by Edie Claire
I don’t have to speak it! she had countered, seeing her opening and pushing it. I just want to understand it. Can’t you teach me? I won’t tell anybody. I promise. Please, Kai?
She could remember exactly how he had looked, then. Why could she remember the look on his face so well, even now? She couldn’t picture her own mother’s face at the launderette, but she could see Kai’s dark eyes as clear as day, studying her, sympathizing with her, weighing his options, considering the risk to himself in aggravating his friends, yet feeling for her predicament, perhaps even wanting to make her happy, just because…
Yeah, okay, fine. But you have to just listen and don’t go around trying to act like—
I won’t! I swear!
Maddie smiled. Then and now. “You give it your best shot, Nana,” she said teasingly. “I’m an island girl again. And I intend to get back in practice.”
They reached the old men and Nana stopped short, causing Maddie to nearly trip over her.
“I’ve brought an old friend of yours,” Nana announced, even as Maddie struggled to regain her balance, feeling like an idiot. “Someone who used to live here when she was a child. Any guesses who this might be?”
The old men studied her, and Maddie studied them back. Her eyes lighted on Mr. Li immediately, and she smiled broadly. The Chinese great-grandfather had looked a hundred when she knew him; he looked a hundred now. Had he added another “great” to his title? The eyes that squinted back at her were cloudy, and she realized that he couldn’t see her, and perhaps not much else. “Aloha, Mr. Li,” she called. His face wrinkled with concentration, and the man next to him, whom Maddie recognized as Mr. Kalaw, whispered something into his ear. The kindly Filipino man had aged considerably, and Maddie felt a twang of fear as she noted his sunken cheeks and shriveled limbs. Would he know her? “Aloha, Mr. Kalaw,” she added softly.
Her eyes surveyed the rest of the men, all of whom stared at her practically without blinking, until one of them pulled hastily to his feet. “Akage no Maddie chan!” he called out in amazement.
Maddie grinned, her heart leaping with joy. She recognized the phrase. It was Japanese for Maddie who has red hair. “Yes, it’s me!” she acknowledged. “Maddie Westover. Aloha, Mr. Hiraga! Mr. Puyat. Mr. Yokota…”
The men burst into an explosion of Pidgin, which Maddie tried in vain to follow. Only after several moments of chaos did the men oblige her by switching into standard speech.
“Maddie, child,” Mr. Kalaw said, rising slowly and extending his hand. “Is it really you? After all this time? How old are you?”
“I’m twenty-five,” Maddie replied, stepping forward. She extended her own hand and he pressed it gently in both of his.
“You are bigger now,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Yes,” Maddie agreed. “But I still need money.”
Mr. Kalaw’s shrunken lips drew up at the corners. He leaned down and spoke in Pidgin into Mr. Li’s ear, after which both men laughed aloud. Mr. Li then answered back in a mumbled Pidgin even Mr. Kalaw seemed to have a hard time hearing. But after a moment he nodded and raised his head back to Maddie with a smirk.
“Mr. Li says he can’t chew popcorn anymore. But he’ll lick off the butter and salt.”
Maddie cracked up laughing. As she looked into Mr. Li’s unseeing eyes, tears sprang into the corners of her own. He did remember her. They both did!
So many afternoons Maddie had come to the park for much the same reason the old men did — she was bored and looking for conversation. Or, as they put it, to “talk story.” They seemed to find her amusing, as she did them, and although at first she couldn’t understand their words with each other, over time she came to understand far more of their conversation than they suspected, which made her time at the bench all the more entertaining. Many of the children came to chat and beg for quarters, as was the custom of bored and broke children everywhere, but whereas most came and went, Maddie was far more likely to stay a while, bringing a book to read or simply hanging out on the grassy lawn nearby. She begged her fair share of quarters too, running across the street with glee to purchase something chocolate from one of the markets. There was rarely any spare money around her house for such things, and she was always craving chocolate. She did feel a certain compunction about the begging, however; and so whenever her father gave her money to spend on a weekend matinee at the movie theater, she made a point of sharing. She would buy a giant box of popcorn and then take it, untouched, straight to the old man bench, where old Mr. Li, especially, would be waiting. He loved popcorn. Every time a new movie would come out, he would tease Maddie about looking forward to his treat. As far as she could remember, she had never disappointed him.
