“You’re probably right,” I said. For Ono, nearly all forms of everyday evil could be attributed to substance abuse. I thought it was a rather simplistic way of looking at things, but if it helped him stay clean and sober who was I to argue?
“You busy with weddings?” he said.
I made a rocking gesture with my hand, to indicate “sort of.” “I had a dry spell there for a while after you left but I’m working on one now,” I said. “It’s kind of a weird situation, though.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, it’s two teenagers. They’re both not quite eighteen. When I called about getting a certified copy of the girl’s birth certificate for the wedding license I found the name and date of birth she gave me was for a kid who’d died.”
“What?”
“The birth certificate the bride brought to me is from a dead baby.”
“And she’s been using it all these years?”
“Yeah, that’s what’s strange. She goes to high school at Seabury Hall. I’d have thought they’d require a certified birth certificate to enroll there.”
“You never know,” he said. “Fancy place like that, maybe they let things slide if her daddy flashed enough cash.”
Seabury Hall is a stately private school in Makawao, a bit further up the road from my place in Hali’imaile. The price tag’s steep; more than tuition at the University of Hawaii. I went to Maui Public Schools so I can’t comment on whether it’s worth it or not, but from what I’ve heard, wealthy families will do whatever it takes to get their kids into Seabury Hall.
Of course, for Hawaiian kids there’s another option: the Kamehameha Schools. You need to prove you have native Hawaiian ancestry to apply to Kamehameha Schools, but if you get in, it’s gold. Not only are you guaranteed a first-rate education, but you will forever be able to brag about being a Kamehameha alum. In the islands it’s right up there with being a Rhodes Scholar.
David Onakea, the teen-aged groom I was working with, was a student at the Kamehameha School in Hilo. Lili looked like she would qualify as having Hawaiian blood, but she still might not have gotten in. The Kamehameha Schools give preference to Hawaiian kids who are orphans or come from “indigent” families. Lili’s Sprecklesville address and enrollment at Seabury Hall led me to believe her hanai family was a far cry from indigent.
That gave me an idea. Perhaps before I headed off to the Big Island to search for Lili’s past it’d be wise to learn a bit more about her present. There had to be a good reason why people who spent twenty-thousand dollars a year to send their daughter to a fancy prep school had failed to show even the slightest interest—pro or con—in her impending marriage. Then I recalled the loopy signatures on the parental consent form and it hit me. Maybe they didn’t know.
CHAPTER 5
After about an hour at the party, Farrah and Ono came over to me. They said they were sorry but they had to leave.
“We’ve been gone a long time,” Farrah said. “We need to run by Beatrice’s before it gets too late. I’ll be bummed if Sir Lipton doesn’t remember me.”
“She will,” I said. “Dogs don’t forget.”
Sir Lipton was Farrah’s dog—half-Jack Russell, half-beagle. When Farrah first got the puppy she’d dubbed it “Sir Lipton.” Sometime later she learned the name should’ve been “Dame Lipton.” Even though the dog had more than established its gender by producing a litter of puppies, I’d been unable to convince Farrah to use the correct pronoun. In her mind the dog was a “he.” I’d learned long ago Farrah wasn’t inclined to admit a mistake no matter how compelling the evidence.
“Maybe I should’ve taken him with us,” she said. “He would have liked Tahiti.”
Ono chimed in. “It would’ve been a nightmare dealing with the quarantine laws for all the islands we visited.”
“Yeah, but I still feel bad about leaving him. He likes sailing.”
After another half-hour of hugs and kisses the last of the guests had left.
“Mahalo for doing all that,” I said to Steve.
“Doing all what? I picked up some pupus at the grocery store and arm-twisted a few friends to bring drinks. On the bell curve of parties, this one was two standard deviations to the left.”
“Well, it was still nice of you to get everyone together on such short notice.”
“Oh, honey,” he said. “It was my pleasure. My people are always up for a party. By the way, don’t you think Farrah looks fabulous? Did you see how buff her arms are? Maybe I should take up sailing.” He preened in the hall mirror, flexing his biceps like a well-oiled gym rat at a body-building competition.
