by Mary Deal
Though angry at the boy for having wandered away, the parents expressed great relief.
The boy began to cry. “I guess I went too far. Then I didn't know which direction to take to get back.”
Great feelings of joy were expressed by others in the park when they returned to the clearing. Ka'imi got a lot of praise and petting.
Later, after more exploring, Sara spotted the two trailheads Birdie told her about. The northern Kahawai trail disappeared into the brush and remained on relatively flat ground. The southern Mauna trail inclined steeply almost immediately. That was the one Birdie said led to the howling cliffs. It would be a rugged climb from the Arboretum to the crest.
Chapter 11
The trail was rough, littered with jutting abutments of lava rocks and clutching roots where the pathway had worn down from water runoff. Humidity and occasional drizzle or rain kept it slippery, and in places, soupy. A tangle of bushes and shrubs encroached to reclaim the area. The island's iron-rich red soil promoted growth and the trail could be quickly over-grown without use. Vines hung out of trees and had to be brushed aside to pass.
Higher up, some of the drop-off areas into the valley were steep, the narrow trail dangerous. The air was intoxicating with the sweet scent of flowers, always fresh because the trade winds blew away any pollution. Sara was glad she had worn sneakers instead of the rubber flip-flops she was trying to get used to wearing daily. Yet now, her sneakers were wet inside and stained on the outside from the sticky red dirt. She inhaled deeply. It was all part of becoming acclimated to her new surroundings.
Halfway up the second incline, Sara stopped, surprisingly short of breath. Ka'imi pulled on the leash, wanting to keep going. A spry middle-aged couple with two Airedales jogged passed, huffing and puffing up the trail. They pulled the leashes taut when passing, to keep their dogs and Ka'imi apart.
Sara mistakenly believed she was in good physical shape. She'd have to do something about that. She started again, at a pace she could maintain. Ka'imi continued to pull ahead on the leash, wanting a faster pace.
Suddenly, Ka'imi stopped. Her ears rose rigid and her tail went down. She gave a short whine. The howling of dogs came from a distance. It seemed to fill the valley. It was the howls of two dogs, probably the Airedales.
Hearing the pathetic wailing that close made Sara wince. No wonder the locals wanted to ban noisy dogs from the trail. Ka'imi pulled hard on the leash. Sara picked up the pace. Ka'imi seemed onto something.
A winding ascent later, they crested the plateau. The rough hewn rocky trail on the plateau was well-worn, yet wide and rimmed a canyon. The trail did not get too close to the edge, which was marked by low bushes and other growth. Sporadically the trailside simply dropped off sharply into the valley. Foot-tall signs warned hikers to stay away from these areas. The foliage, clouds and mountain views would be a photographer's heaven, easily distracting the unwary close to the precipice.
Ka'imi seemed agitated. She paced, pulled on the leash, turned and paced and turned back and paced. Then she sat facing the canyon. Her head went back, her neck stretched, and she began howling mournfully. She was evidently sensing what other dogs did. Birdie hadn't exaggerated.
Sara edged toward a canyon drop off. Small clods of dirt broke loose under foot and rolled over the side. Jagged boulders jutted out from the cliffside below among thick overgrown shrubbery. Scratchy heli-heli weed, with its spiked leaves grew tall. Heli-heli was a thorny low growing weed that stung if you walked on it barefoot or your skin came in contact with its strings of thorns. The instant the leaves were touched, they curled up exposing the needle-sharp points. Left alone, the plant could growing into thick clutching shrubbery. Sixty-foot-tall invasive Albesia trees with their far-reaching branches had been randomly placed by nature.
The far side of the canyon was also covered with shrubs and Albesia with their near-white feathery tips of upper growth reaching toward sunlight. Bits of paper and other refuse had blown down the cliffside. Charitable groups helped keep public areas clear, but no one dared the dangerous drop-offs to retrieve the ugly blight of the careless. In time, the sun and humidity would rot the remnants which would fold back into the earth, or a wild pig might amble upon the bit of trash and devour it.
