by MJ Brannigan
Rebecca’s cheeks were already wet with tears; “This time together, it’s been wonderful, so wonderful. I’d like that, staying in touch that is. It’s a long way away to try to stay in a relationship, but I can tell you I’m not going to be looking for someone to replace you—or Jenny for that matter. This thing we’ve had here, it’s just so special, dreamy. Can’t see ever replacing that.”
Remembering the question she had asked Jenny, Rebecca wondered what was guiding Kamea’s heart; what she saw her life like if she looked ahead, living her life so simply, without ambition for success and material things the way Jenny did. “What do you see your life like in the future? Like, what do you want to be doing in another five years?” she asked.
“This,” Kamea replied, looking out into the darkness; night clouds still drifting out to sea. “Being next to you… sharing life with you. That’s what I want to be doing.”
CHAPTER 25 - KAMEA
“Where’s your little friend, keiki?” Auntie asked as Kamea closed the door to her truck.
“Not sure, Auntie. She’s going back home tomorrow, I think—might be packing her things, I dunno.”
Auntie stood on her front steps, shielding her eyes from the sun, looking at the passenger side door, as if still waiting for it to open.
“Must notta seen her rainbow yet,” Auntie muttered, as she waved Kamea closer, giving her a hug.
Kamea wanted to tell Auntie that maybe she didn’t see things right. Maybe she was getting old. Maybe stuff didn’t always work out the way she saw it. She held her tongue. Her protests wouldn’t have made any difference to Auntie anyhow, she figured.
It had been a rough, sleepless night. Rather than the night in each other’s arms she had been looking forward to, it was another night apart—but only after a lengthy conversation about staying in touch—why this was the best thing for both of them right now.
Kamea could understand how a life here on Maui might not work for Rebecca. At least not yet, not right now. She also saw how Rebecca didn’t quite believe in herself enough to take the leap; and a leap it would be on so many levels. Kamea would stay here, most likely the rest of her life. If things didn’t work out between them, she still had her life here, bruised but relatively unscathed. Rebecca would have to give up everything she knew back home to make a fresh start. If this turned out to be something that didn’t work out, she might find herself marooned in a beautiful but unfamiliar place.
She swam in thoughts—too many thoughts. She just wanted to get back on track with her life; go back out on the water, get back in the studio. Then she remembered the unfinished painting of Rebecca in the white dress. Her heart sank once more.
Her head understood the reasons, but her heart was unable to fathom the separation from someone it had become accustomed to yearning for, even if only for a short while.
“Your heart is heavy, keiki, I know,” Auntie said, looking at Kamea. “I can’t help what I see,” she continued. “The pictures are sometimes fuzzy, and they don’t come with a clock to tell me when they gonna happen. But they always happen. Her rainbow, your flowers—your lei. It’s all gonna happen.”
Kamea didn’t want to argue with Auntie. She realized she had never argued with Auntie even once. Her kindness and sincerity never deserved harsh words or thoughts from anyone. Auntie had been raised by a Kupuna—a learned elder. She knew the old ways and kept them alive in her being. I hope I can be so well loved when I’m her age, Kamea thought.
“Best thing’s for you to get back to whatcha’ were doin’—on the water, and with your paints too. You got that show comin’ up at the big hotel next month. That will keep ya busy. No worries,” Auntie patted her on the shoulder as she turned back towards the lanai.
Kamea reached into the cab behind the front seat and dragged out the French easel and painting gear she brought with her, wondering if Auntie had foreseen this too? But she had already been thinking that getting out and painting near Auntie’s would do her some good.
Low-hanging clouds continued to sweep out to sea as they had done in the darkness of last night. It was a warm breeze blowing from the south, gentle for the time of year. Pipeline would be quieter today; she imagined, compared to the huge waves she and Kris had been watching only yesterday. Why did even the sky seem to reflect her sadness, she wondered?
“I’m just gonna paint for a little while lookin’ over the taro patches, Auntie,” Kamea said.
