Banana Split

by Josi S. Kilpack

Sadie didn’t fall asleep until after midnight despite feeling utterly exhausted. She had to get her circadian rhythm in order before Gayle came. She got up at nine the next morning, however, and spent a few hours cleaning up unit number five—a new family would be checking in that afternoon. Afterward, she took a shower and wrestled with her hair, trying to make it look as good as Lou had—impossible—made some more pancakes for lunch—delicious—and tried to do some basic research information on Nat and CeeCee. Unfortunately, like many people in Hawai’i, they both went by nicknames, and she couldn’t find anything.

  Sadie made it to Dr. McKay’s office with far less anxiety than she’d felt last time. She didn’t know how much to tell him, if anything at all. Would telling him what she’d done get Charlie or Mr. Olie in trouble? Could she talk about her goal to answer Charlie’s questions without actually talking about him? Maybe she should have canceled, but that worried her too. She’d felt better after her first appointment with Dr. McKay, and she knew both Pete and Gayle would be concerned if she canceled, so here she was, shredding Kleenex for the second time in a week.

  Dr. McKay asked how she was. She gave a basic answer, and he looked at her for a few seconds.

  “You got your hair done,” he said. “It looks nice.”

  Sadie raised a hand to her hair, unable not to smile about the compliment. He was the first person who’d noticed, and she wondered if maybe, as a psychiatrist, he’d had special training on identifying these types of details—it certainly didn’t come naturally for the typical man. “Thank you.” Would Pete have noticed her hair, she wondered?

  “What prompted the change?”

  “I was feeling better, and, well, my friend Gayle is coming to visit tomorrow. I couldn’t let her see me so undone.”

  “Your friend is coming,” Dr. McKay said. “Tell me about that.”

  It was the perfect topic to discuss—safe—and Sadie was able to relax as she explained the plans they’d made. Dr. McKay helped her identify some things that might be difficult—Gayle seeing her anxiety up close, not having so much personal space—and they discussed what Sadie could do to deal with those situations. Dr. McKay offered to talk to Gayle if Sadie felt it would be helpful. Sadie hoped that wouldn’t be necessary, but it felt good to have an option should she need it. He asked if she’d told her family about what had happened, and she explained that she’d talked to Pete every day, but her daughter was on a trip to Africa, studying wildebeest migration, and Shawn had enough on his plate. Dr. McKay didn’t question her choice to not tell Shawn, and she was grateful for that.

  “How are the nightmares?”

  “Better,” Sadie said, surprised by her own answer. But they had been better the last couple of nights. The realization was kind of exciting, and she decided to attempt to explore it with Dr. McKay. “I started learning about Noelani—the woman whose body I found.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You did?”

  She nodded, and before she knew it, she was downloading what she’d learned. She had plenty to say without bringing up Charlie. “Even though the toxicology reports won’t be ready for weeks, everyone assumes Noelani overdosed simply because there isn’t any other obvious cause of death.”

  “That bothers you?”

  “Yes,” Sadie said. “What if she didn’t? What if something else happened, but her past has led to people making assumptions that then are reflected within the investigation. If foul play occurred, the police might miss it if they’re so sure it was drugs.”

  “Foul play,” Dr. McKay repeated, still in his neutral position. “What made you jump to that possibility?”

  Sadie thought about that and realized there were other possible causes for Noelani’s death other than an overdose or murder. Suicide. An accident. She considered Dr. McKay for a moment before she dared admit why she hadn’t thought of those things. “I’m a magnet for murder,” she said.

  Dr. McKay raised his eyebrows. “And why would you say that?”

  It wasn’t as difficult as she thought it would be to tell him about her history. He made her feel comfortable and safe, and when she admitted the continual fear she had that her involvement was somehow connected to these incidents, he seemed to understand why she would feel that way.

  “I wonder why you take on so much responsibility for these things that have happened,” he said when she finished.

  “Well, I lived almost fifty-six years without ever coming face-to-face with a murderer, or a murder victim for that matter. In the last year and a half, my life has become overrun with both, and now someone wants to kill me. It’s hard to come up with another explanation other than the fact that something about me is . . . inviting these horrible things.”

  “Does there have to be an explanation?”

  Sadie pulled her eyebrows together. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, do you have to have a solid answer? Does it have to be your fault or not be your fault? Could it be that events are happening around you that other people might ignore, but you have an interest and ability that draws you in? Maybe for the first fifty-six years of your life you were interested in other things, and then that changed.”

  Sadie blinked. It was a completely new idea. A totally different perspective. She thought back over the cases she’d been involved in. Hadn’t she chosen to try to figure out what the police were missing when her neighbor Anne wound up dead in the field behind her house? There had been at least a hundred people present when the gun went off at the library fundraiser, but she had been the only one who put herself into the middle of things. In Oregon, she’d actually been hired to find answers.

