by Terri Farley
They both looked at the cigarette. “I am quitting these things,” Dee insisted. “Tell Tutu I’ll be there in just a minute.”
Darby ran on ahead.
What are you afraid of? Darby asked herself. Hurting her feelings like she’s hurt Cade’s a million times?
Darby toed off her boots and left them on the front porch.
She heard Tutu mixing things in the kitchen, but the first thing she said was, “Dee’s here, is she?”
Darby nodded.
“And you haven’t told her about Honi yet?”
Darby shook her head no.
“Since she’ll be looking for another job, I’ve been thinking of getting her to help me on my rounds.”
“But what if she keeps stealing, Tutu?”
Her great-grandmother looked up with a dreamy smile and said, “Ah, but what if she doesn’t?”
This family gave second chances, Darby reminded herself.
Since she’d been given lots of them herself, she guessed it was fair to offer a couple to Cade’s mother.
“Hey, Tutu!”
Darby jumped as Dee sauntered into the kitchen.
“Your great-granddaughter says you remember me from when I was a kid. I’m flattered. I sure remember you.”
The warmth in Dee’s voice startled Darby, and Tutu returned it.
“How are you, Dee?” Tutu asked.
Dee shook her flattened palm from side to side. “Eh. Not so great, to tell you the truth. I’m sure you’ve heard about Manny getting arrested. Having him gone is a blessing, but it’s left me a little high and dry cashwise, if you know what I mean.”
Darby was shocked at how honest Dee was being with Tutu and how quickly Tutu laid out her deal.
“So, I’d learn to be a nurse after all?” Dee asked.
Tutu nodded. “I’d do my best to teach you what I know,” she said humbly.
“I could do that,” Dee agreed, nodding. “I could really learn to be something worthwhile.” Dee laughed as if she’d made a totally ridiculous statement, then added, “Might as well, since I’ve got nothing better to do.”
Darby hoped her great-grandmother knew what she was getting into.
Tutu let Dee’s acrid laughter hang in the kitchen for a moment before she spoke.
“Actually, your first patient is waiting, and I’m sorry to say—”
“Not Cade!” Dee pushed up from her lazy position leaning against the kitchen counter.
“No.” Darby jumped in before Tutu could.
“Then—” Dee shook her head. Confused, she looked between Tutu and Darby. “Who?”
“It’s Honi,” Tutu said gently. “I’m afraid she’s rather sick.”
In minutes, Dee and Tutu were back in the round pen.
Dee dropped to her knees and stroked the pony’s dusky mane.
“There’s my baby,” she crooned tenderly. “I missed you so much. Does my girl have a tummyache?”
Dee reached into the back pocket of her jeans and dug out a smashed bag of peppermint horse treats. Darby guessed they were probably filched from the feed store as a parting gift from Dee to Honi, but now wasn’t the time to say so.
Honi’s eyes opened wide, taking in Dee first and then the peppermint.
Dee held out a treat to the pony. Honi craned her neck forward, twitching her lips for it. Dee kept speaking soothingly to the pony, backing away inches at a time, moving just far enough out of reach to tantalize Honi.
The pony stretched.
Without waiting, Tutu threw her slight frame against Honi’s haunches. Darby was about to join her when Honi struggled to her feet.
Dee rewarded her with the treat and quickly took out another bribe.
When Honi sidestepped unsteadily, almost falling, Dee’s face contorted with worry. Her arms flashed out as if she’d catch the pony, and they came together.
It was amazing, Darby thought, how they helped each other regain their balance.
A lot can change in twenty-four hours, Darby thought. This time yesterday Honi could barely walk. Now, she trotted around her pen, insulted that she hadn’t been included in the party that was in progress on the lanai above her.
Cricket had phoned with the news that the horses didn’t have salmonella. Those at the Animal Rescue barn, and probably most of the humans and horses on the island, had been infected by waterborne bacteria that had given them what amounted to a two-day flu.
Even better, Cade and Dee were getting along and making plans, with Jonah’s help. Tutu had allowed Kit to drive her back to her cottage on his way into town to see Medusa. And Cricket.
