Paradise Wild (Wild At Heart Book 2)

by Christine Hartmann

“December. Maybe longer.”

  “It’s quiet season now, yeah? More winter visitors come after Thanksgiving and Christmas.”

  “Are you from here?”

  “Upcountry.”

  “Where’s Upcountry?”

  The driver pointed left, toward the enormous, distant volcano. “Up there. Up Haleakala.”

  “That’s Haleakala? I thought it would be higher.”

  “Ten thousand feet. Just looks short from far away.”

  “Does it get snow?”

  “Sometimes. They close the roads if there’s ice.” The driver was silent for a while. “You heard about the changes on Maui? We have Target and T.J. Maxx now.”

  Ellie stared at her. “You didn’t have them before?”

  “They’re new. Big grand opening last year. Traffic was crazy.”

  Ellie thought about Bay Area traffic jams and took in the intermittent cars passing them in the opposite direction. Maui must have a different definition of congestion.

  The driver pointed at the wide, red-dirt fields on either side of the highway. “No more sugar cane. This year’s the last harvest. The company’s closing down. No more sugar from Hawaii.”

  Ellie stared at the vast openness, empty except for weeds. “What are they going to use the land for?”

  “Don’t know. It’s, like, thirty-six thousand acres. They say maybe agriculture. Lots of people lost their jobs.” The driver shrugged. “Could be dust storms later. Or maybe they’ll build houses.”

  At the agency’s main office, Ellie gripped Viv’s leash tightly as a different attendant than her driver disappeared to get her car. Viv stalked back and forth along the pavement, antsy since his glimpse of the office fish tank. He stopped and cocked his head at a high-pitched engine squeak from around the corner. Salt-glazed headlights preceded a cracked hood, mottled roof, and dingy tires. Ellie’s eyebrows fell.

  “This is my car?”

  “Two-thousand ten Nissan Sentra. Yeah.” The attendant gazed at Ellie placidly, seemingly used to a less than ebullient initial reaction.

  Maui sun beat down on white paint that had never seen the gloss of a wax job. She opened the door. The interior looked okay. The dashboard had been recently polished. Viv pushed past her, leapt on the seat, stretched toward the headrest, and began sharpening his claws on the upholstery.

  “No. Bad cat.” Ellie scooped him into her arms.

  “You want an upgrade?” The attendant held up his clipboard.

  Devora’s admonition not to go crazy with the business credit card rang in Ellie’s mind.

  “No. I’m sure it runs fine.” Her eyes shifted from the paint to the wheels. “Right?”

  “Yeah. And if it breaks down, you call us 24/7. We come anywhere on island. Give you a new one.”

  Ellie pulled slowly out of the lot. “Somehow, Viv, his words weren’t exactly reassuring.”

  Viv meowed.

  “Got it. First things first. Food.”

  After a detour to a grocery store that could have come straight out of the Midwest, Ellie set her phone’s GPS for Dr. Lovejoy’s house. Her mood brightened as she cruised at twenty miles an hour past palm trees, open air restaurants, beach parks, barefooted men carrying surfboards across crosswalks, and a sapphire ocean that stretched to the horizon.

  “Welcome to paradise, Viv.”

  She watched the laid-back beach town atmosphere of South Kihei gradually transform into the manicured, high-end hotel atmosphere of Wailea. The road widened. Instead of a straight shot past restaurants, public parks, and condominiums, it wound languidly between golf courses and tall hedges above which peeped grand roofs. The ocean views disappeared behind gated, beachfront properties. Cars were larger and drove faster.

  As their destination grew closer, her heart raced. She pointed at the enormous monkey-pod trees shading the road. “This, Viv, is what money looks like. Tough, I know. But we’ve got to get used to it.”

  The directions pointed her to a narrow road heading toward the beach. Ellie slowed to ten miles an hour, reminding herself that there would never be another first time to drive up to this house. She turned off the air conditioning and opened the windows. The sweet scent of mock orange blossoms drifted into the car. She willed herself to breathe more slowly.

  “Your destination is on your right.” The voice from the GPS sounded inappropriately neutral.

