Sunset Sanctuary

by R J Castiglione

  “I know you’re close, Adam. You wouldn’t be too far away from that fat fuck of a lover you found. Why don’t you come out and talk to me? I have a present for you that I know you’ll love.” Jeff spat out every word in the same spiteful, deranged way he did in Atlanta when he beat me to a pulp.

  My heart pounded. My lungs burned. The sight of the gun made me dread what might come next, and I stepped back further into the grotto, my slippers catching on a rock, causing me to slip and splash before balancing against the back wall.

  The sound wasn’t loud enough to break the illusion but drew Jeff’s attention as he knelt down and peered into the grotto. He held up a large flashlight, shining it down into the cave.

  While the light nearly blinded me, it didn’t seem enough to overwhelm Popoalaea’s magic. The moment seemed like it would go on forever. All Jeff needed to do was pull out his gun and shoot in the cave to kill me. He had me literally pressed against a wall with no escape. I didn’t want to die. But escaping death seemed impossible.

  Even submerged in ice-cold water, I felt beads of sweat forming on my brow. The pressure of the moment boiled up from within me, causing my vision to narrow. I felt nauseous and knew if the moment didn’t end, if the threat didn’t pass, I would faint.

  And then luck returned to me. Amidst the dead silence, I heard the pitter-patter of tiny feet and the laughter of children coming up the trail from the beach and spotted four flashlights flickering about to light their way.

  The presence of others was enough to chase him away. As he bounded up the trail, his thick boots pounding against the stone above my head, I could breathe again. The illusion still held as my four saviors zoomed by, two children and two adults, all oblivious of what just occurred.

  Once their voices faded completely, the water unfroze and splashed down around me. Warm air rushed into the tiny cave.

  Then, in her full majesty, Popoalaea appeared before me. She floated above the spring, her majestic red dress cascading down to barely graze the water’s surface. I knew she couldn’t talk to me, but the way she smiled, just as she had outside the school during the hurricane, told me I was safe. For now.

  15

  Morning 27

  I awoke from a fitful sleep as the generator outside the guest room roared to life. Recalling what transpired the night before, I vaguely remembered shuffling back to Calder and his family a complete wreck, babbling out what had happened with Jeff, sparing them the details of Popoalaea.

  Leaning up, the thin sheet covering me slid down to reveal a red handprint on my shoulder that I hoped Calder didn’t see as he undressed me and put me to bed.

  I couldn’t recall how we packed up. A fierce rumble in my stomach suggested the cookout was a waste. I only hoped I wasn’t too nutty in front of Calder’s siblings. I wished I didn’t scare them, or anyone else for that matter.

  Rubbing my eyes, I adjusted to the morning light breaking through the window blinds. On the couch opposite the bed, Calder was still fast asleep. I felt glad he was there, in a ‘knight in shining armor’ sort of way, but also guilty at the same time. He didn’t ask for any of this. Now his entire family was mixed up in all my craziness. They had other things to worry about.

  Climbing out of bed, I realized I was completely naked. It made sense. I was soaked to the bone. Pulling my bag off the floor, I picked out the only other change of clothes I had, the ratty pair of jeans I wore when I arrived on Maui, and my favorite t-shirt, a faded red, softer-than-soft shirt with the Flash’s lightning bolt on the front.

  Sometime between going to the bathroom and brushing my teeth, Calder woke up in a daze, the hair on the right side of his head sticking up vertically in the worst case of bed head I had seen in a long time.

  He didn’t say anything to me when I walked back into the bedroom. He just stood up, wearing only his sleep shorts, crossed the room, and wrapped me into a warm, tight bear hug.

  “Thanks for staying with me last night,” I said as I pushed my cheek into his shoulder. I tried to inhale through my nose, to smell that natural scent of his I liked too much, but I was completely clogged up, something that I remembered always happened when I ventured over to the more humid, windward side of the island.