But Darby sat in the pastures below Sun House in the darkness and the rain, watching for her horse.
Before the sun had gone down, she’d tried calling Hoku to her by tightening her ponytail. It was their signal. Hoku had chosen it, and it had worked just two days ago.
Now Hoku chose to ignore it and Darby didn’t blame her. Hoku couldn’t understand that Darby had driven her out of her home for her own good.
Every muscle in Darby’s body strained to keep her upright, though she could have lain down on the wet grass and slept.
Like shadowy ghost horses, the cremellos moved across the moonlit grass, but Hoku was nowhere in sight.
Don’t be pupule, Jonah had told her. She’ll come to you.
But the moon had traversed the black sky, trailing silver cloud skeins, and still Hoku didn’t come to her.
And then she heard it.
The faint nicker that belonged only to Hoku made Darby stand.
It came again, and Darby began walking toward it. The sound of her boots swishing through the long grass covered other noises.
She stopped until the nicker came again, higher this time.
Darby held out her hands, hoping that even in the dark, her filly could see she carried no striking snake rope.
As the other horses parted for her, Darby walked through the broodmares and drowsy foals, threading her way between Cash and Judge, who’d discovered they had a lot in common as they grazed side by side.
And then, silvered by moonlight, Hoku stood alone before her. Waiting.
Darby didn’t say a word. She listened to her filly’s even breaths. Hoku wasn’t a bit scared. She was teasing.
And even as Darby increased the tempo of her steps, bouncing on tiptoe toward her horse, then jogging, then running, Hoku waited.
Grab mane. Push off. Swing over.
The instant she was astride her wild sorrel filly, Hoku ducked her head, not to buck but to run under a low-hanging branch, carrying the human she trusted above all others into the night.
Darby’s Dictionary
In case anybody reads this besides me, which it’s too late to tell you not to do if you’ve gotten this far, I know this isn’t a real dictionary. For one thing, it’s not all correct, because I’m just adding things as I hear them. Besides, this dictionary is just to help me remember. Even though I’m pretty self-conscious about pronouncing Hawaiian words, it seems to me if I live here (and since I’m part Hawaiian), I should at least try to say things right.
ali’i—AH LEE EE—royalty, but it includes chiefs besides queens and kings and people like that
‘aumakua—OW MA KOO AH—these are family guardians from ancient times. I think ancestors are supposed to come back and look out for their family members. Our ‘aumakua are owls and Megan’s is a sea turtle.
chicken skin—goose bumps
da kine—DAH KYNE—“that sort of thing” or “stuff like that”
hanai—HA NYE E—a foster or adopted child, like Cade is Jonah’s, but I don’t know if it’s permanent
haole—HOW LEE—a foreigner, especially a white person. I get called that, or hapa (half) haole, even though I’m part Hawaiian.
hapa—HA PAW—half
hewa-hewa—HEE VAH HEE VAH—crazy
hiapo—HIGH AH PO—a firstborn child, like me, and it’s apparently tradition for grandparents, if they feel like it, to j
ust take hiapo to raise!
hoku—HO COO—star
holoholo—HOE LOW HOW LOW—a pleasure trip that could be a walk, a ride, a sail, etc.
honu—HO NEW—sea turtle
ho’oponopono—HOE POE NO POE NO—this is a problem-solving process. It’s sort of cool, because it’s a native Hawaiian way of talking out problems.
‘iolani—EE OH LAWN EE—this is a hawk that brings messages from the gods, but Jonah has it painted on his trucks as an owl bursting through the clouds
ipo—EE POE—sweetheart, actually short for ku’uipo
kanaka—KAH NAW KAH—man
kapu—KAH POO—forbidden, a taboo
keiki—KAY KEY—really, when I first heard this, I thought it sounded like a little cake! I usually hear it meaning a kid, or a child, but Megan says it can mean a calf or colt or almost any kind of young thing.
kupuna—COO POO NAW—an ancestor, but it can mean a grandparent too
lanai—LAH NA E—this is like a balcony or veranda. Sun House’s is more like a long balcony with a view of the pastures.