  Ellie turned on her blinker and slowed to a crawl.

  That’s it.

  She braked and backed up a few yards to where a short driveway led to a large metal gate with embossed bamboo shoots. She pulled the car in front of it, got out, and inserted the key Devora had given her into the grimy lock. The gate creaked loudly as it swung open into the property.

  Ellie wiped her hands and jogged back to the car.

  I’m here. This is so awesome.

  Her grip on the steering wheel tightened as she eased the car forward. The house came into view on the right.

  “Oh my God.” Ellie jerked the car to a stop and laid her hand across her mouth. She closed her eyes and then opened them again. The house was still there. “Viv, that mother of yours is a piece of work.”

  Her gaze ranged rapidly over the large, overgrown structure that would be their home.

  “She sent us to live in a dump.”

  Chapter 4

  Ellie parked the car in the middle of the overgrown drive. Tropical vines encroached on all sides, covering much of the asphalt. She removed Viv from his carrier and let him wander, leashed, at her feet while she absorbed the dilapidated property.

  “I bet the last time anybody called this home, people still went to Blockbuster.”

  The garden that lay between Ellie and the ocean evidenced former organization, even beauty. Overgrown floral bushes flowed along the edges in a pattern reminiscent of waves. A dry fountain lined with lava stones supported a life-size Hawaiian woman gracefully captured in mid-dance, her hula skirt billowing around her tapping feet, her arms raised to the sky. A small cream-colored guesthouse stood to the left of the fountain against the border of hedges. Beyond that, the ocean sparkled blue and clear, with two islands, one small, and one large, visible in the distance.

  The main house stood back from the drive with a view of the garden and water. It was an expansive one-story structure with a red tiled roof that arched into Asian-looking peaks. Vines squeezed the massive square pillars of the wide wooden porch and clambered across the floor, where a lone deck chair lay on its side, sprawled like a parched traveler left to desiccate.

  Ellie pulled a reluctant Viv up the steps.

  “Welcome to the Maui Bates Motel.”

  Floor to ceiling windows shone with reflective one-way glass. Ellie stuck her tongue out as she passed. Devora’s second key fit the tiny lock of the massive carved door that swung open noiselessly to Ellie’s push. She inhaled the musty air.

  Viv yanked free. She watched him chase something scuttling along the wide hallway.

  “Don’t even think about bringing that back to show me.”

  Ellie walked into the corner living room to her left and flipped each of the many switches by the door. Recessed lights illuminated the large, empty room. Overhead ceiling fans turned noiselessly. Blinds retracted.

  At least Devora came through. The electricity is on.

  Ellie turned the latches on the windows closest to her and slid them along their runners until they clicked into place. A fragrant breeze wafted through the screens and stirred her blouse. She sighed.

  “Viv? Where are you?”

  Muffled meows led her to the kitchen at the back of the house where the cat sat on the counter, the corners of his mouth curved around a struggling gecko. When he spied her, he jerked his head toward the ceiling and gave her a leer that said, See what I’ve got?

  Ellie lunged for his leash, but he dashed away before she could catch him.

  She leaned on the dark granite counter.

  “You little monster. Don’t let that thing go.�
��

  She felt something crawling up her arm.

  “Eek. Ants.” She swiped at them viciously, turned on the lights, and surveyed the room. The floor and counters were littered with tiny black dropping the size of small rice kernels. Ant highways trailed along baseboards, up walls, and across the ceiling. The refrigerator was warm inside and she couldn’t find a microwave, but the sink produced both hot and cold water and the gas stove worked.

  In the master bedroom, she sat on the bare mattress and texted Devora.

  Ellie: Arrived. House is a dump.

  Devora: Keys work?

  Ellie: Yes but house is filthy.

  Devora: Electricity on?

  Ellie: Yes but bugs in kitchen and massive cockroaches in bathroom.

  Devora: Live ones?

  Ellie: Not anymore.

  Devora: Mattress there?

  Ellie: Yes but nothing else.

  Devora: Lost ur credit card?

  Ellie: No.

  Devora: So get to work.

  Ellie sent an emoji with its tongue sticking out.

