Ink and Ashes

by Valynne E. Maetani

  I shivered again, and my lips trembled. “Glad my anxiety was entertaining for you.”

  He tapped his finger against my lips. “You’re such a perfectionist. You had that look, and you kept muttering about how long the fur was taking because you had to paint each individual strand. You were getting so frustrated.” He bent down, picked up one of my shoes, and slipped it on my foot.

  I shoved my foot into the other heel. “Ugh, I remember trying to paint those stupid eyes.”

  “But the way you were worrying about it was adorable.” Forrest put his arm around my shoulder and reeled me into his side. “I’d seen every side of you since we were kids, and I realized I still loved everything about you.”

  I stretched up and kissed him. Forrest wrapped his arms around me. His kisses were gentle at first and then hungry, and everything about him was like snow, and I wondered how I had gone so long without knowing how beautiful something can be. All the hurts in the world could never make me regret the experience of seeing for the first time.

  By the time we came up for air, my body had stopped shivering, but I was still cold, and every bit of me dripped with water. “I’m going to the restroom to see if I can dry up some of this,” I said, sliding my hand from his.

  “I think I’m going to try to do the same,” he said, “and then I’ll get us something to drink.”

  As I made my way out of the gym and into the hallway, I overhead Mr. Tama on his phone. Like almost everyone else, he hadn’t joined the revelry in the rain and was still completely dry. From what I could tell, he was costumed as someone from Hawaii. His Aloha shirt was the typical collared Hawaiian dress shirt with a wild floral print, shirt pocket, and buttons down the front. On the bottom he wore blue board shorts that ended below his knees.

  “Ho, you seen dat show dah oddah night, brah?” he said.

  I stopped and smiled. I’d lived in Hawaii long enough to know that almost all the residents, no matter what their racial or cultural background was, spoke Hawaiian pidgin. And when I heard Mr. Tama speaking this simpler form of English, I knew he had lived there too.

  “Ah, buggah,” he said. “Okay, if can, can, if no can, no can.” He ended his call.

  He saw me and came over. “Hey, Claire.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I kind of heard you on the phone. I didn’t realize you were from Hawaii.” I wiped at some drops running down my face. “I guess the Aloha shirt you’re wearing should have been my first clue. I was actually born there.”

  “Fo’ real?” He folded his arms. “No tell da oddahs I talk pidgin, yeah?” He winked and changed his pronunciation and intonation. “I wouldn’t want anyone to think I was unprofessional.”

  I laughed. “My dad can do that too,” I said. “He can turn the pidgin off and on like a switch. Your secret’s safe with me.”

  His dark eyes swept over me from head to toe. “Why are you all wet?”

  “We were messing around in the rain.” I folded my arms across my chest, thankful I’d worn a dark T-shirt instead of a white one.

  He nodded. “And are you fully recovered?” His fingers fumbled to return his phone to his shirt pocket as he kept his focus on me.

  “I still have a few bruises, but—” I gasped as the phone fell in his pocket and he took his hand away. “But I’m much better, thank you.”

  “Is something wrong?” he asked.

  “No,” I said.

  The pocket on his shirt was missing a koa wood button.

  THE BUTTON LOOKED like a decorative one—not meant to keep the pocket closed—so maybe he hadn’t realized it was missing. Was this a coincidence? The gears in my head kicked into full steam. My breaths were rapid, so I tried to focus and regain my composure. “So where did you live in Hawaii?” I asked.

  “McCully area by da shopping centah, and Mililani little bit,” he said, reverting back to pidgin. “How ’bout you?”

  “Hawaii Kai,” I said, drawing in large breaths to slow my pulse. I knew it might be a stretch, but he had a missing button, and I’d never been quite sure where the business card had come from. “Did you by chance ever live in Waipahu?”

  His face stretched as if all the air had been sucked from his lungs. “Uh, yes. I did for a couple of years.” The pidgin had vanished, and he sounded more formal. He paused. “Why do you ask?”