lau hala—LA OO HA LA—some kind of leaf in shades of brown, used to make paniolo hats like Cade’s. I guess they’re really expensive.
lei—LAY E—necklace of flowers. I thought they were pronounced LAY, but Hawaiians add another sound. I also thought leis were sappy touristy things, but getting one is a real honor, from the right people.
lei niho palaoa—LAY NEEHO PAH LAHOAH—necklace made for old-time Hawaiian royalty from braids of their own hair. It’s totally kapu—forbidden—for anyone else to wear it.
luna—LOU NUH—a boss or top guy, like Jonah’s stallion
mahalo—MAW HA LOW—thank you
malihini—MUH LEE HEE NEE—stranger or newcomer
menehune—MEN AY WHO NAY—little people
ohia—OH HE UH—a tree like the one next to Hoku’s corral
pali—PAW LEE—cliffs
paniolo—PAW NEE OH LOW—cowboy or cowgirl
pau—POW—finished, like Kimo is always asking, “You pau?” to see if I’m done working with Hoku or shoveling up after the horses
Pele—PAY LAY—the volcano goddess. Red is her color. She’s destructive with fire, but creative because she molds lava into new land. She’s easily offended if you mess with things sacred to her, like the ohia tree, lehua flowers, ‘ohelo berries, and the wild horse herd on Two Sisters.
pueo—POO AY OH—an owl, our family guardian. The very coolest thing is that one lives in the tree next to Hoku’s corral.
pupule—POO POO LAY—crazy
tutu—TOO TOO—great-grandmother
wahine—WAH HE NEE—a lady (or women)
Darby’s Diary
Ellen Kealoha Carter—my mom, and since she’s responsible for me being in Hawaii, I’m putting her first. Also, I miss her. My mom is a beautiful and talented actress, but she hasn’t had her big break yet. Her job in Tahiti might be it, which is sort of ironic because she’s playing a Hawaiian for the first time and she swore she’d never return to Hawaii. And here I am. I get the feeling she had huge fights with her dad, Jonah, but she doesn’t hate Hawaii.
Cade—fifteen or so, he’s Jonah’s adopted son. Jonah’s been teaching him all about being a paniolo. I thought he was Hawaiian, but when he took off his hat he had blond hair—in a braid! Like old-time vaqueros—weird! He doesn’t go to school, just takes his classes by correspondence through the mail. He wears this poncho that’s almost black it’s such a dark green, and he blends in with the forest. Kind of creepy the way he just appears out there. Not counting Kit, Cade might be the best rider on the ranch.
Hoku kicked him in the chest. I wish she hadn’t. He told me that his stepfather beat him all the time.
Cathy Kato—forty or so? She’s the ranch manager and, really, the only one who seems to manage Jonah. She’s Megan’s mom and the widow of a paniolo, Ben. She has messy blond-brown hair to her chin, and she’s a good cook, but she doesn’t think so. It’s like she’s just pulling herself back together after Ben’s death.
I get the feeling she used to do something with advertising or public relations on the mainland.
Jonah Kaniela Kealoha—my grandfather could fill this whole notebook. Basically, though, he’s harsh/nice, serious/funny, full of legends and stories about magic, but real down-to-earth. He’s amazing with horses, which is why they call him the Horse Charmer. He’s not that tall, maybe 5’8”, with black hair that’s getting gray, and one of his fingers is still kinked where it was broken by a teacher because he spoke Hawaiian in class! I don’t like his “don’t touch the horses unless they’re working for you” theory, but it totally works. I need to figure out why.
Kimo—he’s so nice! I guess he’s about twenty-five, Hawaiian, and he’s just this sturdy, square, friendly guy. He drives in every morning from his house over by Crimson Vale, and even though he’s late a lot, I’ve never seen anyone work so hard.
Kit Ely—the ranch foreman, the boss, next to Jonah. He’s Sam’s friend Jake’s brother and a real buckaroo. He’s about 5’10” with black hair. He’s half Shoshone, but he could be mistaken for Hawaiian, if he wasn’t always promising to whip up a batch of Nevada chili and stuff like that. And he wears a totally un-Hawaiian leather string with brown-streaked turquoise stones around his neck. He got to be foreman through his rodeo friend Pani (Ben’s buddy). Kit’s left wrist got pulverized in a rodeo fall. He’s still amazing with horses, though.
