“Yeah. That would be perfect.” He slammed his door shut and walked quickly over to where I stood on the opposite side, grabbing both my hands in his. “Think about it. You could fly back with me to LA and I could get you booked into a lab where we could run every kind of test under the sun. We could totally get to the bottom of this.” His excitement was palpable, it came at me in waves.
I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
“But Leila, why not? What’s keeping you here? You’ve left Nafanua and the others. They can’t stop you. And to be honest, I would be more comfortable if you were a thousand miles away from them. I think they have a few screws missing upstairs, if you know what I mean – no offence. I know she’s your mother and everything. But, honestly, why do you need to stay in Samoa? What would keep you here?”
I stared at him, my mind a-swirl with questions and possibilities. Jason was right. Why did I need to stay here? I hadn’t been very truthful with him about my reasons for leaving Nafanua’s house. I had only told him the bare minimum, making it sound more like a typical mother-daughter spat. The nightmares of telesā wielding lightning to raze a village to the ground, were mine alone to bear.
As he waited for my answer, I considered all the arguments. I had cut myself off from the telesā and their supposed offers of help with training my powers. I wasn’t as worried as I had been about exploding ‘accidentally’ and killing people. Heck, hadn’t I just proven that I had a handle on this fire stuff by getting through Jason’s preliminary tests without setting him on fire? Yes, I could leave. If I really wanted to. What was keeping me in Samoa? I thought of Matile and Tuala with fondness. They were the closest thing to family that I had ever come to since my dad. But I knew they were worried for me. They knew, or at least suspected what Nafanua could do when she got angry and they would feel a lot better if I was far away from here. No, if I told them I was leaving today – tomorrow, next week – they would be relieved. I thought of Grandmother Folger and almost laughed out loud. Ha. She would pay anything to get me to leave this place and return home to ‘civilization.’ I looked at Jason and his still-waiting, expectant face. Grandmother would even be enthused I had made friends with such an intellectual overachiever. If she knew about Jason she would be hoping against hope that some of him would rub off on me, inspire me to get my butt in gear and go to college. I had told Nafanua that I was leaving the country, so why was I still here? I pulled my hands away from him and looked away, out over the fast setting sun.
At burnished red draped over lush green. Daniel. His name was a stab, ‘a steel knife in my windpipe. ’ The very thought of him took my breath away. The very possibility of leaving here, of never seeing him again was like standing on the quivering edge of an endless precipice. Not wanting to fall but flailing against empty air for a safe hold. Reaching, trying to cling to that which would give me balance. Give me hope. Give me life.
Daniel. I was here for Daniel. And the realization tore at my insides, mangled my very core. Because, very simply, Daniel was my reason for living. Even though I couldn’t be with him, I could not, would not, live without him. I could not explain why this was so. I did not know where the absolute certainty came from. But it was there. I just knew it. Like I knew I was Leila. And the sooner I was rid of these flames then I could try again to be with him. That is, if he still wanted me.
Jason was still waiting for my response. I shook away my thoughts and managed a weak smile at his expectant face. “I’m sorry Jase. I was – umm – thinking.” I took a deep breath and let the words rush out over each other. “You’re right. I can go with you. It’s the best chance, the only chance I’ve got for getting this stuff sorted out, right? I can spend a bit of time in LA while you run your tests and then I’ll pop back to D.C. to visit my grandmother who is hating the very idea of my being here in Samoa anyway. And then …” my voice died away as I considered my future. Did I really have any options? Did I really have choices? “And then I’ll probably come back here.”
“You mean when we’ve figured out a cure for you?”
“Yes.” My heavy heart lightened to a skip and jump as I thought about the possibility of being rid of my fire. Of being able to hold Daniel, kiss him, love him. “Yes, definitely. If we can put a lid on this thing then I will come back.”
“Aha.” Jason studied me with an unreadable expression, like there was something else he wanted to ask me. Then he pushed it aside and smiled lightly. “It’s a date then. I’ll talk it over with the team so we can confirm our travel dates and then I’ll let you know. Are we agreed?”
I nodded. “Yep. Agreed. Now you’ve got to take me home or else my life won’t be worth living when Matile gets her hands on me.”
That night after dinner and dishes, after I’d said goodnight to Matile and Tuala and gone to my room, I dialed Daniel’s number. The sound of his voice cut through me. Both raw and delicious at the same time.
“Hello?”
I held my breath and was silent, not trusting myself to speak in case I melted into tears. A heavy pause.
“Hello? Leila? Is that you? Are you there?”
I wanted to speak to him. Tell him of the love that choked me. The pain I drowned in without him. But I couldn’t. Instead, I pressed END and cried myself to sleep.
Friday was a busy bustle at school as everyone worked to decorate the hall with red ginger and woven coconut fronds on all the posts. The teachers hoped to stage all the performances on the field under the stars, so everyone was hoping for a clear night. Matile wanted me to do one more fitting after school, which had me chafing and muttering curses under my breath.
