Two To Mango

by Jill Marie Landis

  “Y . . . yes. I brought them all sm . . . smoothies.”

  The screen door banged open, and Kiki barged in. “She’s poisoned us all! She tried to kill us!”

  Marilyn’s entire demeanor changed. Gone was the always composed, always refined woman they’d known up to now. She pushed off of Louie and jumped up, squaring off with Kiki.

  “You bitch. I did not! I was doing a good thing. I was trying to be nice to all of you.”

  “Good? You call that a good thing?” Kiki pointed in the direction of the Goddess. “We’ve all got the runs. Kimo’s afraid the septic tank is going to back up, and they’ll have to shut down the place until they get it pumped. What did you give us? What’s the antidote?”

  Kiki lunged at Marilyn, but Em jumped up and grabbed Kiki’s hands a second before they could clamp around Marilyn’s neck.

  “Whoa. Take it easy, Kiki.” Em had to admit Kiki was an odd shade of green.

  “I brought them all smoothies made from Tiko’s acai berry powder. There was nothing wrong with them.”

  “Then why the heck are all the Maidens stuck in the lua? They’ve got the runs worse than the lava flow at the Kilauea crater. What did you give us? And why, Marilyn? Why? Are you that devious? If you think we’ll ever change our minds and let you come back now, you’re crazier than I thought.”

  Marilyn turned to Em. “Call her. Call Tiko. She’ll tell you. I didn’t do anything on purpose. Her number is 822 . . .”

  “Wait.” Em pulled her cell phone out of her shorts pocket. Maybe Tiko did have an explanation. Maybe Marilyn had mixed the powder up incorrectly. “Okay. Go.”

  Marilyn gave her the number, and she punched it in. Tiko answered on the second ring.

  “Hi ,Tiko. This is Em Johnson, we met a couple of days ago. Yes, from the Goddess. Yeah, I’m fine. Listen, I’m calling because we’ve got a little problem here. Marilyn brought the girls some acai berry smoothies made with your powder . . . yes . . . I’m sure that is one of your best sellers . . . but . . . okay that’s great . . .”

  Kiki, Louie and Marilyn stared while Em waited for Tiko to finish touting the popularity of the berry smoothie powder.

  “Well, that’s wonderful. The trouble is some of the girls are having a little problem now that they’ve finished drinking them.”

  Kiki cupped her hands and yelled at the phone in Em’s hand. “It’s not a little problem. We’re dying! We’ve got the runs! Our intestines have been liquefied. I think I’m going to need a whole new colon.”

  Em listened for a second and then turned to Marilyn. “Tiko wants to know if you added anything to the powder.”

  Kiki wrapped her arms around her midriff. “She said she added some seasoning.”

  Marilyn blinked her lashes a couple of times as if trying to bring the room into focus.

  “Did I add something?” she whispered.

  “You admitted you did,” Kiki shouted. “You said it when you passed them out.”

  Em held the phone against her heart. “Settle down, Kiki.” Then she put the phone to her ear again. “Just a minute, Tiko. Marilyn, did you add anything to the smoothies?”

  “Why, yes.” She suddenly began to blink as if coming out of a fog. “Yes, I did. We learned to make a special Hawaiian seasoning in Mitchell’s halau. Inamona. It’s made from kukui nuts.”

  Kiki grabbed her head. “Inamona? You put inamona in those things?”

  Em had never actually seen anyone tear at their hair before, but Kiki was doing a fine job of it.

  Marilyn nodded. “I wanted it to be special. I thought . . .”

  Em still had the phone to her ear. Tiko said, “Did she say she put inamona in the smoothies?”

  “She did,” Em said.

  “That could be trouble,” Tiko said.

  “Big trouble,” Em told her. “They all have the runs.”

  “She put in too much.” Tiko was silent for a second then said, “Sounds like she used way too much.”

  Em turned to Marilyn, “Tiko says you used too much.”