“Good, keiki. We’ll have somethin’ to eat when your Uncle Leo gets back. He’s out on the big boat, trying to get an Ahi today. He’s been wanting to catch a big one all year. We’ll see,” she chuckled as she walked back into the house.
* * *
The tall palms bordering the taro patches waved in the gentle breeze. The patchwork quilt pattern of the fields lay in front of her, rectangular ponds and rows of bright greens bordering each rectangle.
Taro was a Polynesian staple for as far back as anyone could remember. It was known locally as Kalo, and grown in ponds, called lo’i. It made the poi, so many tourists tried and turned up their noses at when daring each other to eat it at the hotel lauas. But it was so much more to the people. It was a Polynesian staple—their starch accompaniment to the protein in fish and pork.
Growing taro had undergone a renaissance in recent years as Native Hawaiians sought to reclaim their roots, their culture, from an ever-encroaching influence of both western and eastern influences. Growing taro was a statement of self-sufficiency, a touchstone, as much as growing corn, sweet potatoes, or rice had been to other World cultures. It formed the basis of their diet and went along with them to whatever island they occupied. Rice paddies of the more recent past had been turned into lo’i; taro ponds, once again.
Kamea had always felt happy that at least half her cultural history came from the greatest seafaring peoples of all time—the Polynesians. The other half, her Irish ancestry when traced back, came from Cod fisherman that lived along the coast of Ireland. Their lives depended on the sea as well. She seemed destined, as she saw it, to always be a child of the sea—as though salt water ran in her blood.
But now, the scene before her would hopefully capture the moment as she saw it. The color and light of this particular time of day would fill her canvas with the play of light on the patchwork fields—the coconut palms swaying, and the ever-present blue of the sea behind.
As she would have done in the studio, she used her palette knife to mix up little piles of color. Her first strokes on the canvas began the process to define what she saw, and what she felt in seeing what was before her.
She lay in the intersecting lines of the rectangular patches of the fields. She worked back and forth—sky to palms, to fields. The few gray-bellied low clouds sweeping past overhead moved quickly out to sea, leaving the sky a brilliant, clear blue. It did little to lighten her mood.
Try as she might, the colors looked darker and more severe than she had hoped. The brush strokes were not to her liking either—sporadic and unfocused. Her heavy heart was not going to be ignored. Maybe tomorrow will be better, she thought as she took out her palette knife and scraped the hour’s work away. The scraped-down canvas held the ghost image of the past hour’s effort. It mirrored the image of Rebecca, ghosted still on her heart. I’m pathetic, she thought. When was this going to end?
* * *
A failed painting, and her heart still in tatters, Kamea made the drive home to Paia. She passed the General Store where they sat for their first morning coffee together. Everything around her now reminded her of Rebecca, and she decided it just wouldn’t do to keep letting it get to her. She had to regroup. Had to move her energy towards getting back on track.
Painting had not gone so well today. It happens. People who think you just sit down to paint and everything comes out the way you want it have no idea. Even after years of painting, there was no guarantee of success. It was always a chance one takes with anything, creative or otherwise. Even spearfishing could leave her skunked—
no telling. But it wasn’t the fish she caught that mattered most of the time, even though she was usually lucky enough. It wasn’t the success or failure of the painting either. It was the doing of it that made her who she was.
Tomorrow would be better, Kamea reasoned. She would get back out on the water. She would get something good to bring back to Auntie’s for an evening meal. Uncle Leo missed getting the big Ahi he wanted, Kamea had learned, and she thought perhaps she could bring in a big one for him. If she focused on it and made it her goal over the next few days, it would help take her mind off Rebecca. See the Ahi in your mind, she whispered to herself. See the successful hunt and see the Ohana enjoying the feast a big Ahi would bring. See the end, and the details will fill themselves in.