  Devora: Viv pass inspection?

  Ellie: Yes. He’s lovin’ the bugs.

  Devora: Right. Stand ur shoes up at night. Helps keep out poisonous centipedes.

  Ellie: WTF. How much she pay for this place?

  Devora: Over 4M.

  Ellie: She got shafted.

  Devora: Location. Remember, ur in paradise.

  Ellie wandered toward the front of the house, opening every screened window along the way. When she reached the porch, she righted the deck chair and called Celine.

  “Thought I might hear from you about now. Been to the beach yet? Show me some video.”

  I should show you a video of the kitchen. I know how much you love the six-legged set. Instead, Ellie switched to a video call and panned across the long garden.

  “Awesome.” Celine’s face registered genuine astonishment.

  “See all the vines? The place needs serious work. And not only outside. The inside’s a disaster area.”

  Celine brushed her hand across the screen as though chasing away an annoying fly. “Did you see those flowers? And the ocean? Walk me over there.”

  Ellie traipsed across the lawn. Celine informed her along the way about the plants they passed—sago palm, plumeria, pendent heliconia, ornamental bananas, blue ginger, longhorn.

  “When’d you get your botany degree?”

  “My mom loves gardening.”

  “My mom loves ancient Greek.”

  “Less practical. Now walk into the water and tell how warm it is.”

  Ellie kicked off her sandals and pointed the phone at her toes. She clambered over the black lava rocks that littered the shore’s edge.

  “Ouch.”

  “Be careful. Don’t drop me.”

  Ellie laughed. “I appreciate the concern. You should have come inside when you dropped me off at the airport. I knocked over a whole row of those metal posts they have to mark the lines.”

  “Sorry I missed it.”

  Ellie reached a sandy section and stepped into the smooth, clear water. “Wow. It’s warm.”

  “How warm?”

  “Not quite like a bathtub. But comfortable.”

  “It’s so clear.”

  “The sand is soft.” She wiggled her toes to bury them.

  “How soft?”

  “Well, not like a rabbit. Kind of like…cream of wheat?”

  “Thanks for the image of your feet in my breakfast bowl.”

  “How about a plush towel?”

  “Better.”

  Ellie watched her own legs on the screen, her navy linen capri pants legs ballooning in the gently flowing ripples, her deep red toenails shimmering in the afternoon sun. She sighed.

  “I heard that. Sounded like the sigh of someone in paradise.”

  Later, back on the porch, Celine suggested Ellie make a Target run.

  “Your immediate problems are nothing a little elbow grease and Clorox can’t fix.”

  Ellie nodded slowly. “And ant traps. Do you think they make gecko traps?”

  “Probably.”

  “Should I leave Viv here by himself?” She turned the phone to show Celine the image of Viv throwing himself high against the living room wall to catch a gecko.

  “He knows where his litter box is?”

  “I showed it to him.”

  “Then leave him. That cat thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. And if they don’t sell gecko traps, you’re going to be glad he got a head start on his new job.”

  ***

  Ellie pulled into an empty section of the Target parking lot so she could sit and admire the West Maui mountains glowing in the late afternoon light. Her hair blew in all directions when she exited the car, obscuring her vision. She held it back with one hand and typed into her long shopping list, “Hair elastics.”

  Inside the store, beyond an initial section of Hawaii-themed goods, she felt as though she’d never left San Francisco. The clothing and jewelry departments mirrored what she’d last seen at the Target on Geary Boulevard. She pushed a shopping cart along the aisles, throwing additions on the bulging tower of items. Mattress cover, sheets, towels, cleaning supplies, mousetraps, and soap jostled with a coffee maker, a blender, toys for Viv, and groceries.

  She examined the prices of refrigerators and weighed the relative merits of buying one she could lift by herself with buying one that would hit Vivyenne’s pocketbook with a kick she might register as payback for sending Ellie unprepared to a dump. A man’s voice broke in.

  “They might be cheaper at Costco.”

  Ellie looked up to see a heavy-set man with an astounding tan set off by startlingly white hair.

  “Don’t mean to give advice, eh? But Costco’s sometimes cheaper for big items.”

