Belleau, Heidi & Vane, Violetta - Hawaiian Gothic

by Belleau, Heidi

  Out of the corner of his eye, Ori could see Kalani’s toes wiggle happily as he announced, “It’s quiet. I’m not scared.” “Me neither,” said Ori. He was, really, but only a little. Beyond the house lights the western Pacific stretched forever black, swallowing all human light. They swung suspended in the borderland, safe for now.

  A soft sound across the dark sky. Not a flight of bats: they would be silent. “Do you think it’s a ghost?” Kalani asked, in a tone of voice that made it seem like he hadn’t meant to say it aloud at all. “Maybe it’s looking for someone it left behind.” Kalani said things like that sometimes. Always watching and waiting: for signs, for spirits, for magic, like the whole world was alive with the dead and their unfinished business.

  A low mournful hoot told Ori that it was just a pueo. Probably. They were supposed to hunt in the day, but maybe it was hungry, or lost. Ori knew there were always a hundred explanations, even if you couldn’t name them yourself.

  “Maybe,” Kalani murmured, and Ori felt Kalani’s hand brush sleepily across his stomach and then drift away.

  * * * *

  2011 A child’s voice, pitched high and pure like a wind chime. Words Ori didn’t understand, either because they weren’t in the right language or the pain had blocked off parts of his mind and he couldn’t feel anything below his waist, but God, the burning above. The child’s face, no longer hungry, only sad. A smudge of Kalani’s blood still on his chin.

  * * * *

  Humans lifted him and carried him to the edge of the rock. Human hands, strong with bone but soft and fleshy, alive. He turned his head to look for Kalani, but the desire never translated to motion. My back is broken. Burning. Still burning.

  White tendrils of clouds curled from clear blue sky to sea and shore, rolling in like a fog and down like dye spilled into water. Birds cried and wheeled among the clouds. The high-cresting waves seemed to soften, and down in their troughs monk seals looked toward the rock with sorrowful, sympathetic eyes. The boy-child leaped from the edge of the rock and fell into the sea, brown skin lightening to smooth silvery fur as he fell.

  * * * *

  He was arranged on his back on the flat of the rock, like a sacrifice. Above him, the sun sent out spires and flares, looming closer than it should be. The shadow of a circling bird spiraled down until its massive wingspan darkened the entire sky.

  The giant pueo—the fierce daylight owl—landed on the rock and its cruel beak half opened. Ori waited for it to eat his heart, but it just cocked its head at him, one eye seeming to take in everything he was and would be. Its black pupil swallowed him.

  Our world is out of balance. We ‘aumakua pass back and forth between life and death and do what we can to make amends. We have fed these kuewa, restored the flow of their mana, and will escort them to their proper homes. It’s time for you to leave, as well. Kalani, to your home in the clouds; Ori, to your earthly body.

  “My mother?” Kalani asked, his voice a hiss of pain but bright with hope.

  And her mother before her. It was time. Ori understood. He’d be sent back to his body and this horrible pain would end, and Kalani would go on, where he belonged. Everything would be set right again. He could do this. He could say good-bye.

  “I can’t,” Kalani said. “Not…not yet. Not until—” We will give you until the sun sets. To choose. To make peace. You killed the god-eating guardian. Take this time in thanks. Decide with a clear mind, unburdened by pain. Know that if you return, there will be more pain, and more choices.Malama pono…

  Ori knew that much Hawaiian. Take care. Be well.

  The wing swept over them, blotting out the sun.

  * * * *

  “Being an ‘aumakua is so much hard work,” said the woman by the pool. She kicked at the surface of the water and sighed. The way she looked right now, lithe and lazy, her beautiful body catching sunlight, she could just be a girl in a bikini on Waikiki beach. Hard to believe she moonlighted as a horrible giant lizard. She combed her hands through her hair. “Caterpillar venom in my western hero, great hunks of flesh chewed out of my Hawaiian one, and broken bones all around. All right, well, being me is hard work—to think, the rest of them would have left you to die if you hadn’t done them a favor first. I sometimes think I’m the only one left here who cares.”

  The pain was already diminishing. The sight of her worked like morphine, a numbing sweetness entering through his eyes and sinking down his shattered spine.