  “You gave us quite a scare. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you…”

  He grabbed me tighter, one arm wrapped around my waist, the other over my shoulder. I didn’t want to let him go. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s not your fault.”

  He let me go after a knock on the door and moved around to dress as his father peeked into the room.

  “Adam. Good, you’re awake.”

  Awake wasn’t the word for how I felt. My shoulder still burned hot from where Popoalaea touched me, as though ice were pressed into my skin for an hour, and my temples ached from what I assumed was a mixture of exhaustion and stress.

  “I’m sorry about last night, Mr. Wright.”

  “Gordon, please. And there’s no need to apologize. When we got home, we called the police. It seems you have a friend willing to drive all the way to Hana in the middle of the night. Officer Lanna is waiting for you in the den when you’re ready.”

  I thanked him, and he left Calder and me alone. Calder tried to comfort me again, but the tension of the moment compelled me to gently push him away. I didn’t need hugs right now. With Jeff still on the run, I didn’t deserve them nearly as much as he offered.

  “I’m sorry,” I said as I began collecting my bag to leave the room. “You were kind to invite me here, but I only managed to put you and your family at risk.”

  He tried to interrupt me, but I held up a firm finger, surprised at how dominant I was being. I usually let others control a conversation. “Before you say anything, I know you were thinking about it. So did your mom and dad. They’re good parents. I wouldn’t be angry if they wanted me gone until this is all settled, one way or the other.

  “Anyhow, my mother is landing in a few hours. I need to get back to the inn. Let me and my family handle Jeff. Until then, I think you should stay away from me. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  Calder tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for me to finish, then launched into a rant of his own as he tore about the room dressing himself.

  “Good. You’re done feeling sorry for yourself and blaming yourself for everything? First, you didn’t put my family at risk. Your crazy ex did. And I’m not the kind of guy who leaves a friend hanging out to dry when he’s in trouble, especially not a guy I care about as much as you.

  “And before you go and suggest that you and your family handle this alone, you should know you’ve been away from this island for a long, long time. Your aunt and Tad are about as close to family as we have on Maui, and I would rather burn in hell than see anything or anyone hurt them. Now that little family of ours includes you.

  “So, sure. You have to see this through to the end. You just don’t have to play the damn martyr and go it alone. Until this whole ex thing is taken care of, wherever you go, I go. This is not up for debate. I will not just ‘stay away from you.’”

  “But what about your family? Your job?” I asked.

  “My family will be just fine. As for work, it sounds like the school will be closed for a while. Now, if you’re done moping around, we should go talk to Officer Lanna. Sounds like she’s been waiting for a while.”

  I followed Calder out of the bedroom, my overnight bag slung over my shoulder. He led me through to another part of the house I didn’t see the day before, a sunken den in the back with a glorious ocean view, a straight line of sight to the rocky coast about fifteen feet below the house’s elevation.

  I peered in the kitchen as we passed and saw Mary, Mason, and Danny sitting down for breakfast. The kids didn’t look fazed at all by what had happened. Danny shot me a giant grin and waved excitedly before returning his attention to his plate.

  Down a small flight of stairs to the den, Officer L
anna and Gordon sat, both enjoying steaming cups of coffee, the scent of the bold brew lingering in the air.

  Just inhaling the smell was enough to wake me up. As I joined them and sipped on a cup poured for me, Officer Lanna went into detail about everything she had learned since the day before.

  “I know it’s hard to hear, but we still don’t know where Jeff Thatcher is. I flagged his name for dispatch and received a report only twenty minutes after Gordon called the police last night. I was able to set up a roadblock on 360 to check every car coming from Hana, but he didn’t take that road. So he’s either still in the area, or he managed to drive route 37 around the south side of the island. There’s also been no sign of him at Keokea.”

  “So, we’re back to where we started?” I asked.