  Dr. McKay was watching her, and she blinked again. “I hadn’t thought about it that way. But you’re right, I’ve always had the option to not become involved.” She thought on that vein a little longer, then tilted her head and looked strongly at her therapist. “So, perhaps what I should be trying to figure out is why I can’t seem to stay away.”

  Dr. McKay nodded and smiled, making her feel like the teacher’s pet. His glance flickered behind her, where she knew a clock hung on the wall. “We’re out of time today, so we’ll have to work on that next week. Before we finish, though, I want to leave you with one thought.”

  Sadie nodded, eager to hear what he had to say.

  “One of the aspects of anxiety and depression is that the person becomes very self-focused,” he said.

  Sadie felt instant shame.

  “It’s not right or wrong, Sadie, it’s simply something that can happen. The funny thing about anxiety and depression is that the more you think about it, the more focused on it you become and the bigger part of your life it takes over. My suggestion for you is to look for ways to get outside of yourself a little more. I think learning about Noelani is a good start. And you seem to be feeling better, right?”

  “Yes,” Sadie said, but she was thinking about everything she’d done that she hadn’t told Dr. McKay about—Charlie’s list and helping Mr. Olie. It made her feel bad to have not included her therapist in those things, and yet she also felt a boost of confidence that she’d already started on a path he was now recommending.

  “Good,” Dr. McKay said, smiling. “Keep those things in mind. Be careful of being too hard on yourself, and good luck with your friend.” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a card. “This has my cell number. If you need me before our next visit on Monday, give me a call, okay?”

  Chapter 21

  It was invigorating to feel as though everything she’d done was conscious rather than accidental or somehow fated. She’d made choices, and they had led her in certain directions that hadn’t always been positive, but right now she was safe from the threat that had followed her since Boston. She was on a tropical island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. She had changed her cell phone number, e-mail, and used her Facebook account only to read other people’s statuses—she hadn’t updated her own in months. Only a handful of people knew where she was. The hiding place she’d
chosen had worked. Circumstances hadn’t changed from a week or a month ago, but something inside her had. Empowerment? Was that the word for it?

  Sadie let herself into her condo and locked the door. One, two, three. Then she pulled out Charlie’s list. She could maintain control of this, she could stop whenever she wanted to, but she might also be able to do some good, and doing something for someone else might be the key to her own healing. Come Monday, she might have a much more interesting discussion with Dr. McKay.

  She immediately went to her computer and opened up a new document, typing notes as quickly as she could remember them. After she’d dumped all the info onto the page, she organized it into what she’d learned from whom and then took a few minutes to type out all the questions she had. They were extensive and a little overwhelming. She had hoped to hear from Mr. Olie, but realized she hadn’t given him her number except on the voice mail she’d left yesterday morning, before they’d met. Maybe tomorrow she’d call his office and see if he had any kind of update. She called Pete and talked to him about her day, and by the time she was finished, she was energized enough to go to Kalaheo.

  Pete had suggested she stay the night at the motel where Noelani had worked in Kalaheo so she’d have time to talk to the people Noelani had worked with and wouldn’t have to try to find a way back to Puhi if she stayed late. Sadie thought it was a great idea, and it took all of five minutes to pack her laptop, an extra muumuu, and a change of underclothes. She folded the stack of papers she’d printed off—articles, Noelani’s obituary, and the photo of Noelani and Charlie—and threw them in along with her deodorant almost as an afterthought. Everything fit easily in her shoulder bag, and for an instant she considered how the old Sadie would pack everything she could possibly imagine needing while she was away. She’d have lists and maps, and she’d have triple-checked everything. Should she be doing that now? Considering every contingency? After another moment of contemplation, however, she pushed the thought aside—just thinking about it made her tired. And how often had she actually used the space blanket or fabric scissors?

  She took a deep breath. Stood. Squared her shoulders and called a cab. By the time it arrived, her anxiety was creeping up on her but being dropped off at the Sand and Sea Motel in Kalaheo reaffirmed her decision was the right one—doing something seemed to make all the difference.

  The single-level white stucco motel looked recently updated due to the bright, still shiny, teal trim. The horseshoe-shaped building opened to the street, but a black wrought-iron fence created a barrier between the street and the courtyard, a pool, and a few lawn chairs. On one end of the building, a vacancy sign glowed in the window and, above the door, a sign said Office. It wasn’t a large motel, and it looked like it could use some more TLC, but it was likely affordable, and that counted for something. She looked up at the sign fifteen feet off the ground where the name of the motel was written in big bubbly letters, a generic pink hibiscus flower in the lower corner. The changeable marquee beneath the custom sign offered rooms with free Wi-Fi for the lowest rates in town. Sadie paid the cab driver, then headed into the office.

  A young haole with long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail smiled at her from the other side of the desk. “Can I help you?”

  Sadie asked for a room, and the young woman—Ashley—searched around the counter until she found a paper for Sadie to fill out. Then she fiddled with the computer, but seemed frustrated with whatever she saw on the screen. It took several attempts before she successfully charged Sadie’s card; she’d have be sure to check and make sure it wasn’t charged four times.