  “You think?” Kiki squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath for a second. When she opened them she pinned Marilyn with a hard stare. “Inamona is used in very small amounts to season poke, Marilyn. You know, the pupu made from fish? If it’s not cooked thoroughly, or you use too much, causes diarrhea. Very bad diarrhea.”

  Louie unfortunately chose that moment to chuckle. Kiki turned on him.

  “What’s so funny, mister? We’re probably going to lose a day of practice tomorrow from dehydration. Little Estelle and Suzi are so small that their systems can’t handle it. Suzi called her sister to come pick her up, so word is out. By now this is story is probably all over town. You’ll be lucky if one of us doesn’t sue you!”

  “What did I do? I didn’t do anything!” Lawsuits terrified Louie.

  “You,” Kiki tapped him on the chest with her finger, “are engaged to her.”

  “Hello? Hello?” Tiko’s voice came out of the phone.

  Em nearly forgot she was still on the line.

  “I’m here,” Em said, wishing she was anywhere but here.

  “Does this mean you won’t be buying any of my products for the bar?” Tiko sounded despondent.

  “Actually, I was going to set up a meeting with you today,” Em said.

  “Maybe you could come by this afternoon? I’d love to show you around my garden and my kitchen, too. I have approval from the health department to use my kitchen.”

  Em jumped at the chance to leave the chaos, especially if there was going to be a problem with the septic. She couldn’t bear the stench when the “honey wagon” came to pump out the poo. She told Tiko she’d try to be there before three-thirty and ended the call.

  Marilyn was still sniffling. Em had never seen the woman in such a state. Her straight shoulder length blond hair was completely mussed. It stood out like a nimbus, and her mascara was smeared around her eyes and tracking down her face. Her nose looked like a wet strawberry.

  Kiki didn’t look any better. Her long hair was loose and straggling down the sides of her face in clumps. Her skin was the color of sticky rice.

  “I’m so sorry, Kiki,” Marilyn apologized again.

  Kiki was shaking as she plopped down in the closest chair and rested her forehead on her hand.

  “She meant it as a peace offering,” Louie reminded Kiki. “You’ll get over it.”

  “Get over it?” Kiki heaved a heavy sigh. “It’s always something. Why can’t we just be normal?” Her eyes mushroomed to the size of golf balls. “Sorry, I gotta . . .” She jumped up and ran down the hall toward the bathroom.

  If everyone else wasn’t so distraught, not to mention the sight of the unconscious parrot across the room, Em would have laughed. Normal had taken a hike years ago.

  “I hope this doesn’t ruin Tiko’s chances to have you feature her smoothies.” Marilyn looked around and then grabbed the hem of Louie’s shirt and wiped her nose with it. “This isn’t her fault. That poor girl needs a break.”

  “There are parts of you I’d like to break,” Kiki hobbled back in. “You think anyone is going to order one of those things when this gets out?”

  “I can call them killah smoothies,” Louie laughed.

  “That’s not funny,” Marilyn’s lower lip shot out in a pout.

  Louie wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “How about I take you home, honey. You can freshen up.”

  “What about my car?” she sighed.

  “You’re too upset to drive. I’ll hang around your place until you feel like coming down to get it again.”

  “Okay.” She smiled up into his eyes. “That would be nice.”

  As they left together holding hands, Em breathed in the moment of blessed silence. Sh
e walked over to Letterman’s cage to check on him. The bird was still on the floor. She stared at him until she saw his chest rise and fall. He loved mango, and Louie’s new cocktail had plenty of mango syrup, but Dave had disapproved of every sample of every version Louie had concocted last night.

  “That bird is going to have some hangover.” Kiki was standing at Em’s shoulder.

  “You look drawn. Maybe you should go home and lie down,” Em suggested.

  “Yeah. I’ve probably lost thirty pounds. You know how much gunk is stored in the average intestinal tract?”

  “No, and I don’t want to.”

  Kiki walked over to the sofa, flopped down on her back and crossed her ankles.

  “You’ll never convince me that woman didn’t try to kill us. Or at the very least, keep us out of the competition.”

