“Drainage and bandaging would be best. But we’ll see how she takes to me.”
Lana was impressed. No wonder Jack had liked him. “You could do that?”
He shrugged. “When you’re out in the wild for weeks on end, you get real good at taking care of your horses. They break down, you’re stranded. I could do it with the right equipment.”
A step closer. ‘Ohelo raised her head and sniffed the air. Her nose went to Grant’s jeans pocket and she began to nibble with her big square teeth.
“She likes you!” Lana said, laughing.
He pulled out a purple carrot and handed it to the horse, grinning. “She wants me for my carrot.”
Lana was again at a loss for words. She watched as flecks of carrot fell out of the horse’s mouth. She didn’t dare look at Grant. At least they had made some progress. “If you could help this horse, you’d have a fan for life in Coco. She loves animals more than the average person does.”
“Something we have in common.”
They decided to continue on to look for any other horses but after about fifteen minutes turned around. Lana didn’t want to leave the girls alone too much longer and figured Benji might be there by now. Grant didn’t want to push it with ‘Ohelo, so they let her be, though he reckoned she might show up in the fenced pasture again on her own, looking for friends.
When they got back, Coco was sitting in a tree and Marie and Benji were bent over digging. Benji stood up and waved. Lana waved back but Grant didn’t.
“What about your human fence?” Lana said as she came to a halt and jumped off.
“We got bored. And then Benji came and we figured we’d start on holes for the fence post,” Marie said.
Five seconds later Coco was by her side. “Did you find ‘Ohelo?”
Grant stayed on Boss, his face unreadable. He seemed to be off in his own world. Lana told her about their encounter with the horse. “Thanks to you, she’s going to get treated.”
“If she’ll let us,” Grant said.
Coco kissed Lady delicately on the nose.
“Grant, this is Benji,” Lana said.
Benji walked over, shovel in hand. His face was red and lined with sweat and dirt. “Pleased to meet you, sir. We’ve been spacing them as even as possible, but in some places the lava’s made it hard,” he said.
It was as many words as Lana had heard him utter at one time.
Grant did not greet him but said flatly, “It happens.”
She saw the hurt in Benji’s face. “Thank you for getting started. Hole digging is one of my least favorite things, and I’m sure Major Bailey would rather use his talents elsewhere,” she gushed.
In her mind, there were two kinds of people: decent, or downright rude and unjust. And in this moment, she felt like Grant was about to reveal his true character.
“I don’t mind getting my hands dirty, for a good cause,” Grant said.
He was sidestepping the issue, and Lana felt herself growing angry. “Down here, we all help out—family, friends, neighbors—so if you have a problem with that, you can head on back to camp. In fact I think I need some water. You can see yourself out.”
He looked as though he’d been slapped in the face. The kids were all staring at her, eyes wide. All she could think of was getting Grant away from there. She hopped back onto Lady, kicked hard, and took off in a cloud of grass and cinder. The sound of hoofbeats and the wind on her face tasted of freedom, and she had half a mind to keep on going, past the house, past 29 Mile and back to Hilo, where this whole nightmare began.
A ways before she reached the driveway, Grant and Boss caught up to her.
“Lana, stop,” he yelled.
She kicked on Lady again, but Grant was next to her and he grabbed her reins, easing Lady back. “What has gotten into you?” he said when the two horses had slowed to a trot.
She spun to face him. “You, that’s what. Your rudeness back there was a disgrace. You don’t even know that boy and yet you’ve already judged him as an enemy. I could hear it in your tone.”
“That’s not—”
“What you are doing is cruel and unfair. Can’t you see that? You probably don’t have any Japanese people in Wyoming, and since you’re fresh off the boat, I wouldn’t expect you to understand. But the majority of the people you are suspicious of and locking up are just plain folks doing their best at living. They are part of us.”
He pulled up the reins so they were at a stop. “Look, I’m sorry if it came across that way. I was just a little shocked to see he was Japanese. You have to see that everything being done right now is to protect our country, our people.”
She was fuming. “We don’t need protection from people like Benji, he is our people. We need protection from the likes of you. He’s a kid, for crying out loud. And he was born on this island, which is more than you can say.”
“I have nothing against him, I swear it. That there was a knee-jerk reaction. You know, I lost a few close buddies at Pearl Harbor, and I would gladly kill any of those bastards responsible. I’m not gonna lie. But with the locals, I’m learning to recognize the difference,” he said.
“You’d better learn fast,” she said.
The wind had kicked up several notches from earlier gusts, and branches waved around wildly. An old woman in Chinatown had once told her that the wind brings in ten thousand evils, and it sure felt that way. Their lovely morning had taken a horrible nosedive. It was hard to think straight with her hair in her mouth and her skirt billowing around her.
He continued. “All I ask is you put yourself in my shoes. Lana, they ambushed us while we were sleeping. We can’t be careful enough.”
“There’s a fine line between careful and paranoid. And in my opinion, it’s been crossed. They does not mean all of them,” she said, sliding down Lady and starting off on the trail.
“I know that,” he said.
“Well, then, act like it, and if you wouldn’t mind, please see yourself out,” she said, hurrying toward the house and not looking back.