  Crap. Why was I asking? What could I come up with that would be believable? “My uncle did some work with a nonprofit group there, and you kind of remind me of him.” I caught myself swaying from side to side, and I stilled my legs.

  He looked right at me with an intense gaze. “What was your uncle’s name?”

  Double crap. Crap. Crap. “Takeshi Kitano.” It was the first name that came to my mind. I hoped he didn’t recognize the name of the man who was famous for directing many of the yakuza films we’d seen. “Anyway, I’m going to go dry off. Good talking to you.” Before he could answer, I turned around and ran.

  Instead of drying off, I sprinted back into the gym, searching until I found Forrest standing next to Mom at the drink table. I practically leaped into his arms.

  “Miss me?” he asked, and then he read my expression.

  I pulled Forrest away from the table before Mom could see me, dragging him across to the opposite side of the gym. “Mr. Tama,” I said. “I think he was the one who broke into my room.”

  I told him about the button, and I could tell he was still skeptical. “He’s from Hawaii. Maybe that’s how he knew my father.”

  “Claire, you have to be careful,” he said. “All you have are coincidences.”

  “But it’s not just any button. It’s made out of koa wood. I recognize the patterns and the coloring,” I said. My heartbeat raced faster. “I’ve only seen that wood used in Hawaii. It has to be his button. And I found this business card under my bed for a nonprofit group in Waipahu, which is a city in Hawaii, and I didn’t know where it had come from, but there’s a prison there. And when I asked him if he’d ever lived there, he said he had for a couple of years.”

  “You can’t just go accuse a teacher of something like this.”

  “I know.” I squeezed both of his hands in mine and looked him in the eye. “I need to get more proof.” My grip on him had turned my knuckles white, and I realized I was probably cutting off his circulation too. I let go.

  “Don’t do this.” Forrest shook his head and grabbed me by the shoulders. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but stop. Get it out of your head right now. We should tell your dad.”

  “What if I’m wrong?” Ninety-nine percent of me was positive it was Mr. Tama. If I made a mistake, it could ruin him. I paused and let everything sink in. But charging ahead could mean ruin for me. “Okay.” I looked toward the table of drinks, but only Mom was there. “Where is he?”

  “Your mom said he had to run an errand, or go do something—I don’t know—but he should be back soon.”

  The prickly feeling returned to my stomach. Where had Dad gone? Who needed to do errands at this time of night? I could call him and tell him to come back, but what would I be telling him to come back from? I remembered that GPS disk I had slipped into his briefcase. Chances are he didn’t have the briefcase on him, but it was worth a try. “Wait here,” I said.

  I ran to the bale of hay, retrieved my phone from the pocket in my sash, and swiped at my screen as I returned. “This GPS app shows Dad’s location is at the house, which means either he’s there with the briefcase, or he’s somewhere else and his briefcase is at home.”

  Forrest shook his head. “I don’t even dare ask how you got that and what you did with it. You’re scary sometimes, you know that?”

  “Of course I know.” If I confronted Mom about where he’d gone, there was little chance I would know if she was telling me the truth. My only other option was to go home.

  As much as I wanted to believe he really did have some errand to run, I couldn’t escape that niggling feeling in the pit of my stomach. An
d then I remembered the app had historical data I had meant to check but had never gotten to because of the accident.

  “On the night our tree was on fire, I had been surprised to see him home because he was supposed to be in Phoenix.” I selected that date. An orange swoosh swirled on the screen as the data loaded.

  My breath hitched.

  Forrest looked over my shoulder. He gasped. “Oh no.”

  Dad hadn’t been in Phoenix, Arizona. He’d been in Los Angeles, California.

  My mind scrambled, trying to think of what good reason he might have to lie to us. I thought I was going to be sick, but I checked another date anyway, one after my accident, wetness pooling in the corners of my eyes. I gulped. A tear ran down my cheek.

  Dad hadn’t been in New York. He’d been in Honolulu, Hawaii.