  “Wouldn’t she have waited until closer to the event?”

  “Maybe this was a test run.”

  “Maybe she just wanted to show off the fact that she learned how to make that kukui nut seasoning,” Em said.

  “She showed us all right.” Kiki closed her eyes a second then snapped them open again. “She’s joined yet another halau.”

  “Not Mitchell’s? She didn’t go back to them?” Em’s mind snagged on the idea that maybe Marilyn went back to Mitchell’s halau because Mitchell was gone. Conveniently gone. Where had Marilyn been the night Mitchell died? She made a mental note to find out.

  “Jackie Loo Tong’s. Can you believe it? She’s going to dance with him. She even went so far as to suggest they’ll all come perform at the Goddess.”

  “Do you think they would?” Em wondered.

  “You’d really want them here?” Kiki misunderstood and looked like she was about to burst into tears.

  “I meant, would they just invite themselves like that?”

  Kiki shrugged. “Why not? We would.”

  18

  Tiko’s Tropical Paradise

  Tiko’s small cottage was located on a three acre parcel not far from the Wailua Country Store. As Em pulled into the long, gravel-lined drive, she had to veer right to let a red convertible Mustang pass her on its way out. The driver was a young local woman who gave Em a big smile and a wave as she passed by.

  Em couldn’t help but admire the lush variety of plants that filled the front yard. Various colorful gingers lined one border while there were hedges and exotic flowering trees of all kinds, not to mention limes, orange and lemon trees. An old mango tree had a trunk big enough to house a couple of toddlers.

  Tiko was waiting on the front lanai.

  “Your place is fabulous.” There was beauty at every turn. Em didn’t know where to look. “I can see how this takes you hours of work.”

  “Wait until you see my herb and vegetable gardens out back. Thank you so much for coming, especially after what happened to the Maidens. I feel just terrible.”

  “Don’t let it worry you. They’re always embroiled in some kind of mess, usually of their own making.”

  Em took another look around the front yard and garden before they went inside. “I’m in awe of the beauty of this place. I love those torch gingers.”

  “Mahalo. They seem to love it here.”

  “And what are those?” Em pointed to a huge bush covered with blossoms that looked like white bells.

  “I don’t know the official name. Most people call them angel’s trumpets.”

  “They’re stunning.” Everywhere she looked Em saw something beautiful. “Did you plant all of this yourself?”

  Tiko shook her head. “This land has been in my family for years. My grandmother started the flower and herb gardens. She knew a lot about Hawaiian herbs, which ones could heal, which were dangerous. So many secrets were lost over time when the old ones pass on. That was my cousin in the convertible. Our tutu raised us both in this house. Charlotte moved back to Kauai from the mainland a little while ago.”

  They walked through the compact but neatly appointed home. Tiko’s furnishings were modest, the sofa and chairs draped with colorful pareau. Everything was in its place, and there was an absence of clutter. The house was situated so that the trade winds blew through and kept it cool.

  Photos of Tiko dancing were on display. They filled one wall along with implements that were used for certain dances, dried seed leis, and even a dried ti leaf skirt had been spread out and pinned on the wall.

  Scented candles and soft sounds of recorded flute music added to the tranquility.

  “I’m glad you don’t blame what happened this morning on my smoothie mix.”

  “At first I wondered if one of the ingredients might have spoiled, but then Marilyn admitted to adding the seasoning she’d made up.”

  “I’m sure she didn’t mean any harm. I remember Marilyn was excited about learning to make inamona and all the Hawaiian crafts we tried. She didn’t mean to harm the ladies with her addition to the smoothies. She was always such a lady when she was in Mitchell’s halau.”

  “I think maybe she wanted to show off some of the knowledge she’d gained while dancing under such a renowned kumu,” Em said. “She didn’t realize too much of good thing could be so harmful. But Kiki will never believe it wasn’t sabotage.”

  “They’re all right, though?”

  “It hit some of the ladies harder than others, but they’re all on the mend. You can’t keep a good Hula Maiden down.”