The tall grass pulled at her skirt, nearly tripping her on several occasions. The air was stirred up the same way she was, with fits and outbursts and a cool bite. She took the steps two at a time. Once inside, she slammed the door behind her, leaning back against it, chest heaving. Mochi was sitting by the fireplace, eyeing her with concern.
“Well, that went well,” she said, wiping her hands on her skirt and smoothing her hair back.
His brows were pinched. “What happened?”
“Don’t worry, the kids are okay. It’s Major Bailey. He and I got into a terrible disagreement and I don’t want to be around him anymore.”
Windows rattled, which was rare here at Volcano.
“But you hardly know the man.”
Lana didn’t want to offend Mochi but figured he would want to hear the story. “When he saw Benji, his whole demeanor changed. Like he could barely stand the idea of all of us working together.”
“Did he say something?”
“It was more of what he didn’t say. He’s been so warm and charming with me and the girls, but he could hardly look at Benji,” she said, sitting across from Mochi. “Benji is quiet, and I thought maybe Grant could draw him out, get him talking. Boy, was I wrong.” The heat from the fire felt welcoming against her chilled limbs.
“So why are you here and they there?” he asked.
“I gave him a piece of my mind, and then I took off,” she said sheepishly. “I may have been a little harsh, but he deserved it.”
Mochi reached out and placed his palms in hers. They were cold as snow. “People not raised here won’t understand. Maybe you need to teach him. Matching anger with hatred never helped anyone. And why do you care so much what he thinks?”
His words stung. But Mochi was usually right. Her mind went to that first day in
Kano Store. While his sidekick had been a jerk, Grant had remained professional. He’d been cool, but not outright disrespectful. Maybe he was just doing his job. Don’t make this harder than it already is, he’d said.
“Too late now. I’m sure he won’t have anything to do with me after this, which is perfectly fine,” she said.
Letting another man into her life was about the stupidest thing she could do, so it was better this way.
“Everyone’s walking on eggshells. If he’s a decent man, he’ll understand.”
“He seems decent in every other way. That’s why I agreed for him to come down here.”
Mochi slurped his tea. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Which question?”
“Why you care what he thinks.”
Grant was a conundrum. Call it some peculiar form of chemistry, but it felt as though a spell had been cast. The horses running on his arm, the bow in his legs, and how he smelled of cinnamon and longing.
“I honestly have no idea.”
“But you do.”
She nodded slowly, meeting his eyes. “More than I should.”
THE ROOM
That night while Lana and the girls were preparing dinner, Coco discovered a curious thing. Lana had pulled out the envelope with her childhood drawing of the horse to show Coco, and the plans for the house were lying on the counter. Lana was washing the rice, and Marie was chopping ginger and sweet potato for the stew.
“The horse looks like Sailor with all its spots. Do you think it’s still up here?” Coco said.
“That was a long time ago. I doubt it.”
Coco then turned her attention to the plans. “How do you get to this room?”
“Which room?”
“The one under the kitchen.”
Marie stopped. “There’s a room under the kitchen?”
They all crowded around the plans. On the elevation drawing, it showed a small room. There were even stairs leading down from the kitchen. When Lana had first seen the plans, she had only glanced at them, more concerned about the directions and the fact that a house existed at all.
“But there’s no stairs here,” Marie said.
This was typical Jack. Hidden compartments and mysterious rooms were the kind of things he lived for. “If he was building this as a hideout, this would make perfect sense. There’s got to be a door somewhere.”
Coco immediately began nosing around the kitchen, opening cabinets and examining the floor for any sign of a door.
“That’s strange. He must have changed his mind,” Marie said.
“I bet it’s here somewhere. We just need to look harder. Maybe Benji can help us. But let’s eat first,” Lana suggested.
Lana was famished. All that riding and then an afternoon spent clearing several large patches of earth for planting had stirred up an appetite. Or maybe it was the ruminating over how she’d handled herself with Grant. A breakdown and analysis of each word spoken.
With nightfall the winds had turned from the south and the air was visibly warmer. Balmy, after the biting cold of the past few days. The stew was simple and hearty, but Coco picked at it as though it were full of bugs. She held up a chunk of sweet potato with her fork, which had turned gray in the cooking.
“What’s this?”
“Sweet potato.”
She dropped it. “Yuck.”
Marie kicked her under the table.
“You can’t live on peanut butter. And with our food supply cut off, we need to get used to eating things we can grow here,” Lana said.
Coco looked to be considering what that meant. “Are there peanuts in Hawaii?”
“No peanuts. No wheat for flour, which means our bread is limited to what we can bring in. No a lot of things. So you’re going to have to expand your eating horizons, young lady.”
“What about Christmas? Will it be dangerous for Santa to come?” Coco asked.
Christmas. Just hearing the word made her heart hurt. It was less than two weeks away, and it had not crossed her mind even once. War did not care about Christmas.
“I hadn’t thought of that. I’m sure he travels far higher than any airplanes, and he’s got the reindeer to lead him safely,” Lana said, looking to Mochi for help.