Kamea decided she would return to the place she hunted the day she and Rebecca met. She could get off the water before the afternoon swells would start pounding the north shore. From the looks of the weather radar and the winds still blowing out of the south, she had a decent window over the next few days. Soon the winter swells would close her out of the windward side of the island for the season.
There was a two-tiered deep ledge there; the first one about fifty, and the second about a hundred feet down. The way the currents drove the smaller fish, they would drift together along the upper, and the big hunters would come up from below to feed on them. This is what she would do. She had hunted big Ono and Mahi there, and a few times had gotten lucky with an Ahi. This time of year was iffy, but she decided to see it in her mind already. The big Ahi would be hers.
But her mind drifted back to Rebecca. See the end, and the details will fill themselves in, she thought to herself. She knew what she wanted. If it worked for so many other things in her life, why not this? she wondered. She pulled into the driveway, turned off the ignition and closed her eyes. She imagined Rebecca; a soft smile on her face, her expression glowing as she neared her, the feel of her lips pressed against hers, the taste of her, the scent of her hair as it fell across her face, the sound of her breath. She felt the warmth rise in her and knew this was what she wanted more than anything. Perhaps Rebecca would find a way to come back? Perhaps if she kept the vision alive in her mind and heart, it would come to be? “You got it bad, Connolly,” she heard Kris’ tease again in her head. Yep.
She would have seen Jenny off at the airport today, Kamea remembered. It would be Rebecca’s turn to head back tomorrow.
CHAPTER 26 - REBECCA
Since that night—their last night together, Kamea’s words still echoed in Rebecca’s mind, resounded in her heart; “Being next to you, sharing life with you.” It was the answer she had wanted to hear. How could she ignore it?
Packing to leave, and I’d rather be spending it with Kamea, she thought. It was a late afternoon flight that would have her back to Detroit Metro early the next morning. She passed the previous day visiting Makawao; having lunch and shopping, then buying a few souvenir t-shirts and trinkets in Paia for friends and family back home. Tourist stuff, she thought. Didn’t want to come here and just be a tourist.
The decision to leave weighed heavy on her. It felt as though she was smothering her heart. Taking Jenny to the airport to catch her flight had gone as expected—more reasons why she should come back to work together again, more proclamations of how she missed her, and “we can be good together again; right, honey?” None of it did much to lighten her mood or make her look forward to a future back in the only place she knew as home.
I can’t make it here, she wondered. Can I? Her head wanted to keep giving her reasons for going back. The life she knew, would be better now; more money, and maybe, just maybe she could heal this thing that hung between her and Jenny. Maybe.
Another drive along the beach took her mind off things for a little while. She went to the small park where she watched the waves roll in to crash on the rocks—the place she almost lost her life, but for Kamea. The waves were smaller; the swells gentle today as the breeze came out of the south. It still caused a twinge of fear to look at the rocks, and so kept her distance to be safe. She would not take the sea for granted again.
But the water only reminded her more of Kamea, and so perhaps a stroll in the gardens would help—that meditation hut looking out over the valley. Yes.
It was still only mid-morning. The sun felt warm on her skin as it peeked in and out of clouds building upcountry. She ran her fingers along the length of the leaves and tall grasses as she walked, caressing them; concentrating on the moment, the beauty all around her. It was a gentle, winding path that led from the edge of the gardens to the spot overlooking the valley. And the view was something she wanted to remember, something she wanted to take home with her.
The sun continued to play hide and seek between the clouds. In the distance as far as she could see up the valley, the purple-blue below the clouds showed the signs of rain beginning to fall.
Try as she might, thoughts of what if Kamea were here? kept running through her mind. She questioned her logic; was she being too cautious returning home, thinking perhaps she would somehow be able to make it back one day, pick things up with Kamea where they left off? Was she deluding herself in fantasy? Or just afraid of throwing caution to the wind, moving here, only to have none of it work out?
She remembered the day at the waterfall; the sweet mango kisses and the little rainbow above them in the mist of the falls. How sweet a memory. She would treasure that.