Prayers were answered and the night was clear. A half moon graced us with her presence and a panoramic southern hemisphere sky guaranteed that nature herself would be the stage for our culture performances. Our house performance would be last. It was a great night, one I knew I would always remember. For its ease, its beauty, the relaxed natural way people greeted me, spoke to me, the way Simone and I sat and clapped for the house performances, the way he critically analyzed each one, reassuring me that, of course, nobody was as perfect as I would be!
I had never had a night like this one. I was at one with other teenagers and it felt great. Our turn was announced. I could see Matile and Tuala in the audience as they sat proudly with anticipation, and a thrill of nervous adrenaline rushed through me. Simone moved to the side of the hall with the others as they lined up for the maululu dance. The conductor led us in song and the words rippled and swelled, filling the field and the night sky. Then Simone and the other girls took to the field for their dance. I hid a smile as moonlight caught on Simone’s sequins, gracefully ensuring he did stand out! I stood in the shadows and watched as Daniel led the boys in the war dance. My breath caught in my throat as my eyes feasted on his lithe form, the strength in every sinew and rippling muscle as he leapt and danced, invoking the gods of war, of strength and power to take them to victory. So I was caught off guard when Mele spoke beside me.
“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” The ice of her tone was accusatory.
“Who? What are you talking about?” my words sounded lame even to me.
She laughed without mirth. “Oh don’t pretend. You think I don’t know that you’re crazy about him? That you’re sick with longing for him? The whole school knows how pathetic you are over him.”
I looked at this angry, spiteful girl and saw her for what she was. I sighed. “What do you want Mele?”
Her features contorted, “I want you to stay away from Daniel. I want you to go back to where you came from. You don’t belong here. You’re not one of us. You can’t have Daniel, he doesn’t want anything to do with you.”
I smiled sadly. “Mele, I think Daniel’s old enough to decide what he wants. I’m pretty sure he can handle making his own decisions. And I know that he can speak for himself as well. Why don’t you just leave me alone? I’ve spent a lifetime in places where I don’t belong – and now I�
�m home.” As I said the words, I realized that I meant them. It was true. I was home. Samoa was home. I had a huge smile of self-realization as I continued. “And Mele, nobody – especially not a jealous little girl like you – is going to drive me away from where I belong. Sorry!”
“I’ll make you sorry. Don’t you speak to me like that!” Mele’s reaction was swift. A vicious slap to my face. I’d felt worse, but she was wearing a ring and the metal caught cuttingly on the side of my mouth. I tasted blood on my lips. Heat flared threateningly, but it was a small matter to subdue it. This girl wasn’t worth a fire storm. I simply wiped the bead of blood from my lip. “Well, I hope you feel better now, because I won’t give you the opportunity to draw blood again. Now excuse me, I have a performance to get ready for.” I couldn’t resist the petty gibe. “You know, the one where Daniel sings about how much he’s in love with me?”
Dark eyes flashed dangerously and she raised her arm to hit me again, an arm that I grabbed in a vise-like grip, allowing ever so slightly, the flush of fire to run up through my fingers. Skin heated uncomfortably, and Mele’s eyes widened in fear and pain. “Ow! What are you doing?” She struggled to pull away but was no match for my strength. I leaned forward to speak with steel softness in her ear.
“Don’t ever try to hit me again, do you hear me? No more threats, no more attitude. Stay out of my way, because, trust me, you have no idea what you’re dealing with.”
She pulled away, wincing as I released my grip, rubbing at the red welt on her arm. I could hear the announcement of our taupou presentation, so I quickly turned away from her, struggling to calm the rush of nerves as I took a deep breath, reaching up to check my tuiga was still on straight.
“It’s perfect.” Simone was by my side. “You look stunning. Now, don’t fall over and don’t forget to bow to all three sides of the audience, and try not to drop the danceknife, and don’t rush your moves, and remember to feel the words as Daniel sings them, and …”
I raised my hands in laughing protest. “Simone! Quit it, you’re making me a wreck with all those reminders. You’re not helping.”
He paused and put one defiant hand on his hip, “Fine then! No more words of wisdom from the this supermodel. You go, girl.”
I peered from the tent out to the audience and breathed deeply again. Daniel walked out to take his position first. The stage had been set to represent a forest clearing with a pool in its center, ringed by burning flares, a cluster of rocks was where he would sit. He wore a mid-calf-length piece of siapo tied at the hips. His burnished chest was bare save for the single bone carving that hung around his neck. His whole body gleamed with glistening coconut oil and his tattoos spoke their story clearly in the moonlight. He was the noble warrior of every myth and legend and there was a hushed breath of awe before the audience rippled with applause, the more feisty among them whistling and catcalling. Woohoo! Go Danny! Work it, baby, work it!
The appreciative noise died away as Daniel took his seat and picked up his guitar. The incomplete night waited for his voice. Daniel sang. And everyone was swept along in the story of his music. Even though I had heard it many times before, Daniel’s singing never failed to entrance me. If telesā’s gift was dance, his was song. It had a similar effect on one. It tugged on memories of a past you never knew you had, on a history you did not fully understand, on the power of an earth that you knew you would never completely comprehend. I was silenced by its beauty and Simone had to nudge me when the time drew near for me to enter.