Across the valley, showing through the trees, sheer white rock sun-bleached cliffs boldly stood in the afternoon brightness. Ka'imi kept howling and everything seemed surreal. So these were the howling cliffs of local notoriety. Ka'imi's constant yowling began to grate on her nerves. She grabbed her harness and her away.
Past some tall trees and around a small bend, a grassy area opened out. Ka'imi finally calmed. The forest surrounding the clearing was thick and sounds may not travel like they did out over the valley.
Could the dogs know that? Was she simply second guessing, trying to solve the mystery of a situation that seemed so simple? Was the howling just dogs being dogs? Yet, why that particular rocky space looking out over the canyon?
As Sara took a break, she began to daydream of Vietnam. There she once stood atop a sheer cliff overlooking a wide rushing river. While she felt loneliness and sadness in Vietnam, the Kauai island rustling with trade winds seemed disarmingly peaceful, though people had been known to get lost and die in the tangled depths.
Kauai had no vicious animals, not even snakes, but a huge number of feral pig, boar and goat usually roamed the wild areas. Those creatures were the offspring of animals that had been owned by the ancient Hawaiians, with goats brought in by Captain Cook in 1778. Sara thought of Huxley and wished he could be beside her to appreciate Kauai as she was enjoying it. Vietnam was always an emotional, serious and draining experience, but hiking Kauai's scenic trails promised to be restorative.
Sara returned in the moment when she heard the couple with the Airedales approaching to head back down the trail.
They stopped in front of her where she sat. The woman allowed the dogs and Ka'imi to sniff each other as dogs do. “I heard your dog. Did you hear ours?”
“I heard.”
“Most curious, these howling cliffs.” The man looked out over the ravine. “I thought it was just another ancient myth.”
The couple continued downward. Sara poured more water into the plastic bowl. Ka'imi lapped up every last drop. Soon the couple's dogs began to howl again when passing through the area. Sara smiled at Ka'imi. “You're going to howl again, too, aren't you?”
Perhaps some meaning really existed behind all those Hawaiian myths and lore. She remembered the whole series of books published where people told of their supernatural experiences throughout The Islands; stories of seeing ancient Hawaiians in their native persona, although ghosts, affecting the lives of the living. The idea intrigued her, just as she was enchanted by her friend Pierce's death and revival experiences.
When she had moved back to her hometown area in Sacramento's River Delta and learned her former school mate had been struck by lightning, she also realized some death experiences were true. She would read those Hawaiian books to learn more about the Island ways.
Pierce's recovery from death was filled with phenomenal, nearly inexplicable occurrences, the events documented by well-known world scientists. She had read the books he wrote explaining his life changes. That might definitely lent credence to the Hawaiian myths.
When she and Ka'imi again passed through the clearing overlooking the sheer rock cliffs, on cue, Ka'imi sat and began to howl. Sara pulled on her leash. Ka'imi seemed to need to get something out of her system. She stood, took two steps, then sat and howled again. Sara watched for a moment longer but the howling was grating. Birdie had said that a handful of locals continued to struggle to get a noise abatement law passed. Sara suspected legal ordinances would not stop the dogs from howling on the cliffs. Short of barring them from the trail, perhaps the island authorities should try to find out what caused the dogs to react in such a mysterious manner only at this location.
Chapter 12
Sara sat alone in the diml
y lit archival section of the Lihue Public Library on Hardy Street, the main library in the Kauai county seat. Hunched over with a small lamp on the desk and needing reading spectacles gave her the feeling of being a serious graduate student researching for a thesis. A stack of old microfiche tapes in dusty containers sat on the edge of the desk.
The library staff was in the process of converting all records to DVDs, but with recent budget cuts, personnel to complete the task was limited and progress slow. The library did have a donated scanner to transfer records to DVD, but the majority of old records remained on deteriorating film. Sara planned to tell the librarian that all this data could all go into cloud storage on a data base. In the middle of transferring these records, how defeating to have updated technology make their efforts obsolete. And yet, how useful. She would mention the new method of storage.