“Let’s clean this mess up,” I said. “I’ve got a busy day tomorrow.” I told him about Sifu Doug bringing his niece to my shop. “He said I can call her an ‘intern’ so I don’t have to pay her.”
“Huh. You’d think Doug and Lani would love having a free babysitter for a week,” he said. “They never get to go anywhere.”
“Yeah.”
“The girl must be some kind of wonderful if they’re dumping her on you instead.”
***
I skipped my workout the next morning. I slept in a half-hour later than usual and took my time getting ready. It was silly of me to care what a teenage-girl from Honolulu might think of me, but I couldn’t help it. I changed my clothes at least three times before going out to the kitchen.
“Don’t you look spiffy,” said Steve. He was munching on Greek yogurt mixed with granola. Did I make that much noise when I ate granola? I hoped not.
“I’ve got a busy day,” I said.
“Yeah. More importantly, you’ve got Doug’s reject from the big city coming in to follow you around and drive you nuts. Are those chandelier earrings for her benefit or are you hooking up with Hatch at lunchtime? A little quickie over the lunch hour may be just what you need to get you through the rest of the day with the Honolulu hellion.”
I never wear jewelry. Okay, I rarely wear it. Me sporting bling is a sure sign of distress—like flying the flag upside down or tapping S-O-S in Morse Code on the coffin lid as they’re about to bury you alive.
“I thought these earrings looked kinda nice with this shirt,” I said.
“They’re great. I’m just surprised to see you all dolled up for Doug’s cast-off.” He kept his head down, ostensibly concentrating on his yogurt, but I spotted the smirk.
***
I pulled into the alley behind my shop and parked. As I locked the car doors with a peep, I remembered Farrah would be working at the Gadda for the first time in over two months. I hurried to her back door.
The bell on the door jangled as I went in. Farrah had “belled” both the front and back doors of her store and her apartment to sound an alert whenever someone came in. She wasn’t one for fancy alarm systems or security cameras, but she’d become edgy after an intruder incident a couple of years back. I wasn’t a big fan of the annoying little bells, but I supported why they were there.
“Aloha,” I called out.
“Aloha backatcha,” she said. She came out from behind the counter and we hugged.
“Toast, huh?” I said.
“Yeah, toast. It’s a groovy smell. Like morning time in my mom’s kitchen.”
Like me, Farrah was an orphan. Any reference to a fond memory of her parents was a heartfelt compliment.
“Are you glad to be back?” I said.
“Exquisite.”
I think she meant to say “ecstatic,” but with Farrah, the English language was a liquid, not a solid. It was a fool’s errand to correct her grammar.
“I want to hear all about it, but I’ve got a new girl coming to the shop in a few minutes.”
“New client?”
“I wish. No, it’s Sifu Doug’s niece. She’s here for a few days from Honolulu and he wants me to show her what I do. He made it sound like an internship or a ‘take your daughter to work’ thing, but I think the real reason is he doesn’t want her at his house. Lani’s worried she’ll
be a bad influence on their kids.”
“Whoa. That’s gnarly. Doug doesn’t come across like a dude who’d flame his own ‘ohana without good reason. What’s the four-one-one on this girl?”
“I’m not sure.” I looked up at the Felix the Cat clock on the wall. “But I’ve got a feeling I’m gonna find out pretty soon.”
I went next door, unlocked my back entrance and went inside. Less than a minute later someone began pounding on the front door. Bam! Bam! Bam! It was loud and urgent; like a Good Samaritan warning me the building was on fire.
I ran to open the door and came face-to-face with something you’d find in the prop room of a horror movie. It looked like a shorter version of Gene Simmons from the band Kiss in full stage make-up. Or, upon closer inspection, it looked like a teenaged girl in black lipstick with bluish-white face paint and bright green hair molded into stiff six-inch spikes. It looked like a lot of effort had gone into trying to stand out—or embarrass her parents.