  “They have Costco here?”

  “Since 1995. Upgraded in 2012. Got gas now too.”

  “Gosh. Thanks.”

  The man nodded and pushed his cart away.

  People are friendly in Hawaii.

  At the checkout, Ellie, distracted by the candy shelves, said “yes” to the cashier’s question about needing bags.

  Why wouldn’t I need bags?

  She added gum and chocolate bars to the pile, paid, and only then noticed the heap of red dotted recyclable bags mounded in her cart.

  She stared at the cashier. “Don’t you have plastic bags?”

  “No plastic bags in Hawaii. Only paper or recyclable.”

  “And you don’t have paper?”

  The cashier smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.”

  Ellie laughed. “No worries.” She fingered a mass of handles. “I always wondered what I was going to leave my grandkids. Now I know.”

  Dusk settled across the island as Ellie drove home, the passenger seat next to her occupied by a belted-in mini-fridge. Pineapples, bananas, and a king-size bottle of rum peeked out of a cardboard box alongside a large bag of ice. In the bright kitchen at the back of the house, she unpacked paper towels to the music of IZ Kamakawiwoʻole’s ukulele on her phone. After scraping from the counter what a solicitous Costco employee suggested was probably “only” gecko poop, she scrubbed the surface with bleach and deposited the blender. Next she chopped a pineapple, its scent evocative of her first summer in California.

  For an instant, an image of a blanket spread near a rose garden in Golden Gate Park filled her mind. She saw Elliot stretched across it, gazing at the cloudy sky. She remembered the taste of the sweet fruit mingling with the bitterness that welled in her mouth in response to his words.

  “Just because we’ve been together since high school, Ellie, doesn’t mean we have to be together forever.”

  In the Wailea kitchen, Ellie shook her head and turned up the music.

  I came here to get away from all that.

  Viv lay stretched in the corner, sated from dinner and exhausted by more exercise than he’d had in the past months put together. He regarded her through half-closed
eyes. Ellie sloshed coconut cream, rum, ice, and pineapple chunks indiscriminately into the blender. Her fingers hovered over its plastic levers.

  “Plug your ears, baby. This cleaning crew needs an incentive.”

  The cat yawned, laid its head on its paws, and turned its ears flat when the screeching began.

  After three hours of cleaning, close to midnight, Ellie regarded the voluminous kitchen trashcan, filled to the brim with sodden paper towels. She pushed strands of sweaty hair from her forehead with a yellow-gloved hand.

  “I quit.”

  She traipsed to the porch and leaned against the vines snaking up a supporting pillar. The crash of ocean waves on the beach echoed louder in the dark, as though the sea had crept up the lawn in the night, like a living creature eager to explore. The air was still warm, a soft breeze bending the tops of the palm trees near the house, their silhouettes barely visible in the light of a crescent moon.

  Using the flashlight on her phone, Ellie carefully picked a path across the middle of the yard. She steered clear of the eerie shrubbery. The forgotten Hawaiian dancer, appearing suddenly on the fountain in the semi-darkness, made her jump. She rolled her eyes at herself.

  Nobody out here but you, Ellie. That’s what Vivyenne paid the big bucks for. Privacy.

  From the sound of the ocean, Ellie imagined large breakers smashing against the shore. But at the water’s edge the surf appeared the same size as during the day, with only the stillness magnifying each reverberation. Too used to the city, Ellie couldn’t help but turn toward the house, scanning the darkness for the sign of another person, straining her ears above the waves to check for footsteps, unable to quell completely the sense that she wasn’t alone.

  Give it a rest. It’s just like that night with Alberto. Nobody was out there then, either.

  She thought back to that night only a few years ago when she had wanted nothing more than to drive straight to their cramped studio apartment after closing the microbrewery for the night. But Alberto had steered the car to a neighborhood near Ocean Beach, parked in a friend’s driveway, and walked with her to the shore. Ellie’s exhaustion masked her nervousness until they stood alone on the vast, dark expanse of sand, the San Francisco night enveloping them like a thick, damp, uncomfortable sheet. She struggled to make out sounds above the consistent crash of the waves.