Red Sky Over Hawaii

by Sara Ackerman

  No one said anything until Snyder asked, “So what does your husband do, Mrs. Hitchcock?”

  Anyone who had been around Hawaii long enough had heard the name, but Snyder appeared fresh off the boat from Middle America.

  “He’s in business,” she said.

  “Not a lot of business in these parts. He connected with the Volcano House somehow?”

  “No, but speaking of—what are they going to do now that we’re at war?” she said, happy for a chance to switch subjects.

  “We have more troops heading in soon. Likely we can house them there,” Grant said.

  In that case she had better hurry up and finagle mattresses. She was curious to see the new building, and also Uncle Theo, who may or may not remember her from her scrawny young teenage days. As they drove, Lana did her best to avoid looking at Grant.

  “You can drop me off at this next corner,” she said as they approached the road to Hale Manu.

  “We’ll take you to your house.”

  “The truck is parked just down the way. I thought it would be safer to ride around town on the bicycle, though I guess I was wrong about that,” she said.

  She saw his eyes smile in the rearview mirror. He pulled into the road and cut the engine. “If you have any ice, I would ice that bump on your head, and take it easy for the next day or two. In case there’s a concussion. Is your husband home to help you?”

  “Not at the moment.”

  He paused, looking like he wanted to pursue that line of questioning, but instead said, “Hey, let me have a look at your eyes.”

  Before she could say anything, he jumped out of the car and came around to her side, opening her door. She stood right up, in order to avoid touching him again, wiping her palm on her muddy skirt to erase any residual static from his hand.

  He bent down slightly and stepped closer. “A little that way, toward the light.”

  Lana turned her head and showed him her eyes. He stared into them, unflinching and very doctor-like. “Hmm. Your pupils look normal, but your eyes are two different shades of brown—did you know that?”

  She laughed. “I do. They’ve always been that way.”

  He reddened. “Of course you would. Just making sure it wasn’t some odd reaction to bumping your head.”

  Where earlier she had wanted to get away from him as fast as possible, now she wanted him to keep talking, to invite all of them down to the house for an afternoon picnic, where the men could ask their questions and see that Mrs. Kano and her granddaughter were nothing but hardworking community members trying to make a living. And then they would return them to the store and life would go on as usual.

  “Well, then, you have a nice afternoon, Mrs. Hitchcock, and get some rest. Doctor’s orders,” he said.

  “What about my bicycle?”

  “How about I leave it at the store for you tomorrow,” he said.

  “Will it be okay for me to drive? They’re asking people to stay off the roads.”

  “Anyone gives you a hard time, tell ’em you’re meeting me on official business.”

  Before turning away, she stooped down and spoke into the car, to the women in the back seat. “I’ll look forward to seeing the both of you tomorrow, back at the store.” And to Grant she said, “Thank you for your help, sir.”

  THE COLD

  The house was empty. Lana found Mochi and Benji cutting wood out back. Or rather Benji was cutting it and Mochi was supervising from a homemade bench. Benji was slight of build in the same way that Mochi was, but she’d seen Mochi hoist a fish bigger than she was right into the boat and knew that looks could be deceptive.

  “Have you seen the girls?” she asked.

  Mochi pointed toward a grassy path that led away from the driveway. “They walked that way about twenty minutes ago. What happened to you?”

  “I had a flat, no big deal.”

  She was glad Marie and Coco had Sailor with them, but still, it was easy to get turned around out here, not to mention hidden cracks in the lava, and tree molds—gaping holes that were once trees. And once the sun came out in the Ka‘ū Desert, temperatures soared. Though today they’d be more in danger from fog than overheating.

  “Did you find what you were looking for?” Mochi said.

  “Nope.” She suddenly thought of Major Bailey. Holding the handkerchief up to her mouth, his strong hands and that funny way her hand had stuck to his. “Not at all.”

  “Something happened,” Mochi said.

  Lana hesitated. “I should find the girls. I’ll tell you when I get back.”

  She followed the overgrown path that wound around a grove of young cypress trees. Their tangy scent reminded her of California, and of another lifetime, when she herself had been a lost young girl with a big hole in her heart. Her aunt had taken her in after the incident, but she never felt at home there. Being sent somewhere did that to a person.

  Upon learning that she was with child at the unripe age of seventeen, Jack went from an eccentric and loving father to a red-face maniac who then broke down in tears and that night ordered her to the mainland on the first available ship. Ironically the main issue wasn’t the pregnancy: Jack was convinced Lana would die during childbirth, as her mother had. But abortions were more dangerous than childbirth; anyone knew that. Lana begged and pleaded and stomped her feet. She tried to reason with him, but he wouldn’t hear it. He knew a doctor who could save her.

  Before the trip, she’d dreamed of running off and having the baby in Kona or Honolulu. She brought it up to Alika, the father, but he went pale and told her a baby wasn’t in his plans. Two days later he moved to Waimea. She was terrified to go to California but didn’t know what else to do. When she left, she swore she would never go back to Hilo.