  “You’ll need lomilomifor healing. Massage, the correct herbal oils, and so on. I’ll call in some younger ‘aumakua, some menehune. But I suppose you’re not in the mood to care about the details, poor things. Go to sleep. Shush.”

  * * * *

  The pressure rolled up the arch of his foot, sank into his calves, swirled in soothing circles behind his knees. I can feel my legs again. Too sleepy to open his eyes, he took in the world through his skin, sensing subtle currents of air: a light breeze, puffs of breath. His body swayed suspended. He was warm and safe. A scent like rain and flowers and crushed new leaves curled into his nostrils.

  He should open his eyes. Where was Kalani? Had he gone already? No. Kalani may have made his decision, but he wouldn’t leave without saying good-bye. He wouldn’t be so cruel.

  He let the tide of sleep drag him under.

  * * * *

  “You shouldn’t call her a lizard-lady,” said Kalani, laughing. He’d woken up first and cut Ori a coconut filled with sweet milky water. “She must be a mo’o. Kind of a Hawaiian dragon.”

  Ori drained the last of the coconut and looked around for a trash can, which of course wasn’t there. They were in what seemed like a cross between a traditional Hawaiian dwelling and a fantasy tree house. The pillars were stately living koa trees, the floor was a thick woven grass mat, the roof was high and thatched, and the walls were either open to the pool or hung with a white fabric that rippled in the breeze. Ori placed the empty coconut in a corner and looked around nervously. “A mo’o,” he repeated, rolling the word around in his mouth.

  “Yeah. Crazy.” Kalani hugged himself, massaging his upper arms in a motion that struck Ori as heartbreakingly telling. Kalani was making sure he was still…all there. Ori reached out and touched his upper arm too, softly, reaffirming.

  “I was really worried about you,” he said. “I thought… I really wanted you to run away.”

  “And leave you to die? And that kid? Ori, you just don’t get it. I love you, but you really piss me off sometimes.” Kalani looked straight into his eyes and didn’t flinch away and didn’t lean into his touch either.

  Ori felt like they’d just walked into the strangest territory of all. His shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry?” He didn’t understand. What the hell was he supposed to do?

  “Look.” Kalani gripped Ori’s shoulders, hard enough that a phantom sensation of pain zipped through his bones. “Just look at me. Look at me.”

  There were tears in his eyes. Ori had never seen him frowning so deeply. But he looked. If Kalani wanted him to look, then he would. No matter how much it hurt, how much he wanted to bow his head in shame.

  “Ori, I love you. I love you so much, but I can’t stand this. You come back from Iraq, and it’s like there’s nothing left of you. No, you know what, I don’t think there was anything left of you before you left.”

  Ori wanted to argue. I did everything for you. But the words dried in his mouth, because that was exactly what Kalani meant.

  “Fight for yourself, God dammit!” Kalani collapsed forward, still gripping Ori’s shoulders. He rubbed his forehead back and forth across Ori’s bare chest, looking like a child trying to stir awake from a nightmare. His fingernails dug into Ori’s skin. “Where are you? You’ve gotta still be in there somewhere… Just… Just tell me what you want. Not what you think I want. What youwant.”

  I wanted to go to prom with you.

  I wanted to go to college with you.

  I wanted to live with you.

  I want
ed to be your boyfriend.

  I didn’t want to kill you.

  “I want you to stay,” Ori said. “In the real world. With me. I want… I want you to grow old with me. I want to get fuckin’ married. I’m tired of letting you go.” He pressed the butts of his palms to his eyes and rubbed at them hard. He was long past crying. His face was soaked with tears. “Dammit.”

  “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sosorry. But I had to know for sure. If I’m going back to that busted-up body, I have to know you’re going to be there. All of you. I need to know it’s what you want.” Kalani held him close, the whole of his upper body tense and trembling, just like Ori’s, like they were touching each other for the first time. Finally meeting in the same world. “You broke my heart when you left for basic training. I couldn’t believe I let you walk away like that. I thought I was never going to see you again. I was such a coward. No wonder you’re so screwed up, huh?”