Cricket—is Kit’s girlfriend! Her hair’s usually up in a messy bun and she wears glasses. She drives a ratty Jeep and said, to his face, “I’m nobody’s girl, Ely.” He just laughed. She works at the feed store and is an expert for the Animal Rescue Society in Hapuna.
Megan Kato—Cathy’s fifteen-year-old daughter, a super athlete with long reddish-black hair. She’s beautiful and popular and I doubt she’d be my friend if we just met at school. Maybe, though, because she’s nice at heart. She half makes fun of Hawaiian legends, then turns around and acts really serious about them. Her Hawaiian name is Mekana.
The Zinks—they live on the land next to Jonah. Their name doesn’t sound Hawaiian, but that’s all I know.
Wow, I met Patrick and now I know lots more about the Zinks. Like, the rain forest—the part where Tutu told me not to go—used to be part of the A-Z (Acosta and Zink!) sugar plantation and it had a village and factory and train tracks. But in 1890, when it was going strong, people didn’t care that much about the environment, and they really wrecked it, so now Patrick’s parents are trying to let the forest take it back over. They hope it will go back to the way it was before people got there. I still don’t know his parents’ names, but I think Patrick said his dad mostly fishes and his mom is writing a history of the old plantation.
Oh, and that part Tutu said about the old sugar plantation being kind of dangerous? It REALLY is!
Patrick Zink—is geeky, super-smart, and seriously accident-prone. He looks a little like Harry Potter would if he wore Band-Aids and Ace bandages and had skinned knees and elbows. He says he was born for adventure and knows all about the rain forest and loves Mistwalker, his horse. He’s not into his family being rich, just feels like they have a lot to pay back to the island for what their family’s old sugar cane plantation did to it environmentally. He likes it (and so do I!) that they’re letting the rain forest reclaim it.
Tutu—my great-grandmother. She lives out in the rain forest like a medicine woman or something, and she looks like my mom will when she’s old. She has a pet owl.
Aunt Babe Borden—Jonah’s sister, so she’s really my great-aunt. She owns half of the family land, which is divided by a border that runs between the Two Sisters. Aunt Babe and Jonah don’t get along, and though she’s fashionable and caters to rich people at her resort, she and her brother are identically stubborn. Aunt Babe pretends to be all business, but she loves her cremello horses and I think she likes having me and Hoku around.
Duxelles Borden—if you lined up all
the people on Hawaii and asked me to pick out one NOT related to me, it would be Duxelles, but it turns out she’s my cousin. Tall (I come up to her shoulders), strong, and with this metallic blond hair, she’s popular despite being a bully. She lives with Aunt Babe while her mom travels with her dad, who’s a world-class kayaker. About the only thing Duxelles and I have in common is we’re both swimmers. Oh, and I gave her a nick-name—Duckie.
Potter family—Ann, plus her two little brothers, Toby and Buck, their parents, Ramona and Ed, and lots of horses for their riding therapy program. I like them all. Sugarfoot scares me a little, though.
Manny—Cade’s Hawaiian stepfather pretends to be a taro farmer in Crimson Vale, but he sells ancient artifacts from the caves, and takes shots at wild horses. When Cade was little, Manny used him to rob caves and beat him up whenever he felt like it.
Dee—Cade’s mom. She’s tall and strong-looking (with blond hair like his), but too weak to keep Manny from beating Cade. Her slogan must be “You don’t know what it’s like to be a single mom,” because Cade repeats it every time he talks about her. My mom’s single and she’d never let anyone break my jaw!
Tyson—this kid in my Ecology class who wears a hooded gray sweatshirt all the time, like he’s hiding his identity and he should. He’s a sarcastic bully. All he’s really done to me personally is call me a haole crab (really rude) and warn me against saying anything bad about Pele. Like I would! But I’ve heard rumors that he mugs tourists when they go “off-limits.” Really, he acts like HIS culture (anything Hawaiian) is off-limits to everyone but him.