  “When did you start working here?” she asked when Ashley handed back her card.

  The girl’s face reddened, contrasting with the green-and-white Hawaiian shirt she wore. “Is it that obvious?” she said, attempting a laugh.

  Sadie smiled. “You’re doing great, but learning curves are really intense sometimes.”

  “No kidding,” Ashley said, smiling at Sadie with bright white teeth that matched the broken shell necklace around her neck. “So of course the computer froze on me, and the people in eighteen were playing the TV so loud that nineteen called to complain.” She took a deep breath, raised her shoulders, and then lowered them.

  “Tomorrow will be easier,” Sadie said, offering a commiserating smile. “Are you from Kaua’i?”

  “Just moved here,” Ashley said with a nod. “My cousin has lived here for a few years and needed a roommate.” She handed Sadie some papers. “Just fill out this top paper with your phone number and local address, if you have one.”

  “Sure,” Sadie said. She started filling in the information. “So, did you know Noelani?” she asked, hoping it sounded casual.

  “Who?”

  “Noelani Pouhu—she used to work here.”

  The girl looked confused, then her face fell. “Oh, the girl who died?”

  Chapter 22

  Yeah, so sad,” Ashley said, making a pouty face. “I guess she was a druggy or something. Did I remind you about the continental breakfast? It’s from seven to ten here in the lobby. Totally free.” She smiled again.

  Sadie nodded. “Thanks,” she said, pondering the fact that this girl was likely Noelani’s replacement. She finished filling out the paperwork and handed it back. She couldn’t think of anything else to ask so she headed to her room—number nine, far away from the blaring TV of eighteen, for which Sadie was grateful.

  She unpacked her meager supplies, mostly because she didn’t like knowing she had undies in her shoulder bag, then went back to the front desk and asked Ashley if she knew where the Fellowship of Kaua’i Christian Church was located; the church had been mentioned by name in Noelani’s obituary. Ashley didn’t know, but she looked it up on the computer.

  “It’s not too far,” she said as she printed off a map and handed it to Sadie.

  It was less than a five-minute walk to get there, and when she arrived, Sadie was pretty sure the motel was back-to-back with the church, or at least close; she hadn’t had to cross any streets, anyway. It was nice the church was so convenient, and she wondered if Noelani had chosen to attend the church because it was close to the motel or to work at the motel because it was close to the church.

  The church building was one big square of white stucco with angled walls on the ends that led the eye upward to the large cross on top of the building. Beside the recessed doorway was black lettering that said Fellowship of Kaua’i Christian. The name didn’t quite roll off the tongue, but it communicated its nondenominational Christian base well enough.

  Sadie crossed the small parking lot—nearly full this time of evening, which surprised her—and started up the wide sidewalk toward the front doors of the church. Before she reached the steps, however, she heard laughter from the back of the building and changed her course, following a narrow sidewalk around the south side of the building. The laughter and voices got louder.

  While the church may have been all business out front, it was a party in the back—literally. A volleyball net had been set up in the middle of a large, grassy area, and a dozen teenagers and young adults hit a beach ball back and forth over the net. Adults were seated at some picnic tables in the shade of some twelve-foot palm trees, enjoying what looked like a hot dog dinner while a handful of little kids played on a swing set off to the side.

  “Aloha ahiahi.”

  The middle-aged man who’d addressed her as he approached wasn’t exceptionally tall, under six feet, and wore a red Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts; she’d seen the outfit so many times it seemed as though it were practically a uniform on the island. He had a puka shell necklace around his neck, and his teeth looked too white against his overly tanned face. He gripped her hand and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. Despite being on the island for three months, Sadie still wasn’t used to the affectionate greetings some of the locals gave so freely. He straightened and moved his hand to the small of her back, guiding her toward a table of food near the church. />
  “You’re just in time,” he said. “As soon as that game’s over”—he nodded toward the nets—“those boys will make short work of these leftovers, yeah? We better get you served up before they start viewing you as competition.”

  A teenage boy in a white T-shirt and black-and-yellow board shorts dove for the beach ball and face planted into the grass instead, eliciting a burst of laughter from everyone, including her host. They reached the buffet while Sadie was still trying to keep up with the conversation, and he put a plate in her hands. “Macaroni salad and fruit?”

  “Oh, um, I wasn’t really invited to this,” Sadie said, finally finding her voice as he began serving her. “I just came to talk to Pastor Darryl.”

  “At your service,” he said, flashing her another smile as he put a scoop of macaroni salad on her plate. “But I wasn’t kidding about the circling sharks.” He nodded toward the game again. “We’ll get you fixed up, and then we can make proper introductions, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” Sadie said, nodding. It made so much sense for her to eat at a party she hadn’t been invited to when he said it like that. “Um, thanks.”