  On the wintery crossing, the seas were rough and frothy. Lana, who was already nauseated, became even more ill. She spent all day in her bunk, unable to keep anything down, not even saltines. More troubling were the red spots that began peppering her body and others’ aboard the ship.

  The day before they made it to port, Lana woke in a pool of blood with sharp pangs in her abdomen. By the time they docked, she had a high fever and was in and out of consciousness. She remembered being carried out first on a stretcher, with rain snaking down around her. Several days later she woke up in a hospital room. Aunt Ginger sat by her side. Lana heard the words measles, hopeless, lucky to be alive. She closed her eyes and slept for another two days.

  When she finally came out of it, the doctor told her they’d had to remove one ovary, and during the procedure to save her, damage had been done to other female parts that may render her sterile. But the good news was she was going to be okay. Well, that was easy for him to say.

  True to her word, she stayed away. Worked herself through two years of college and then met Buck. She was drawn to his confidence and the way he knew what he wanted in life. Not only that but he was a Hawaii boy, and when he persuaded her to come back to Honolulu with him, she couldn’t refuse. The islands were in her blood, and she had missed them terribly. There were things about California she liked—the wide-open skies and the cool air, the endless supply of fresh oranges and strawberries, and how you could drive flat across the country if you wanted to—but nothing compared to home.

  And now she was really home, though for all the wrong reasons. She called out to the girls, but only birds answered back in chirps and squeaks and wing flutters. How far could they have gone? Clumps of grass had grown as high as her knees, but at one point someone had mowed a trail through here. The surrounding ‘ohi‘a and koa trees were huge, an area missed entirely by recent flows. One would never know that less than a mile away the whole forest had been covered over with fields of crisp black lava. A little way on, she came upon a big open barn-like structure and a paddock.

  Somewhere up ahead, there was a commotion in the trees. “Girls, is t
hat you?” Lana shouted.

  The ground beneath her feet rumbled, and two horses came galloping out through an opening, manes flapping and nostrils flared. One painted, one black. They were coming right at her, and instead of jumping one way or another, Lana was fastened in place. They went around her as though she were a stone in a river. Their sweaty, dusty and familiar scent swept past her. A strange place to see wild horses, but Keauhou Ranch was not too far away, as the crow flies. Perhaps they had gotten loose from there.

  A moment later Coco and Marie came traipsing out of the trees with Sailor at their heels, looking a little sheepish. Both girls had rosy cheeks.

  “Did you see the horses?” Coco said.

  “They almost trampled me flat.”

  Marie pointed behind them. “There’s a pasture back there. They were grazing and I think Sailor scared them. Even though her tail went between her legs the minute she saw them.”

  “Sailor is a scaredy-cat,” Coco said.

  “Horses are big animals. She has a right to be frightened. Say, it’s not a good idea to go off on your own until we set some boundaries together. It’s easy to get lost out here. Okay?” Lana said.

  “We stayed on the trail.”

  “That’s smart of you. How far down does this go?”

  They turned around and walked through the trees, showing Lana where they’d found the horses. At the far end of the well-grazed pasture was a line of pine trees, and beyond that it was hard to tell.

  “On this end, how about you don’t venture past that tree line, until we know.”

  “What are we going to do all day?” Coco asked.

  With the schools closed indefinitely, Lana had wondered the same thing. “We have your books, we have my dad’s books, and there’s much to be done around the house. I promise you won’t get bored.”

  Coco’s little mind was elsewhere, Lana could tell by the way she chewed her lip and got a faraway look in her eye. “Can we ride the horses?” she finally said.

  “Did you bring a saddle?” Marie asked Coco.

  “I don’t own a saddle. You know that.”

  “Well, then, how are you going to ride them?” Marie said.

  Coco looked to be on the verge of tears.

  “They seemed kind of wild. But maybe we can make friends with them. Would you like that?” Lana said.

  Coco nodded.

  * * *

  After polishing off a late lunch of peanut butter–and–marmalade sandwiches, which Coco willingly ate, Lana wanted nothing more than to take a hot shower, climb into her own bed, pull a pillow over her head and go to sleep. Instead they all went out back and got to work on the wall. Benji had cut studs to nail into place, and after that someone could hammer on the slats. The problem was they had only one hammer.

  “Good work, Benji. We may not freeze to death here after all,” she said.

  “What about beds?” Mochi said.

  “I got a flat tire before I could get to Volcano House. Iris Kano said to check there since there won’t be any guests. Do you know her?”

  “Never liked the cold, so I stayed Hilo side.”

  “You mean you’ve never been up here?”

  Everyone had been to Volcano. It was Hawaii’s most popular destination. Who wouldn’t want to see an active volcano? Though eruptions came and went throughout the years, the otherworldly landscape remained.

  “Nope.”

  She noted how some people were such creatures of habit, happy in their own small corners of the world, day in and day out. Others were not content unless they were sailing across the globe to faraway lands. Lana fancied herself somewhere in between, though to be honest, Buck was always too busy to travel, and she had been stuck on O‘ahu for longer than she cared to be.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re here now. With us. I know it’s under the worst of circumstances. But at least we’re together,” she said.

  Minus a few people.

  Mochi was sitting on a stump. “So where’s your bike?”