  They walked into a light and airy, well organized kitchen. Tiko opened an old fashioned cookie jar, a white ceramic dog with red trim. She pulled out what appeared to be a handful of small, individually wrapped candies.

  “These are my homemade ginger chews. They settle the stomach, but if you love ginger you’ll enjoy munching on them. They’re completely organic.”

  Em thanked her and tucked the chews into her pocket.

  She showed Em the set up in the kitchen where she dehydrated all of her fruit and prepared the smoothie powders. “I grow most of my own ingredients, weigh and measure and package everything right here.”

  Unassembled boxes with her colorful label were stacked along one wall. There were also boxes of zip lock bags in various sizes which were also labeled. She explained to Em how long it took her to make each flavored powder supply. Her goal was to have enough for her smoothie stand at the Kukui Nut Festival and extras for Louie, should Em decide to place an order.

  Tiko paused by the back door. “If you have time, let’s go out back, and I’ll show you the garden.”

  They stepped outside the back door. Wind chimes lined the overhang of the small back lanai. The breeze set them all singing. Em looked out over the gently rolling back yard and let her gaze sweep up the backside of Sleeping Giant mountain known for its distinctive shape of a giant lying on his back.

  An extensive garden plot ran down the property parallel to a wire fence. They walked toward the garden together.

  “This is where I grow all my own vegetables, and I send extra produce to the farmer’s market with my neighbor.” They passed by thriving sections of long beans, kale, arugula, carrots and cucumbers. There was an area with three neat rows of papaya trees. “Those are all sunrise papayas,” Tiko pointed out.

  “The ones that are bright orange inside? Do you make smoothie powder from those?”

  “I do.”

  “I’d really like to carry some papaya. And I hear the acai berry is really popular among the health food crowd.”

  “That’s right. Though I doubt the Hula Maidens will be very enthusiastic about them now.”

  “They’ll get behind anything that will keep the Goddess operating in the black,” Em assured her.

  They moved on, working their way around the garden.

  “Is that all your land up there?” Em pointed to the land beyond the fence that roll
ed up the hillside.

  “Not all of it. Most is forestry land. There are hiking trails up there, but most of what grows there are weeds.”

  By the time they reached the back of the house again, Em was ready for the glass of ice cold lemonade Tiko offered.

  “I can see now why you’re not dancing hula anymore,” Em said. “This is quite an operation. I can’t believe you manage it alone.”

  “It’s my passion,” Tiko told her.

  “Does your cousin help you?”

  “No, only when I need someone at a big craft fair. If she can get off work, that is.”

  Em took in the neat cottage with its creamy yellow siding and ivory trim. Set against the many shades of green and various coconut palms scattered across the rolling landscape, it looked like a tropical doll house on a picture postcard. Em loved it.

  “Do you live up here all alone?”

  Tiko’s smile faltered for a minute. “Since my tutu died of a heart attack three years ago. She was ninety-nine.”

  “No significant other in your life?” Em couldn’t believe someone with Tiko’s looks and personality was still single.

  Tiko’s gaze roamed over the land and then toward the Sleeping Giant. She shook her head no.

  “Not at the moment.” She paused a moment more before she turned to Em with a smile. “I haven’t much time to devote to anyone or anything else right now.”

  Em finished her lemonade. “If you can spare some product before the festival, why don’t you pack up three dozen packets each of your best sellers. I’ll have Louie write up some fun descriptions of the mixes for us to use on the Goddess menu.”

  “Nothing R rated, right? I’m trying to build an organic, healthy image.”

  “Definitely all PG. We could use a few more choices like that at the Goddess. Tourists love to bring the kids in for the show. This will give them something to enjoy while their parents are swilling down Mai Tai’s.”

  “If you like, you can wait out here while I go in and get some boxes ready for you. I’ll send you an invoice later.”

  The wind chimes were singing in the breeze as a passing cloud misted the garden. Em couldn’t have found a better place to relax for a few minutes.