Sifu Doug stepped out from behind the girl and smiled. “Pali, I’d like you to meet my niece, Kaili. Kaili, this is Pali. You’ll be spending the rest of the day together.”
My chandelier earrings had started to pinch as I stuck out my hand. Kaili ignored the gesture and shouldered past me into the shop.
“Yeah. Well, I might stay,” she said. “Or, I might not. You got any coffee around here?”
Sifu Doug gave me an apologetic shrug. “I’ll be by to pick her up at five.”
“Make it four,” I said. “I’ve got to go to Lahaina and get some stuff.”
“Ah—” Doug began.
“I want to go to Lahaina,” Kaili interrupted. “In fact, I want to go anywhere besides this stupid Podunk town.”
I shot stink eye at Doug.
“Kaili’s not used to small-town life,” he said. “She was born and raised in Los Angeles. She’s only been in Honolulu the last six months.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Welcome to the freakin’ middle of the ocean. Kids here are so lame. It’s like being in a damn time machine or somethin’. Like nobody here even knows what century it is.”
“I’ll let you guys get acquainted,” Doug said. “And Pali, after you two get back from Lahaina why don’t you bring Kaili up to my place in Pukalani? I have to be home by five-thirty to help Lani get dinner started.”
I’d stepped in my own mess. I didn’t need to go to Lahaina. And Doug knew it. Handing me the responsibility of hauling Kaili all the way up to Pukalani rather than allowing Doug to pick her up when he wanted to was, in effect, a counter-punch. Sifu Doug was a fourth-degree black belt with a trophy case crammed with glittery gold reminders of all the martial arts tournaments he’d not only won, but dominated. I should’ve known better than to try to outmaneuver him.
I half-expected him to lift his arms in triumph. Instead, he flashed me a smile, winked, and walked out.
CHAPTER 6
Kaili fingered a showy rhinestone headpiece Lili had left out on the top of my glass sample case. “Who’d wear something this ugly?” she said. She held it up to her throat like a dog collar.
“That’s not a necklace,” I said. “It’s a headpiece. It goes like this.” I reached out to take the sparkly band from her so I could demonstrate how it should be worn, but she whipped it away, jabbing me with her elbow in the process. The jab triggered a reflexive response. My hand shot out and I grabbed her wrist and jerked her arm up behind her back. She dropped the headpiece to the floor and I released my grip.
“Wow, you hurt me,” she said. She rubbed her wrist and scowled. But as we stood there, staring each other down, I saw something behind her smudged black Kohl-lined eyes. It didn’t come across as anger or pain; in fact, it looked a lot like respect.
“You do martial arts with my uncle, don’t you?” she said.
“Yeah. I started training in kung fu when I was a little kid. I think my auntie took us kids there to give her a few hours of peace and quiet. But I liked it. I kept practicing through college and I still go to the guan almost every day.”
“Yeah, that’s what Uncle Doug said. He said you have a black belt and everything.”
“I do.”
“What’s it take? You know, to get a black belt?” she said.
“Why are you asking me this stuff? Your uncle’s the master. Ask him.”
“He’s a dick.”
My hand flew out and gripped her wrist again. This time I didn’t pull her arm up behind her back, but I squeezed hard enough to cause pain.
“Okay, we need to get a few things straight here,” I said. “First of all, your uncle is my sifu, my teacher. The only reason you’re here today is because I respect him. That means I do what he asks me to do. I don’t argue, I don’t whine, and I sure as hell don’t call him names or give him lip. You said you wanted to come to my shop and work. That’s fine. But by extension, I am now your sifu. So, you’ll do what I say. You will not give me lip. And you will honor your uncle with the same respect I give him, or maybe even a bit more. You got it?”
Her eyes remained downcast. “Let go of me.”
“I asked you a question.”
“I’m not going to talk until you let me go.”
“Fine.” I yanked on her arm and began hauling her toward the door. “You’re leaving. Now.”