  He laughed, the sound fragile and watery, and Ori realized Kalani was crying too. He clutched Kalani’s head in his hands, tilted his face, and pressed a kiss to Kalani’s forehead. “It doesn’t have to be like this anymore,” whispered Ori. “We got another chance.” That was all he could say. If he opened his mouth to speak again, every emotion welling up inside him would explode, erupt into fire, and burn him to ashes. He took deep ragged breaths between clenched teeth as he held on to Kalani.

  “Yes.”

  Ori sighed; like that one little word was the culmination of his whole lifetime of pain, the tipping point where it would all finally turn to goodness. “Yes, yes.” Kalani kept saying the word in between gasps, in between littering Ori’s face with an overwhelming shower of kisses. “Yes, I’ll come home. Yes, I’ll marry you. Yes, yes. Oh, Ori.”

  He slumped against Kalani’s body and just focused on his breathing, listening to the steady thud of Kalani’s heart. The exhaustion hit him like a brick wall, and he had a feeling it was completely unrelated to his fight with the giant caterpillar and subsequent resurrection. Kalani took a half step backward, sank down onto one knee, and they both fell to the floor, not crashing, but like they’d reached the end of a long, long dance.

  They stared upward at the vaulted ceiling. How many times had they lain this way? This time, they held hands, Kalani’s palm fitting against his own so naturally, fingers lacing warm and firm, weightless and easy. Thick light poured in from the space between the ceiling and the walls. The mat was cool and smooth under his bare shoulder blades and still smelled of living sap. No vinegar here, but it was easy to imagine it, and the sound of that beast of an AC unit too.

  “Do you remember…” he said, too exhausted and giddy to form any more words. Kalani turned his head so they were looking at each other. “I was thinking…” His pupils flickered mischievously to one side. “Well, when we go back, who knows how long my recovery is going to take. Because of the atrophy, you know?”

  Ori’s chest seized. “I’ll be there with you every step of the way. You’ll get better. I’ve seen enough guys do physical therapy. I know how much it can help. People get better every day.”

  Kalani’s mouth quirked in surprise. “I’m not afraid. Well, yeah, I am. I just mean maybe…”

  A different kind of memory: Kalani bucking underneath him, groaning with pleasure. It wouldn’t be easy doing without that for a long time, but what he had with Kalani was so much more than sex. They could make it. But he caught Kalani’s meaning.

  “I want…” Kalani said, and Ori could almost feel the waves of heat radiating off his face and chest. “I want to try fucking you. Before I’m too weak to hold up my own body weight, or—God—what if my junk won’t work anymore, or…”

  Ori’s whole body froze. He tried not to let the tension pass down his arm to his hand, where Kalani would be able to feel his trepidation through the tensing of his fingers. He hadn’t let another man top him since he was a teenager. He didn’t like the way mainland men assumed bottoming must be all he was good for, or his natural role, or whatever other way they justified it to themselves—the way they just grabbed him by the hips and tried to flip or roll him. Thank God he was a good fucking wrestler.

  Kalani hadn’t questioned him. He liked that. He liked being inside Kalani, making him pant and groan and beg. And hadn’t Kalani just made a point of Ori standing up for himself? On the other hand, this wasn’t quite on the same level of giving his life for Kalani’s. If they were going to be in a relationship, a real relationship, then a little give-and-take made sense, didn’t it? And really, what was he compromising here, anyway? It wasn’t like he actively disliked being fucked; it was just the principle of the thing, and Kalani wasn’t like those other guys anyway. He never would be.

  He tried to picture it: Kalani pushing into him from behind, stretching him open with sweet, considerate slowness, building up faster and harder as he realized Ori could take it, as he lost control and lost himself, his breath hot on the back of Ori’s neck, maybe he’d bite Ori’s ear…

  But maybe this was a test. Maybe Kalani—oh God, this was way too complicated. “I’ll wrestle you for it,” he said. “I get you to the mat, I fuck your sweet ass raw.” The dirty talk made his face warm, but he didn’t let his embarrassment show in his expression. “You renounce your sumo ways and get me down, you can have me however you like.”