“Leila get ready, you’re up.”
I took a deep breath. Daniel’s solo came to a lingering, breathtaking finish and then the entire House started singing, blending their voices with his in an orchestra of worshipful harmony that called to the taupou to enter. This was it. Here goes nothing, wherever you are Dad, it would sure be good if you sent some positive wishes my way. I began the slow, graceful run of a taupou as she answers the call of the crowd. I was terror ridden, right up until I bowed to the audience, three times, as directed, and then allowed my hands to begin telling their story. Then, the fear was replaced by the fire. The joyous welcome of Fanua as she joined me in rejoicing in the dance. I wanted to laugh with the joy of it. I didn’t know why I had ever been afraid of this in the first place. I was telesā after all, and telesā were the creators of the siva.
I was only dimly aware of the applause from the crowd as I danced, of my aunty and uncle beaming proudly in the front row. My heart, breath, and soul were completely focused on the siva as it told its own story, as it listened to Daniel’s words and replied. He sang with the House from behind me, but every fiber of my being was aware of his presence as his voice enveloped me. Delighted me with its expression of love, and then moved me to painful anguish as it spoke of loss and heartache. Too soon, the song ended, my dance came to its bittersweet finish. I bowed again and walked back to stand beside Daniel just like we had practiced, only this time, our hands found each other and the glances we gave each other were filled with meaning. We stood like that for a moment, with the rest of the house standing behind us in all their finery, united in our exultation of a successful performance. And this time, the crowd roared, people leapt to their feet to clap and cheer. Daniel and I were surrounded by a triumphant crowd of students and our clasped hands slipped apart.
I clung to the memory of his look, the feel of his hand in mine for the remainder of the night. As Simone and Sinalei congratulated me wildly. As Mrs. Lematua told everyone we were the best culture group she had ever worked with (Simone whispered narkily, “yeah, usually she’s in the losing house every year.”) As the judges announced that we were the year’s winners. As everyone cheered again and threw their flower leis in the air in triumph. And then groaned as the Principal requested the winning house to stay behind and clean up. Aunty Matile came to help me change out of my costume, carefully removing the tuiga and reverently packing the various items of jewelry into a voluminous bag. Uncle Tuala gruffly congratulated me with an awkward half hug and then both of them thanked Simone for all his help “teaching our Leila how to siva like a true Samoan girl.” Simone merely preened and accepted their compliments like the Queen that he was and I rolled my eyes at him from a safe distance.
“Aunty, is it alright if I stay to clean up with the others? And then, a group of us would like to go to McDonald’s to celebrate with a milkshake, would that be alright?” I asked anxiously. The one thing I missed from Nafanua’s house was the freedom to come and go as I pleased, and I had been trying very hard to make sure I did not fret at the bit too much with Matile and Tuala’s rules and curfews.
Auntie’s brow furrowed worriedly. “I don’t know, Leila, it’s getting late and we don’t like the idea of you out without someone to look after you. It’s not safe. Perhaps it’s best if you come home with us …” her sentence trailed away as she looked to Tuala for affirmation. I had given up on the idea of a milkshake with Simone, when a voice from behind us spoke.
“I would be happy to accompany Leila and make sure she gets home safely, Mrs. Tuala.”
We all turned surprised eyes to see Daniel standing there looking every inch the mature and responsible Head Boy in a black formal lavalava and white elei dress shirt. Beside him stood his grandmother, regal in her blue puletasi.
Matile seemed flustered. “Oh, well, I’m not sure. You’re the boy with the beautiful singing voice tonight?”
I rushed in to capitalize on her fluster. “This is Daniel, Aunty, he’s the Head Boy of the school and the House Captain. And this is his grandmother Salamasina. Please, meet my aunty Matile and uncle Tuala.”
Everyone moved to shake hands and formalize the introductions, after which Matile and Salamasina chatted about the evening’s performance. Uncle Tuala nudged my shoulder with a wry smile as if to say, nice move Leila, she can’t refuse you now that she’s met his grandmother can she?
Simone’s cheeky grin seemed to echo the same unspoken message. And, of course, they were right. Within mi
nutes, Daniel, Simone, Sinalei and I were all walking towards the carpark with Matile’s generous farewells in our ears. “Have fun children. Be careful!” I was light-headed. Without quite knowing how it happened, I was going out on a ‘typical’ McDonald’s sundae double date. A bubble of laughter threatened to burst as I reflected on the weirdness of the scene though. Yes, there were two boys and two girls going for ice cream here, but one boy was a fa’afafine and one of us could melt ice cream with a thought …
At the car, Simone and Sinalei hopped into the back with unspoken assent, leaving me and Daniel in the front. It felt awkward. A little while ago our hearts had sung in unison for all to see, but now that the music had stopped we were left again with the reality – we were a boy and girl who hadn’t actually had a proper conversation for weeks now. I bit my lip in the darkness as Daniel focused his gaze on the road.
Telesa - The Covenant Keeper Page 42