“I can’t tell you how good it is to see you again,” Maddie said, bending down and speaking loudly enough that Mr. Li could hear her. “All of you,” she repeated, straightening.
Some of the men began to talk among themselves, and Maddie got the idea that several of them didn’t remember her, and others were trying to jog their memories. She saw a hand held three feet off the ground (she had never been that short!) and then she heard — or thought she heard — something Pidgin which meant “wife of Westover.”
She jumped as Nana barked out a command in a tone that brooked no dissent. The words weren’t clear to Maddie, but she could perceive the gist. Don’t talk about that! Do you hear me?
The same ill-at-ease feeling that had bothered Maddie at the launderette resurfaced. Is that really what Nana had said? Or was Maddie just imagining it? Regardless, why had she spent so many idle hours here, hanging with the old men, when her own house and her own mother were just a few blocks away?
Maddie’s head snapped up. One of the men had mentioned Kai.
“No, no,” Nana replied. “She hasn’t even seen Kai yet. But she’s going back to Maui today, so I’m sure they’ll run into each other again soon.”
More unintelligible Pidgin followed. The men all laughed merrily, and Maddie sighed. She had a feeling she knew that joke.
“Tell us, Maddie!” Mr. Kalaw said pleadingly. “Tell us where you’ve been all these years! What have you been doing?”
Maddie looked out at the faces of the men, all of whom — with the predictable exception of grouchy old Mr. Puyat — were now smiling at her. Mr. Yokota rose and gestured for everyone to scoot around and make room on the bench for her and Nana. The women sat, and Maddie started talking.
Nearly an hour later, after Maddie’s creatively edited recap of her life had been well received and the men had reciprocated by sharing their own family highlights, Nana rose from the bench and announced that it was time to move on. Maddie departed with a light heart, knowing that this time “See you again soon!” was a promise she was fully capable of keeping.
“Oh, Nana,” she gushed as they walked through the thick grove of Cook Island pines that filled the far half of the park opposite the school, “I’m so excited to be living so close! The ferry’s not cheap, but I should be able to afford to come over at least once a month now.”
Nana smiled at her. “Well, you save your money for the ferry, then. You know you can stay with me anytime.”
“Thank you,” Maddie replied sincerely. Nana was walking slower than ever. The long period of inactivity on the hard bench seemed to have taken its toll. Maddie slowed her own steps further and studied the sights. The restaurants on this side were both still open, although the Tanigawa had changed its name, and the buildings all had a fresh coat of paint and colorful landscaping. The little store where she and Kai had once rented videos was now an art gallery with beautiful paintings in its windows, and the front of the old theater had been completely renovated. Maddie smiled. It was good to see the historic structures being taken care of. God forbid anyone should ever turn such a charismatic piece of history into generica.
“What was it they asked about Kai?” she inquired, trying to sound matter-of-fact. In reality, she had been forcing herself to wait at least five minute
s before asking the question. She could have sworn she heard a certain Korean word in the same sentence whose meaning one did not easily forget.
Nana waved the question away. “Oh, one of the men was just confused. They saw you with me and thought you were Kai’s wife from the mainland.”
Maddie’s heart came to a full stop. Then it started again. “Kai is married?”
Nana made a face at her. “No, of course he isn’t married. Did I say that? Somebody said you were Kai’s friend before — how do I know? They’re old.”
“It’s just that I thought I heard—” Maddie sensed she was treading on delicate territory. Then again, there was nothing delicate about Nana. “I mean, what were they laughing about?”
Nana rolled her eyes. “They’re men. What else do they have to think about?”