  “Mm.” Kalani rolled to straddle Ori’s body and pin him to the floor. Kalani was already hard, the underside of his big dick brushing Ori’s as he shifted positions. Ori groaned with unexpected desire, feeling the weight of Kalani’s body on top of him, Kalani’s hands bearing down on his shoulders. God, fuck wrestling. Kalani could have him right now. He lifted his hips. Kalani’s reply was to push down harder with a toothy, predatory grin. “Yeah, all right, I think it’s about time I took you down a peg.”

  It was a shame that Kalani had accepted, really, because now that Ori’s blood was up, he wouldn’t—couldn’t—let Kalani win. His mind shifted into a cool, scientific mode even as his body heated and hummed with the desire to control. “Your feet are loose,” he said, giving Kalani that much.

  “You better not let me win.” Kalani shifted in closer, tightening his legs. “I want to fuck you while you’re fighting me, and I’m not settling for anything else.”

  Ori smiled, showing teeth. “No more teaching. This is the real thing.”

  He kicked his knee into Kalani’s tailbone, bumping Kalani forward. Shot his arm out to one side and made a powerful bridge out of his body. A classic mount escape; Kalani should have known. The speed of Ori’s rising hips threw Kalani off-balance, and in half a second Ori rolled him right under, neatly reversing their positions.

  “Too easy,” he said, countering Kalani’s straining arms with the superior leverage of his elbows. “But this’ll be good too. You like taking my cock so much, I never—”

  Maybe it was the springiness of the grass mat, or maybe the part of his brain that should have been on counterescape duty was occupied with images of sexual positions, but when Kalani bridged, when he gathered in his feet and arched upward, he sent Ori sprawling forward.

  It shouldn’t have worked. Ori cursed under his breath and sprang to his knees just as Kalani came down on him again. Kalani gripped his arms, slid down across the newly sprung sheen of sweat, and tightened the grip above his elbows hard enough to hurt. Ori grunted and surged to his feet. Kalani weighed more, and he could feel all that hard weight tensed against him now, bearing him down, but not inexorably enough, just a touch of wasted energy there, in the feet. It all came down to the feet.

  Ori dipped down, seeming to give way, and scooped up one of Kalani’s legs. He dragged the inside of Kalani’s thigh up to his own waist and grabbed Kalani’s hip with his other hand. Skittered backward. Dance him into submission. Keep him off-balance. Caught up as he was, Kalani had to follow along, hopping one-footed, leaning into Ori just to stay upright.

  Every soft, vulnerable part of him pressed into Ori.

  The next step w
ould be to sweep him up as if to carry him, throw him down instead, spread those smooth-skinned thighs even farther apart, rip off the flimsy malo covering, and claim his prize.

  And then it happened again. The ground fell away from under his feet. Time froze, then sped up once he’d lost his balance, hurtling him facedown toward the green, glossy mat. He struck hard. All the air whooshed out of his lungs. He tensed to roll and spring back upward, fighting even as he gasped convulsively for more oxygen to fuel his struggling muscles. But Kalani’s weight fell on him now, legs weaving between his legs, hands gripping his wrists, heavy breath in his ear.

  “Not fair,” Ori managed to spit out between gulps of air.

  “I’ve been in this world longer than you, Ori. I learned a few tricks. Tap out. Now.” Ori twisted his body helplessly. “Not a chance. You’re just gonna have to hold me

  down and do it. That was what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

  A panting, aggressive laugh. Kalani’s voice, low and hungry. “Do what, Ori?” “Fuck me,” Ori growled back. Saying it like that, with his body at Kalani’s mercy, sent a thrill of anticipation lancing right to his cock, and he didn’t know if it was fear or humiliation or desire, and he didn’t care. He took what give Kalani had left him for movement and used it to shove his ass up against Kalani’s groin.

  Kalani breathed harder and prodded at Ori’s waist and hips. Oh God, he’s stripping me. The malo was just a thin piece of fabric, so having it tugged away shouldn’t feel so threatening, like it was his last piece of armor plate. No, this is right, this is good, let him take it from you. Ori could have fought back, but it would only delay the inevitable. Kalani’s eerie power over the law of gravity would bring him down to the ground again. Was this how Kalani had unbalanced the guardian? He was so strong.