In Hawaii when veterans were concerned, people opened their hearts and seemed open to hers and Huxley's intentions. Yet, when it came to understanding how they might aid in solving island cold cases, the consensus among residents was that the good ol' boy network within local law enforcement wouldn't be impressed.
Locals would be irritated that haoles would even think about stepping in to work on cases the police hadn't been able to solve. Sara would have to tread lightly and prove her intentions honorable if she was to investigate unobstructed. Six-year-old Leia being missing for ten years had triggered Sara's curiosity. Knowing that information about the case could be found in old newspapers and other public documents, she determined to view anything that might offer clues.
“So, Maleko was a rowdy kid.” Sara mumbled under her breath while reading. She hadn't heard an elderly librarian enter the room.
“Maleko?” The librarian spoke as quietly as she had appeared. “Is that the case you're researching? We also have six women missing on this island right now.” She was blonde, elderly and evidently a transplant in the library system hierarchy from the Mainland.
“Thought I'd take a look.” Sara did not realize she had spoken loud enough to be heard.
“That was such a mysterious case.” The librarian perched herself on the corner of the desk. “Most of the clerks who were here at the time are gone now, but I remember. If you have questions, please ask.”
Sara glanced at the stack of dusty black vinyl containers and decided the librarian could probably pin point much of the information she needed, at least for starters. “Do you have a few minutes?”
The librarian looked out the large partition window to the main room. “Sure, I can spare a few minutes.” She went out to the front desk to speak with someone, then returned.
“Can you give me an overview of what happened in the case?”
The librarian began talking like the case happened only yesterday. “Maleko, yes, he was a rowdy young boy.”
Any mention of Maleko seemed always to appear in a biased way. “Why do you mention him first?”
“He just sticks in my mind. He was a rough kid and his sister, little Leia… she had Down syndrome, you know.”
“I heard.”
“Leia was only six.” She shook her head thoughtfully. “Maleko was a mischievous twelve-year-old then, almost ten years ago now, but he was always close to his sister. His parents said Leia used to love to have Maleko hold her like a baby and swing her in his arms, like he was about to throw her.” She waved a hand of caution toward Sara and looked doubtful. “Of course he wouldn't, but Leia loved it.” She smiled, and then continued with her recollection of the case. “The way Maleko tells it, he went to play in a back lot across the cul-de-sac. A house was under construction, just had the two-by-fours up.
The librarian disclosed a few more details. She must have had a superior memory to recall details that far back.
“Maleko's house and that new house were the only ones on the street at the time. The subdivision was just going in. The lots were muddy with red dirt. He got into a fight with several boys.” She paused momentarily, with a far-away look in her eyes. “Those boys used to tease him about his sister's condition. He wasn't supposed to leave Leia alone in the house but when he went home to clean up before his parents returned, he found her missing.”
“So he was responsible for her when the parents were away?”
“It came out later that Maleko sometimes complained about it, always having to ride her and her little Chihuahua on his bike.”
“So where was the dog when Leia went missing?”
“Maleko told the police she must have taken it for a walk.”
Sara tried to visualize what the scene might have been like, considering she now lived in that same cul-de-sac. Leia could have wandered out, unseen by anyone if Maleko's family were the only ones living in the cul-de-sac at the time. Unseen by anyone if the rest of the vacant properties had tall buffalo weeds growing before homes were actually built. Someone could have picked her up out on the highway and who knows what might have happened from there. “Were there any child molesters on the island back then?”
The librarian looked at her sideways. “Two. Both were questioned. They had solid alibis.” She turned up the side of her mouth. “A third had just been released from the Halawa Correctional Facility on the Big Island, but that day, he was still processing out.”
With known sex offenders on the island, their activities should be scrutinized for any possible clue that might have been overlooked. Sometimes a pair of fresh eyes was all that was needed. “What do the investigators say happened that day?”