Maddie decided not to pursue it. But she could not shake the feeling that both Nana and Malaya had some problem or other with Maddie’s getting in touch with Kai again. And since she might not see either one of them again before she went back to Maui…
“Nana,” she asked. “Is there some reason you think I shouldn’t go see Kai when I get back to Maui? I mean, just to say hello?”
Nana’s face flickered with discomfort. “No,” she said evenly. “I’m sure Kai would love to see you. He was always very fond of you. Here we are.” She stopped walking. “The cultural center is in the old administration building, where the court used to be.”
Maddie exhaled a frustrated breath. Whatever the issue was, she would not be getting any explanation out of Nana. At least not today. She looked around. “The post office is gone,” she commented, remembering a small building that used to stand beneath their feet. Then she looked across the street to where Nana pointed. The long, low building looked just as it always had, rather like a camp headquarters.
Nana chuckled. “You have been gone a while. Well, if you don’t mind, child, I’ll leave you here. I need to get to the market, and you’ll want to spend some time at the center. Malaya worked so hard to get it up and running. All the volunteers did. She’s bound to quiz you all about it next time you drop by. If I were you, I wouldn’t miss a single exhibit.”
“I won’t,” Maddie agreed. She reached out and hugged Nana gratefully. “Thank you again, so much,” she gushed, her eyes moistening. “I will be back in no more than three weeks. I promise. I’ll get those ferry tickets if I have to eat nothing but peanut butter and ramen the entire time.”
“You do that,” Nana replied, her own dark eyes watering. “I’ll save you some shrimp.”
Chapter 8
Maddie opened the Nakamas’ refrigerator and unloaded the groceries she had bought. She had no intention of freeloading as an adult after everything Malaya and Aki had done for her as a child. Her available funds were nothing to brag about, but she’d managed to pick out a few treats for the family as well as leave a little cash behind in Nana’s whatnot drawer.
She took a quick, guilty snoop around the main room, hoping to see a recent picture of Kai hanging about that she had missed before, but she was disappointed. She saw no framed photos anywhere. She closed the door and walked outside to the truck, then hopped in with a surge of glee. She liked driving trucks. Her department at Auburn had one they called “the Humpty,” a once-white Ford four-door that had been in so many fender benders it looked like a cracked boiled egg. How she had loved traveling solo, bouncing it about the Alabama countryside! She revved up the engine of the Nakamas’ much nicer vehicle and her eyes alighted on a slight figure leaning against the side of the house.
Maddie leaned out her window and smiled, but Gloria shot her a sullen look and turned away.
Maddie drummed her fingers thoughtfully along the dashboard for a moment. “Hey, Gloria!” she called cheerfully. “Want to come see the kitties?”
The girl made no response.
“Well,” Maddie said playfully, “it’s not like you’re doing anything better right now, is it?”
Silence.
Maddie itched to get going. She wanted to see the refuge, and she wanted to get to the beach. She still had time to do both before catching her boat back to Maui, but only just barely. She’d spent far longer than anticipated at the cultural center, pinpointing the places in her memory on the 3-D map, poring over the pictures and histories of the old Lana'i City families, and pondering what life was like for the ancient Hawaiians who had thrived for a full six hundred years before smallpox and colonialism had ended their way of life forever. She’d had trouble dragging herself away, and now time was of the essence. Still, this was important. She waited.
She waited longer.
Finally, without a word, Gloria got up, walked over, and got in the truck.
Maddie suppressed a smile and pulled out. She said nothing, and neither did Gloria, all the way through the city. They were well out into the countryside, tooling along between the single rows of Cook Island pines, when Maddie first heard the small but defiant voice.
“I don’t smoke pot, by the way,” Gloria announced.
Maddie kept her eyes on the road. She decided to say nothing.
“Well, I don’t!” Gloria repeated. “I tried it once, but I didn’t like it. It made me feel weird.”
Still, Maddie said nothing.
Gloria slouched in her seat. “Just because of Dylan, my parents, like — they think I’m doing all this stuff, and I’m not. Maybe he is — but he’s older. He can do what he wants. That’s his business.”