  Forrest grabbed me and pulled me into his arms, wrapping around me so tight I could hardly breathe. “Tell me what to do,” he said, pressing his cheek against my forehead.

  Run. I wanted to run. I breathed in Forrest’s scent of rain and musk. People I loved could get hurt. “I’m going to call an APM. We need to find out if my dad is working with Mr. Tama.”

  Right after I had gathered the guys together by the wall on the south end of the gym, Dad carried a large tub full of ice across the gym and set it on the table of drinks. I recognized the tub as one from our cafeteria. Maybe his errand was legitimate, and he’d been scooping ice from the machine in the school’s kitchen for the past five minutes. It didn’t matter. He’d lied to us about being in Phoenix, New York, and who knows where else.

  I couldn’t even stand to look at him. “Keep dancing so Dad doesn’t suspect anything.” I had to speak up so everyone could hear me over the music.

  Fed stood across from me, his lanky arms and legs swinging in every direction. “I can’t dance and talk at the same time.”

  “Please stop,” Nicholas said to him. He put a hand on Fed’s shoulder.

  Fed stood still and tugged his black Zorro-looking mask down, letting it hang around his neck.

  “So what are we doing?” Avery asked.

  “Whatever it is, I’m in,” Fed said, flexing his muscles.

  Forrest clung to my hand as I told them about the button and the business card and the Waiawa Circle of Friends and how Mr. Tama said he’d lived in Waipahu. No one was very close to us, but because of the loud volume we needed to speak with in order to compete with the music, I kept scanning the crowd, worried we would be overheard. If we moved outside the gym where it was quieter, Dad would notice we were all missing.

  “A prison?” Parker flailed his hands, which were the only part of his body sticking out the sides of his bowling-ball costume. On any other day it would have been comical, but no one was in a laughing mood. “Our father sentenced people to prison.”

  “I know,” I said.

  Nicholas raised a brow, his nose scrunching up. “Are you sure? I mean, I get what you’re saying, but he doesn’t seem like someone who would do something like this. I really like this guy.” His shoulders slumped. “He’s the best debate coach I’ve ever had.”

  If I’d really thought he was second-guessing me, I might have been offended, but I knew he was processing his disappointment. And there were a lot worse things to be upset over. “I liked him too.” I tilted my head up to meet his eyes. “But I need to search his messenger bag and possibly his classroom to see if I can find anything that links him to our father.”

  “There are teachers patrolling the whole school so that exact thing doesn’t happen.” Nicholas took the black fedora off his head and combed his fingers through his hair. He glanced over at my parents. “Not to mention your dad, who is going to tear this school apart if you are missing more than one minute. We should tell him so he can help us.”

  I blinked hard and blinked again. Forrest put his arm around my shoulder. I inhaled and released the air and then I told them what I’d discovered about Dad.

  Nicholas’s body went rigid. “No,” he growled, shaking his head. “There has to be a good reason he lied to you.”

  Avery’s eyes crumpled into an anguish I’d never seen on him before. He turned to Nicholas. “Don’t you think we want to believe that? He’s really the only dad I’ve ever known. But we don’t get the luxury of giving anyone else the benefit of the doubt right now. The only people I know I trust are standing right here.” He pointed in my direction, but kept his focus on Nicholas, fire burning in his cheeks. “Someone tried to kill Claire. I could be next. Parker could be next. I don’t want to wake up thinking someone is trying to burn our house down. I don’t want to be scared anymore. We need to find a way to put an end to this.”

  No one said anything. I barely recognized my little brother. Parker glanced at me. The soft look in his eyes told me his heart ached for Avery in the same way mine did. If anyone understood Avery, it was Parker and me.

  “Tell us what you need us to do,” Nicholas said, breaking the silence. His voice barely cut through the music.

  I barked out orders, military style, not wanting to waste any more time. “Okay, the teacher’s lounge is by the front entrance. We know from last year’s Halloween dance that even if the door’s closed, it should be unlocked because the door to the nurse’s station is in the back.”