“Well, like I said, Maleko was in a fight. He didn't know what to do when he found his sister missing, knew he was in deep trouble. He cleaned up and went looking for her. A couple hours later he returned home to find his mother waiting. She had already found his torn shirt, shorts and muddy sneakers soaking in the wash room sink.” The librarian looked through the stack of reels and read labels. “Here, this one.” She tapped one of the video cases. “The newspaper did a write up on Maleko's police interview.” She turned to leave. “I'd better get a few things done. You'll find all kinds of info in those tapes.” She quickly scanned a few more titles and handed Sara several more from the pile. “Get my attention if you need me.”
“Thank you. You've been a big help.” She decided that first reel was the best place to begin. Poor Maleko. One act of disobeying his parents' orders led to a memory haunting him for the rest of his life. No wonder people thought him loony.
Chapter 13
A news article provided additional information to what the librarian had just revealed. Maleko was a bully among his peers. He had entered the yard where the new house was being built. Other boys hung out there. Maleko had already removed his shirt and playfully snapped it like a bath towel at the other boys' legs. The boys didn't like that and Maleko and one boy got into a fight. Another boy jumped into the fray and took the shirt away. Maleko snatched his shirt back and ran to his house.
When his mother found his shirt, it was torn and missing a couple of buttons. The two boys with whom Maleko fought validated his story. Because it was a missing person case, that of a little girl with Down syndrome, pleas for help from citizens were publicized immediately.
Maleko and his family members' photos made the papers. His sneakers, along with the rumpled shorts and torn shirt, looking like a young boy's sailor outfit, were photographed in the family laundry room. His mother held up the sopping clothes for the police photographer.
Another article said that since the police were notified immediately, due to Leia being a young child, an all-out missing person search was launched without delaying through the usual twenty-four hour wait period. Because Kauai is an island, the only way off would be by boat or airplane. Not many islanders owned a boat large enough or strong enough to cross the ninety-five mile wide Kauai Channel between Kauai and Oahu except a few fishermen.
The Coast Guard made numerous passes over the port areas and sea route to Oahu.
No other boats went out that day except the usual commercial
fishermen before dawn, long before the time of day Leia went missing, and all eventually returned to port and were inspected upon docking.
The airport was monitored for anyone accompanied by a dark-haired six year old Down syndrome girl trying to board a flight. No one like that had shown up during the three days following the search. Airport officials were given photos and kept on alert, but no such child was seen. Several later articles provided variations of the same information as updates were reported.
Then Sara zeroed in on a batch of articles focused on one of the island's sex offenders. That man, Poe Kilipaki, had an alibi but something didn't fit. A neighbor verified that he had been home in his small plantation house in the lower Wailua Homesteads the day Leia went missing. The neighbor could see him from the side window of her house through the side window of his house when he was home. When asked if she could positively say that he was in his house all day, she could not. She knew that he lived alone and no one was ever seen visiting him. Since he was a registered sex offender and unmarried, no one wanted anything to do with him. He lived like a hermit. The neighbor also remembered that Poe cooked for himself. She had smelled burning food coinciding with the same time of day that Leia went missing. The burn smell and smoke rolled out of his windows. Just as the neighbor was about to call the fire department, Poe appeared from his back yard and took care of the situation.
“So where was he?” Sara mumbled to herself again. “Why wasn't he around to know what was happening in his kitchen?” She re-read portions of the article. “What was baking in the oven and how long did it take before it began to burn?” She wrote some notes and then stared at his picture. He had an ugly sneer that added to his unkempt appearance. Could his food have baked long enough before burning that he was able to get away from his home, harm Leia and then return? Sara read further. Poe's offenses were non-rape molestation of pre-teen girls, and he had never killed to anyone's knowledge. His previous victims correctly identified him. Having a record of molestation didn't mean that at some point, like many, he could not have crossed the line. “How long does it take to pick up a six-year-old and do away with her while something is baking in the oven before it starts to burn?”