  “Not quite. Thanks to Gordon, I was able to talk to a few people who were at Waianapanapa last night, and they confirmed your report. They did see a man matching Jeff’s description open carrying a firearm. One witness saw him leave the parking lot, heading south on Hana Highway toward town and confirmed he was driving a Honda motorcycle. I checked the vehicle theft records and confirmed a motorcycle matching the description was reported stolen from Kahului, very close to the airport. Right now, we’re canvassing neighborhood watch leaders across the island and issuing his photograph to all markets and hotels. We’ve also submitted our report to television and news radio contacts to warn the public. If he’s listening to the radio at all, he’ll know we’re actively searching for him.”

  “You honestly think that’s going to work?” Gordon interjected. “Throwing a big net over the whole island? Who’s to say he’s not sleeping rough somewhere? Won’t that make him more dangerous?”

  Officer Lanna sighed and finished the last of her coffee. I could tell she hadn’t slept. She looked worn, with puffy bags forming under her eyes. “That’s just as likely, especially since he’s not driving around in a car. Either he’s slipping by our roadblocks by taking dirt trails, or he’s hiding out somewhere in the vicinity. Either way, the fact that he was spotted with a weapon changes things. Do you know if he was legally registered to carry in Georgia?”

  I shrugged. Considering only a month ago he tried to murder me, I knew I wasn’t the best judge of character when it came to Jeff Thatcher. Until he actually landed me in the hospital, I thought he was just abusive, not homicidal.

  “I’ll check on his gun permit to determine if it’s his weapon or a stolen one. In the meantime, having a weapon is enough justification for me to assign you a police detail. Unfortunately, that means you’ll need to return to Lahaina. And don’t forget my offer. I can arrange for you to talk to a social worker if you need to. She’s no therapist, but she’s on our payroll and can help you cope with everything.”

  Calder reached over and gently squeezed my hand. He did his best to put on a smile and cheer me up some. I rubbed the back of his hand with my thumb as I mulled over Officer Lanna’s offer.

  “If anything,” I said, “I think I have too many people to console with, and my mom will be landing in a few hours and will definitely want to talk my ear off. Thanks, though.”

  “Fine, but promise me you’ll get back to Lahaina quickly. I’d escort you, but my partner wants to canvass Hana for a while to see if we can’t track Mr. Thatcher down.”

  “We’ll leave in the next thirty minutes,” Calder said.

  “Good. I’m glad you’re going with him. Once you reach mile marker zero, one of the officers there can escort you the rest of the way back to the inn. Before I leave, do you have any other questions?”

  I shook my head as I stared down at my now empty mug, the remains of spent grounds clumped at the bottom. I pretended for a moment it was tea, and I could read the shapes to predict the future. I hoped to see, I don’t know, the image of a fluffy bunny to comfort me. Instead, the only shape I saw was a clump of brown muck. I remembered Princess Popoalaea, and the last words she spoke to me:

  I need you to be strong and believe that when you need us most, my marchers and I will be there, to unite our strength with yours.

  Now wasn’t a time to sulk around feeling sorry for myself. My mother was coming. I had Auntie and Tad and Calder and so many others looking out for me. Jeff had no one. Even the spirits of the island plotted against him. If last night was the bottom of the curve of my life, I had every reason to believe things from here on would lead me uphill.

  I stood up and held out my hand, thanking Officer Lanna, and followed Calder into the kitchen to grab some food before we hit the road.

  Within thirty minutes, we were back in his truck and pulled out onto Hana Highway. Just as we did, my phone started buzzing like crazy in my pocket as it picked up the first signal since the hurricane.

  While Calder drove, I read through message after message and listened to voicemail after voicemail from my mother and my sister. There were also a dozen missed texts from my boss at the Comic Book shop, followed by a last “If you’re not dead, you’re fired. Don’t bother coming in,” message.

  Then the photos started coming in. First, a picture of me at the supermarket pushing carts, taken from behind a bush. Then a picture of me at the graveyard talking to my mother. Then another picture of Auntie’s car engine with Jeff holding a pair of pliers in view. Then a picture of Calder and me talking outside the town hall. The worst photo came last, one of me alone in my room, standing at the window shirtless, taken from the beach only forty feet away.