Maddie turned her head sharply to look out the side window. A Hawaiian owl, or pueo, was flapping silently over the fallow fields. She smiled to herself. Most owls didn’t fly around in plain sight in the middle of the day, but for whatever reason, the pueos didn’t seem to have a problem with it.
“So what’s so great about him?” Maddie asked casually. She really didn’t want to screw this up.
Gloria didn’t answer immediately. Maddie tried not to seem too interested and kept her gaze out the window.
“I don’t know,” Gloria answered finally. “He’s different. He’s been a lot of places.”
“How long’s he staying on Lana'i?” Maddie asked offhandedly. She flashed at quick look at Gloria, and saw that the girl was scowling.
“Till whenever he gets bored of it, I guess,” Gloria said.
Maddie made no response. Right, she thought to herself. Let that sink in.
Gloria whipped around in her seat, facing Maddie. “I mean, like, you drank when you were my age, didn’t you?”
Maddie suppressed the urge to squirm. “Actually, no. And I don’t drink now, either. I can’t afford to.”
Gloria regarded her skeptically. “It doesn’t cost that much.”
“No, I don’t mean the money.” Maddie hesitated, but only briefly. Gloria might as well hear the unvarnished truth. “What I mean is that I can’t afford to slack off and get so relaxed that I lose my better judgment, not around men who are drinking, anyway. It’s in my best interests to stay sharp and be on guard, if you get what I’m saying.”
Gloria was staring at her. “You do get what I’m saying, don’t you?” Maddie repeated uncertainly.
Gloria swore under her breath. At least, Maddie thought they were swear words. They weren’t English, but one convenient thing about having so many languages blend together is that there were always plenty of swear words to choose from. “Seriously?” Gloria said with unexpected sympathy. “It’s that bad? I mean, you actually get grabbed and stuff?”
“All the time,” Maddie said quietly. She really didn’t enjoy discussing the topic. “People make assumptions based on my appearance. They look at the way I’m built and jump to the conclusion that I must have had a boob job.”
“You mean you didn’t?” Gloria blurted, wide-eyed. “They’re real?”
Maddie tried not to sigh. “Yep. This is just the way I am. My mother was built similarly, but I’m a bit more extreme.”
“But your arms are so skinny!”
“No,
they’re not!” Maddie protested. She held the steering wheel with her left hand and flexed her right arm, displaying nicely toned biceps. “That’s all muscle, I’ll have you know. I lift free weights!”
“Okay, okay,” Gloria giggled. “Sorry. I guess they’re not really skinny. It’s just that you’re… well, you’re not fat anywhere else!”
“I am what I am. The problem is that once people assume I paid money and suffered through elective surgery to look like this, they assume I must have done it because I want to attract attention. Specifically, because I must want men I’ve never met coming up to me in public places and making lewd advances. Therefore, it’s perfectly okay for them to do so. After all, I asked for it.”
Gloria stared. “Oh, wow,” she said after a moment. “I never thought about it like that. But you’re right. I thought the same thing. I thought you had a boob job because you were a model. Or maybe a porn star.”
Maddie’s teeth gritted. “You are not the only one.”
“Well, that sucks, then,” Gloria declared, turning to face forward again. “You could always get a bust reduction, you know.”
Maddie made no reply. She was no stranger to that particular nugget of advice, either. She had tired of explaining to people that insurance wouldn’t cover such a thing unless it was medically necessary, which in her case it was not. She had never even attempted to explain her deeper aversion to such a solution — her fundamental resistance to the idea that she should undergo elective surgery to correct for other people’s mistaken presumptions.
“Is this it?” she asked, pointing to a turnoff.
“Yeah,” Gloria replied. “It’s up there and off to the right.”
Maddie turned. They were in an open area of the plateau, where once they would have been surrounded by thousands of pineapple plants. Now they drove down a red dirt road flanked by red dirt fields peppered with wild scrubby green grass, bushes, and low trees. Maddie caught sight of a sign for the Palawai Feline Refuge and pulled off into a red dirt lot. She parked the truck and looked through the windshield.
