give me something to let me know that you are who you say you are. I mean people just don’t come face to face with their guardian angels. You have to admit, you can understand why I think I’m going crazy, can’t you?” I just had to get him to buy in and agree with me.

  “You are beyond belief,” he roared. “And you are making me crazy. I have never felt this throbbing powerful energy before. Is this anger? It is so tempting and tantalizing in its awfulness. I do not want to feel this way but the seductive pull of its dark energy is luring me into losing control. Must. Stop. It.” He put up his hands as if he were Superman fighting against kryptonite.

  “Anger is defeat,” he told me, trying to smile.

  “All I want to know,” I began again.

  “No!” he raised his voice again, seeming to fill my room even more. “That is it. You have pushed me too far. Trust me. You get everything you need. All you need to know is that the miracles you want are not usually the miracles you receive.”

  “But—”

  “Enough.”

  “What does that mean? What miracles?”

  “Stop it, I say.”

  “Why can’t you give me a hint?”

  “For the love of Siddhartha, I beg you to stop.”

  “Why are you so angry with me?”

  “I am not angry. We do not get angry. We are unable to experience the emotion.”

  “But you said you were starting to.”

  He heaved a deep breath, as if he were going pearl diving. “I could have been your sis
ter’s guardian angel before you came along, did you know that? Her guardian angel has a sweet assignment. Put her on autopilot and call it a day. Do some meditation, salvage some souls, peace out. But me? I have you. On call every rotation in the orbit. If you only knew all the trouble I have kept you free from.”

  “Then tell me. Why can’t you? Surely you have some magic or something to show me. Just give me one little hint about what I should do. I don’t know what’s going to happen and that freaks me out.”

  I thought I’d try a different tactic. “Some guardian angel. You have not been pulling your weight, have you?” I’m ashamed to say I really widened my eyes when I said the word weight. Mean, I know. But, I was on a roll. “Why couldn’t I have my sister’s guardian angel? Why can’t I get some good news? Why won’t you make something good happen for me?”

  “You spoiled little brat. Ho‘omanawahui. Be patient. The Hawaiians would say you are ua ka ‘a niniaui ka wili wai.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Swirled about by whirlpooling waters. Can’t you just be still for once, and let the mud settle?”

  My breath caught in my throat.

  “Why?” He continued. “You have no idea of all the things I have done for you. If only you knew how much worse things could be.”

  “Then why don’t you do one more little thing?” I couldn’t stop challenging him. “I’m in a tough spot here. If you are who you say you are, why can’t you help me?”

  He stared at me, his nostrils threatening to inhale the curtains, fluttering at the window. His brown skin spurted beads of water. His dimples became angry indents of dislike.

  “You want me to do something?” he said so softly I could barely hear him. “You want me to do something?” he said a little louder. “You want me to do something?” he shouted. His size seemed to inflate even more, like a Harry Potter special effect, or spell gone bad.