  Jeff sent photo after photo of Calder, Auntie, Tad, and me at every place I had gone, every move I had made since my second week on the island, Jeff always managing to get into my shadow without me even realizing it.

  I wondered how he managed to keep track of me. How was he always there? I looked in the rearview mirror and saw no sign of him. I checked through the settings on my phone to make sure I wasn’t sharing my location.

  Calder weaved his truck left and right along the winding highway as I dropped my phone in the cup holder and began tearing through my bag, the only thing I seemed to have with me most of the time. I pulled out and checked each item I carried, then began searching each pocket of the backpack.

  “Adam, what’s wrong?”

  “It’s Jeff! I know he’s tracking me somehow. He has to be! There’s no way he followed me everywhere.”

  And then I found it. A line of stitches on an inside pocket. Behind the stitches, I felt a box the size of a flip lighter. I tore at the stitches in vain. “Do you have a pocket knife?”

  “Glove compartment,” Calder said, eyeing me briefly, concerned.

  I tore through the compartment until I found the knife, unfolded it and got to work, slicing one stitch after another until I freed the device, a sleek, black box that flashed green at the side, barely large enough to fit in the palm of my hand and as thin as a credit card.

  “I knew it!” I said as I tossed the device out the window. “I don’t know when, or how, but he managed to hide a tracker in my bag weeks ago!”

  I continued searching the bag for any other hidden devices and breathed a sigh of relief when I came up empty. I tried to feel relieved, but couldn’t relax. It was a new bag. When did he have the chance to hide the device? Did he sneak into the inn? Did he get to it while I was at work? Was there one in my old bag as well? There most likely was. Otherwise, how did he find me at all?

  A few minutes later, my phone buzzed again, this time with a picture taken from a distance of police cars and officers facing away from him, then another, a selfie of him flashing a gun around the corner from the inn.

  “Fuck!” I yelled, causing Calder to swerve the car.

  “What’s wrong? What is it?”

  “He got past the roadblocks!”

  With no one behind us, Calder slammed the brakes and pulled to the side of the road. We were only a few miles out from the police checkpoint.

  I leaned forward and pressed my head into the dashboard. Jeff was everywhere, threatening everyone I loved. I felt caged, as though he
had trapped me in a prison the size of Maui and was prodding me with a stun baton over and over and over again.

  Calder rubbed my back to try to calm me down. “What do you want to do?”

  “I want to go somewhere he can’t find us, somewhere I can think.” I jumped as a car zoomed, blaring its horn at the sight of us pulled over on the narrow road. Breathing in and out, I tried to piece together some sort of plan but came up empty.

  Calder put the truck back into drive and pulled onto the road again. “I think I know where we can go, but we should stop somewhere safe first to check the truck and make sure he didn’t leave any more surprises. And you should call Officer Lanna. If he’s in Lahaina, they’re wasting time operating the roadblock.”

  “But how did he even have time to get by them?”

  “I don’t know. If he’s on a bike, I can tell you Hana Highway is pretty easy going. If he left right after you spotted him last night, he could have made mile marker zero before the police got there.”

  “Okay. Where do you have in mind?”

  “The Haleakala Visitor Center. It has food, water, and a place to sleep. It should be empty now, and I have the door code for when I worked there. We can stay there the night and come up with a plan tomorrow morning.”

  “I don’t know. Isn’t that kind of risky? If he manages to find us up there, we have nowhere to go.”

  Calder pulled off the road again, this time at a viewpoint with some parking room at the side and hopped out. “It’s up to you, Adam. I can’t make the call for you. You need to decide.”

  As I joined him outside the truck, searching high and low for any sign of a tracking device, I thought about our options. Sure, I could go to the police station. That would make the most sense, but that would just make Jeff go into hiding again. Or worse, he would start targeting my family. So far, the Maui police were great, but the thing about the island was there were plenty of off-the-beaten-path places to hide out, especially with an island low on tourists.