“But we wouldn’t want him to lead the Japanese to us,” Coco said.
Mochi spoke softly. “Santa can become invisible when he needs to. He’s been in and out of wars before and in far more dangerous situations, but he always shows up. You can count on that.”
Lana saw Benji and Marie smirking at each other, obviously old enough to know the truth about Santa Claus. But Coco seemed genuinely concerned.
“We finally have a chimney for him to come down,” Coco said.
Lana smiled. “We’ll just have to make sure to put out the fire on Christmas Eve so he doesn’t burn his okole.”
“And keep Sailor in bed with you so she doesn’t scare off the reindeer,” Benji added with a hint of sarcasm that flew right over Coco’s head.
“Our parents will be here by then, won’t they?” she asked.
“I hope so, sweetie.”
Coco blinked rapidly, bravely fighting back tears. “I’m going to make a list for Santa, and that’s going to be at the top of it.”
“Let’s do that. Tomorrow we’ll start getting ready for Christmas. We can find a tree and make our own ornaments and maybe even make some cookies for Santa,” Lana said, grateful for another distraction and wondering how on earth they would manage Christmas this year. No husband, no parents, no Christmas cheer.
It would take a miracle.
* * *
After dinner they all gathered in the kitchen. Coco was still hungry so Lana let her open a can of mandarin oranges. She had been extra quiet since the topic of Christmas had come up. The house plans were laid out and Mochi and Benji took a look.
“Jack always was a smart buggah,” Mochi said.
“But there’s no way in,” Marie said.
Mochi waved his finger. “Guaranteed, there is.”
“It looks like the stairs come up somewhere behind the pantry. What’s on the other side of this wall?” Benji asked.
“I think it’s the bathroom,” Lana said.
They examined the pantry walls and floor, which were well crafted, without any visible cracks or crevices that didn’t belong. No extra notches or handles or buttons. Lana and Marie went into the bathroom to see if they could find evidence of any hidden doors. But no one found anything.
“In theory, it was a good idea. But it looks like he never built it. Maybe he ran out of time,” Lana said.
Mochi disagreed. “Doubt it. We just haven’t looked hard enough.”
“Well, I’m tired. We can look more tomorrow,” Lana said.
Coco spoke for the first time since dinner. “Tomorrow something’s going to happen.”
A chill ran up the back of Lana’s legs. “What kind of something?”
“With Mama and Daddy.”
“Can you tell us what you mean?” Lana asked.
Coco shook her head.
Lana felt for her. Knowing things like Coco did seemed a burden, and yet less so up here. Up here, it felt almost natural.
* * *
In the morning Lana woke to light snoring impossibly close to her head. She opened her eyes and not two feet away was Sailor, black nose twitching. Sleeping on a mattress on the floor made her an easy target. But the snoring had a lulling effect, and Sailor added warmth to the bed. Lana reached out and stroked her. Sailor opened one sleepy eye.
“You’re a real sneak, you know that?”
Sailor blew out like a horse, shut her eye and kept right on snoring. The dog was an accomplished sleeper, and Lana wished her own slumbers could be so serene. Instead there were nightmares of Japanese soldiers in th
e rain forest and Zeros strafing the pasture, or she’d wake up and her mind immediately took off running to every worst possible scenario imaginable. Lana slipped out from under the covers and went to the kitchen to start the hot water. Then she wrote up a list for a Volcano Christmas. Less than two weeks to go. Before everyone was up, she switched on the radio.
“US freighter Lahaina shelled by a Japanese submarine eight hundred miles northeast of Honolulu. With a crew of thirty-four, there are thought to be no survivors. Nazi Germany and Italy have declared war against the United States, and the entire West Coast is now a theater of war.”
Nothing but bad news. What had she expected? Yet with the ocean still crawling with Japanese submarines, each day that went by without another attack was a good day in her mind.
With hot coffee in hand, she went outside and made her way around back to check the hives. The morning buzzed with a smattering of bees. With the sun just coming over the treetops, the whole yard was draped in a honey-colored light. Gin and Tonic spotted her and waddled over.
“Did my father mention any secret room to you two? Oh, I wish you could talk,” she said.
The rock foundation was solid all around the base of the house, with no signs of any room. The only difference was in terrain. A narrow patch of lava went off from the corner of the house where a room might be, making her wonder if he’d been able to dig down through all that rock. Usually, once Jack had his mind set on something, he never gave up.
She remembered the summer her father decided they were going to walk into Waimanu Valley. Lana was fourteen. By all accounts it was a rigorous all-day affair that smart people did on mules. You had to park at the top of Waipi‘o Valley, walk down the nearly vertical road carved out of sheer cliff, cross a wide and swift-flowing river and long beach, then switchback up the other side. When they reached the top, Lana was ready to curl up under an ironwood tree. She could hardly breathe and her thighs felt like wooden logs.
Jack hadn’t even seemed winded. He stood at the edge, looking out to sea lost in thought. His wiry frame leaned up against the tree as though he were part of it. At that moment Lana realized Jack was driven by some unknown force to unlock every minute detail of the world, to understand nature in all its complexities.
Red Sky Over Hawaii Page 16