  “You’re welcome,” Parker said, bowing his head. Last year he’d come dressed as a vending machine, a costume he’d spent a month making. He’d surrounded himself in a clear plastic box with arm and leg holes, an open top, stuffed animals around his body. But because he couldn’t see where he was walking, he’d tripped on an empty cup and cut his forehead open when he hit the drinking fountain.

  “You guys need to stand guard. Text me if someone’s coming, and cause a distraction so I have time to hide. I’m going to get in there, look for his locker, and see if his messenger bag is in there,” I said. “If it is, I’ll see what I can find. If it’s not, I need to get into the history classroom in the west wing. Every dance so far, they’ve had two teachers patrolling each hall. Usually they stand at the entrance of the wing so no one can get past. Parker, you’re going to fall down close to the west-wing entrance but far enough that you can draw them away. Fall on your back and act like you’ve hurt yourself again. It’s not going to be a hard sell since, once again, you can’t see where you’re walking.” I gestured in a circular motion to his bowling-ball costume. “If anyone tries to roll you, then start howling in pain.”

  I pointed to Fed. “You’re going to call for help and draw the teachers in front of the west wing away from the hall. As soon as they leave, Nicholas and I are going to sprint to the classroom. Mr. Tama didn’t have his messenger bag on him when I saw him, and if it’s not in the teacher’s lounge, it’s probably locked in his desk drawer. I’ll get into the drawer, and Nicholas will search the rest of the classroom.”

  “We’re counting on you to get the door to the classroom and the desk drawer unlocked?” Nicholas combed his fingers through his hair again and put his fedora back on.

  “Yeah.”

  Nicholas cursed. I hadn’t shared any of my lock-picking skills with the guys, so I suppose I deserved that, but I didn’t have time to explain.

  “If someone starts to come back, you’ve got to text us, Fed, so we can get out of there.” I looked at Avery. “If Mom or Dad even look like they’re about to leave, you need to try and stall them.”

  “I can do that,” Avery said.

  Forrest raised his hand. “So what am I supposed to do?”

  “I need you to get our kimonos, and then your job is to keep my dad away.”

  Forrest cursed.

  I turned to Fed. “I’m going to need to borrow your date.”

  Fed cursed.

  “And her costume,” I said.

  He cursed again.

  ASHLEY MET ME in the girls’ bathroom.

  “So why am I doing this?” she asked. She took off her Sailor Moon costume and draped it over the stall.

  I traded
it for my kimono and sash. “Payback,” I said.

  We both knew she didn’t care if I got payback. Ashley and I had been soccer teammates, but that wasn’t the bond that brought her here. She was here because of Fed, and anyone who was willing to do something because it was important to Fed was someone who’d automatically earned a lot of my respect.

  “Does this have anything to do with Chase?” she asked.

  “I’m about to find out.”

  Ashley was a little smaller than I was, so it was a tight fit, but I squeezed myself inside. It hugged every curve of my body, which was disgusting because of the way it fit, and because the dress was still wet. She was in my wet shirt and shorts, so I shouldn’t have been complaining when Ashley was the one doing me a favor.

  I exited the stall and looked at my reflection in the mirror. If I bent over too far, someone was going to get a show, and I’m not sure where she’d gotten the outfit, but the V-neck collar went much lower than I was comfortable with. I wasn’t necessarily well-endowed in the chest area, but the tight fit of the costume made the top half more like a corset.

  “Uh, I’m going to need help,” she said from inside the stall. She opened the door and walked out.

  She had gotten the kimono on, with my shirt and shorts underneath, but needed help with the obi. I wrapped the sash around her waist, and had to concentrate because tying it on myself was different than tying it on someone else. When I finally figured it out, I bloused the top half of the kimono over the sash so the bottom didn’t drag on the floor.

  Our hair was the same color and straight, but her hair was a lot longer than mine. She took the elastics out of her hair, then pulled it back and started to twist it into a bun.

  “I’m going to need to hang onto some of these bobby pins,” I said, “but you can use the rest.”