“Okay,” she said, pulling back.
“Okay, what?”
“Okay, I won’t give you lip. But you need to quit hurting me.”
“Oh, honey, you don’t know the first thing about hurt.” I pressed harder. I could feel her wrist bone yielding under the pressure.
“Yow! This is child abuse. I’m gonna call the cops.”
“Go right ahead.”
I grabbed the door knob and was about to jerk the door open when she said, “Can you teach me to do that?”
“Do what?”
“Get somebody to back off like that. I really want to know how.”
I let go of her wrist. “Why?”
She started to cry. Fat tears, tinted gray by the black eye make-up, snaked down her cheeks. In a matter of moments, deep furrows had divided her chalk-white face into something resembling a Picasso painting.
I leaned in and put my arms around her. She didn’t pull away.
“I hate it here,” she said. By now she was sobbing. I could only imagine what her melting make-up was doing to the front of my shirt. “Everything sucks.”
“I know of at least four million people who would dispute that,” I said.
“Four million?”
“Yeah, at least four million people pay big money to come here on vacation every year. They’d say you’re one lucky girl—to be living in Hawaii full-time.”
“Well, they don’t have to go to school with kids who hate them. Kids who call them a stupid haole and spit on them.”
“Somebody spit on you?”
“He spit on my backpack.”
“Probably just a bad aim,” I said. “Surfers are big on hawking loogies after they’ve swallowed half the ocean. Sometimes they miss.”
She looked up and a thin smile emerged. Her face was still a mess, but she was starting to look more like a kid and less like a hate crime.
“I grew up here,” I said. “I can help you learn what you need to know to get along. That is, if you want.”
“You’ll teach me how to survive high school in Hawaii? It’s not like it was in L.A. I fit in there. They treat me like a freak here,” she said.
“Yeah. Trust me, every place is different. I went to college on O’ahu after growing up here on Maui so I know what I’m talking about. Honolulu can be a tough town. You gotta be tougher. And you’ve gotta make a better effort at fitting in. I can help you with that.”
She hugged me. “You’re the nicest person I’ve met since we moved here,” she said. She rubbed her wrist. “But you’re also the most dangerous.”
“Oh, no. That distinction goes to your uncle. If you ever saw him fight in a tournament there’s no way yo
u’d ever call him names. That dude’s put people in the hospital.”
“Seriously?”
I nodded.
“What’d they do?”
“They challenged him in a tournament. They even paid money for the privilege.”
“That’s stupid,” she said. “Why would somebody do that?”
I shrugged. “Who knows? But here’s an even bigger question: why would someone as cute as you dye her hair green?”
***
I put Kaili to work sorting invoices into neat file folders while I made some phone calls. First I called Hatch.
“Hey, what’re you up to?” I said.
“Not much. Have you got time for lunch? How was Farrah and Ono’s party?”
“It was great. They look so happy,” I said. “Sorry you couldn’t be there.”
“Yeah, me too. So, how about lunch?”
I walked out back so I could talk privately. I told him Sifu Doug’s teenaged niece was working in my shop with me.
“So? She doesn’t need a babysitter, does she? Can’t you get away for a quick lunch? Or if you want, she could come too.”
“Would you mind bringing lunch in? We could have an indoor picnic—just the three of us. I’m not quite ready to parade Kaili around town. ”
“What gives, Pali? The girl got two heads or somethin’?”
“You’ll see,” I said.
Hatch arrived an hour later with fish and chips from the Pa’ia Fish Market. He spotted Kaili at the back of the shop and then looked at me. He tapped his head and then held up two fingers.
“I guess I was right,” he said in a whisper. I introduced them.
“Pali says you’re a fireman,” she said.
“Yep.”
“You like it?”
“Love it. It doesn’t pay much, but it’s a great job.”
“Do you sleep in your clothes?”
He shot me a puzzled look. “Uh, no. But we keep our bunker gear ready to go. I can be ready to roll in less than a minute.”
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