The conflict still tore at her heart as she watched the rain move into the valley, coming her way. The distant veil of trees and fields began to disappear beneath sheets of soft rain; sunlight raking through the valley, clouds building overhead. It was almost too beautiful to take. She felt her eyes well up. It was as though the beauty found the ache in her heart, asking it to come out to be healed.
That’s when she saw the rainbow. The edges of the clouds were tinged with a golden light, contrasting the blue-purple shadows of rain below. She watched as a small patch of color became an arc, starting high up-slope, to end in the valley below. The rain moved in closer, the rainbow following the path the showers took through the valley; all coming her way.
A fine mist began to tickle her face, gentle and cool on her skin. The rainbow appeared even closer in the fine spray that began to envelop her. It reminded her of the mists of a garden sprinkler she would play in as a little girl. She found herself surrounded by the mist of rain; the colors of the rainbow moving closer—and much to her surprise—to end in the cupped hands she raised to receive them.
“I’m holding a rainbow!” she exclaimed to herself, smiling. She followed the colorful arc from the clouds above, to see it end in her hands; in her. This was the rainbow Auntie had told her about. This was her blessing. This was her sign that she was welcome here. She felt her heart swell, where only moments before it was weighed down, crushed, and stifled. The tears, welling in her eyes, ran down her face to meet the gentle mist of rain lighting on her cheeks. How could she go back now? How could she ignore this? What were the chances she would hold a rainbow and feel so welcomed and loved anywhere else?
She let the mist wash over her, felt the love swell in her heart, the rainbow still ending in her hands. Her heart seemed to grow to meet the expanse of everything in her field of vision and beyond when she held the rainbow—when she held the thought of Kamea along with it. She knew what she had to do.
* * *
Rebecca let the showers pass, watching the sun come out again as the clouds parted, the valley awash in a multitude of bright, fresh greens. She felt blessed. Felt the freshness wash over her too. She was in no hurry to return. She wouldn’t be catching that flight back to Detroit today. Not now. Not after this.
There wasn’t much of a signal for her phone at the edge of the valley where she stood. From the B&B, it wasn’t much better. But once connected, she was eventually able to cancel her flight and have a voucher held for a return trip to take care of business matters when the time would come.
Kamea’s ph
one went straight to voicemail. Perhaps she didn’t want to talk to her right now? To anyone? She would just have to go to see her, plead her case, and hope Kamea would still want her, forgive her for the hurt, for having been afraid to take the leap.
JonJon answered the door; “Hey, sista. Aren’t you leavin’ today?”
“Well,” Rebecca replied, sighing. Her heart pounded with anticipation—and just a little fear. “I was supposed to, yes. But, well, I just couldn’t go. I...”
JonJon cut her off. “I know you two gonna be right for each other. Known it since she dragged you ashore,” he said, chuckling. “She’s been bummin’ since the other night. She’s all twisted up with the thought of you goin’ back.
“Is she here?” Rebecca asked. “I can’t get a hold of her on the phone, and it looks like her truck is gone too. I really hoped I could see her,” she continued.
“She’s out spearin’—out past the place she went last week when you two met. Out in to deeper water—Just left a little while ago.
The thought crossed her mind maybe she could just wait here until Kamea got back. She felt so empowered by what she had seen less than an hour before though, she didn’t want to wait that long, didn’t want to play phone tag, didn’t want to leave anything more to chance. She had an idea.
“Are you working today?” she asked JonJon.
“Nope. Not till tomorrow.”
Rebecca looked to the side of the house and pointed; “Your double kayak over there...” she began.
“Watcha’ thinkin’?” he asked.
“Can you take me out to where she is? Please?”
“Um, yeah... but it might start to get a little rough out there, ya know?” he answered. “You sure you wanna go back to that place?”
“I’d like to surprise her, and... well... as long as I stay on the kayak, and have a lifeguard escort, I’m sure I’ll be fine,” the nerves fluttered in her stomach.