  “Two soldiers helped me. They were at the store and they passed when I fell. They said they’d take it back to the store for me.”

  “Why are there so many soldiers here?” he asked.

  “It sounds like the Kīlauea Military Camp is going to be turned into headquarters of some kind. There are troops on the way.”

  Coco, who was intent on building a tower out of wood scraps, said, “Can we use their phone?”

  “We can use the phone at the store tomorrow. I need to go back and grab my bike.”

  “Why not today?”

  “Mrs. Kano closed up the store early today.”

  Coco bit her lip and went back to work.

  “Japanese?” Mochi said.

  “Most people who live up here year-round are Japanese.”

  Marie and Lana took turns holding the studs in place while Benji hammered. No one said much as they worked, and Lana got the impression that Marie and Benji were avoiding each other in that awkward teenage way. By the time they had all the studs up, her arms were burning. And they still had the siding to attach. Darkness would be here soon.

  “We only have one more box of nails, and this won’t go far,” Benji said, searching the area for more, with no luck. The boy looked exhausted.

  Another cold night on the hard floor. Wonderful. At least they weren’t sleeping in a makeshift prison cell, she reminded herself. “Why don’t you and Marie hold the boards, and I’ll hammer, just until we get this one row on. Then we’ll eat.”

  Benji sighed. “Thank you.”

  Lana was no stranger to a hammer. Having a father who built everything himself would do that to a girl. Over the years she’d helped him build a tree house, beehives, special racks on the back of the truck, bookshelves, light fixtures, you name it.

  When the gray light faded to near darkness, they pounded in the last nail. Lana let the hammer fall from her shaky hand. Sawdust mixed with sweat covered her arms, neck, face—any exposed area. The lump on her head throbbed.

  Stepping back to survey their work, she said, “Not bad, for a bunch of amateurs.”

  “The boards are crooked,” Coco said, pointing to the higher ones that were clearly not level.

  “Adds charm, don’t you think?” Lana said to Mochi with a wink.

  “Best wall in town,” he said.

  “Half a wall,” Lana corrected him.

  Tomorrow, scrounging up nails would be top priority.

  * * *

  The geese were on the porch, after spending the day roaming the yard and resting under a small Norfolk pine. True to her word, Coco had kept Sailor from going after them with a few reminders. Sailor, they’re our friends. Now Sailor got too close to Tonic, and Gin came at the dog, flapping wings and hissing like a banshee. Sailor put her tail between her legs and backed away.

  “Looks like Sailor is more bark than bite,” Mochi said.

  Coco looked offended. “She would never bite.”

  Marie explained, “It’s a saying, Coco. It means she acts a lot tougher than she really is.”

  “Yeah, she’s a big baby.”

  With one blue eye and one brown eye, each in a black spot of fur, Sailor had a unique look. She also seemed to know exactly when they were talking about her, like right now.

  “Yes, we’re talking about you,” Lana said, rubbing the dog’s bony head.

  Sailor leaned in for more, almost knocking Lana over in the process. Lana wondered how they were going to manage to keep her fed if they stayed up here for any length of time, and the thought put a damper on her already bleak mood.

  The fire had gone out earlier. Until that wall was on, they wouldn’t be able to light it at night. The temperature plummeted again and it was too cold for a cold shower, but Lana suggested it anyway.

  “Anyone want a rinse?”
>
  “No way,” Marie said.

  Coco assured her, “I don’t think I’ll be showering while I’m here.”

  Understandable. “Tomorrow we can take a look at that outdoor shower. I have a feeling you may change your mind,” Lana said.

  They cooked up spaghetti and meatballs, which she had brought from the Wagners’ refrigerator. If someone noticed the fire from the stove, well, tough luck. They were not going to eat cold food for dinner, and that was that.

  Again, no one was much in the mood to talk, and they listened to the radio after dinner for any updates. Lana was of half a mind to put the kids to bed first, to spare them from any frightening information. But what was the point? They would find out anyway, one way or another.

  The White House has announced casualties in Hawaii are now estimated at three thousand, with fifteen hundred deaths. At least one old battleship and a destroyer have been blown up. Residents are still being ordered to stay indoors and fill up bathtubs with water. No water is safe. As of the top of the hour, fifty unidentified planes are headed toward San Francisco. People living along all coastlines are advised to be on guard for imminent invasion.

  The newsman droned on with more details of curfew and blackout and orders for rationing, and how Singapore and Hong Kong had been bombed, and the Japanese were attempting landing at Malaya. It sounded to Lana as though the Japanese army was at full throttle, ready to dominate the whole Pacific.

  “I’ve heard enough for tonight,” she finally said.

  * * *

  Another night of tossing and turning, and hearing strange noises outside—squeals, footsteps, grunts, screeches. And inside there were sniffles and sobs and whispers between the girls, and snores and ragged breaths from the other room. The only difference was that, at some point in the early-morning hours, the air grew so cold Lana could scarcely feel her toes. For what felt like hours, she lay there shivering and trying to curl up into the smallest ball possible. She was tempted to call Sailor over for warmth, but she didn’t want to wake Coco and Marie.