One Boy, No Water

2. Talking Story

2

Talking Story

Howzit

Hello; good to see you.

“Eh, Z-boy, howzit?” Uncle Kahana said. He and ‘Ilima, his yellow poi dog, were coming back from the ocean, walking around the naupaka kahakai bushes that separated the beach from the road. Long before I saw them, I smelled the fresh fish in his net bag as it dripped saltwater and blood into the dust by the roadside. I shuddered and tried not to watch each drop as it grew fat and fell.

“Howzit, Uncle Kahana,” I said, looking everywhere but the bag.

Uncle Kahana paused, giving me a sharp once over. “Why aren’t you wearing a shirt? Where’s your umbrella, hah? Your mom’s going to flip if she finds out you’re running around without it. Wait. Summer Fun’s not over yet. Where’s Jay?”

I shrugged. It was easier than trying to explain.

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Don’t give me that,” he said. “What happened?”

“Jay punched ‘Alika Kanahele and gave him a bloody nose. Mr. Tony, our Summer Fun leader, took my shirt to stop the bleeding.”

Uncle Kahana’s eyes narrowed even more.

‘Ilima chuffed.

“I know, girl. He’s not telling the whole story, and the parts that’re missing are the most important parts.” He tilted his head to the side. “Tell me, Z-boy. I can’t help if I don’t know.”

You also can’t hurt if you stay out of it.

I sighed.

“My house,” Uncle Kahana said. “We’ll talk story there.”

Uncle Kahana and ‘Ilima lived in an apartment above Hari’s, a*****e bigger than an ordinary neighborhood convenience store, but not as big as a supermarket. Hari’s carried a little bit of everything, from octopus lures and crack seed to ‘ukulele strings, motor oil, and macadamia nut candies for tourists. It didn’t make sense that Uncle Kahana lived there and got everything at Hari’s for free. When I asked, Mom said Hari and Uncle Kahana had been in the war together and to stop being so niele.

Grown-ups. Everything’s a mystery.

We walked around Hari’s store to the lanai, a covered porch area with a sink, hose bib, table, and folding chairs. He tossed me a clean shirt from the clothesline. “Put this on.”

“Thanks.” It was big, but much better than nothing. As much as I hated wearing jackets and carrying an umbrella, I hated people staring at my birthmark even more.

At least Uncle Kahana cares.

Uncle Kahana placed his net bag with the fish in the sink and motioned to the stairs attached to the side of the building. “Go on up. It’s not locked. ‘Ilima and I gotta clean up a little first.”

He waited until I was halfway up the stairs before turning on the hose.

‘Ilima whined.

“Come on, ‘Ilima, don’t be a baby,” Uncle Kahana said.

She whined louder.

“No, the water’s not that cold. Look, I’ll go first.”

‘Ilima barked.

“What’re you talking about? Of course you need to rinse off! I don’t want hairy salt all over the place.”

Bark, bark, bark!

“So stay outside in the sun for a while. Dry off.”

Whine. Chuff.

“Codeesh, ‘Ilima! Stop acting like a diva-lani! I’m not going to heat the water for you! Come on! Zader’s waiting!”

At the top of the stairs, I kicked off my slippahs and entered the apartment. The main area was a large room split into a living room and kitchen-dining space. Uncle Kahana’s furniture was old, but comfortable.

To the left of the entry was the living room with a brown, fake leather couch piled high with Hawaiian print pillows and a sliding glass door leading to an ocean view lanai balcony. Standing there, I realized the lanai formed the roof of the front entrance to the store. To the right was a dining table and chairs nestled in front of a bachelor’s bare bones kitchen and breakfast counter. Between the kitchen and living room was a short hallway that led to Uncle Kahana’s bedroom, bath, and a large storage closet. Directly in front of the entry and almost blocking the way was ‘Ilima’s pillow, the center and heart of the home.

“You’re fine,” Uncle Kahana said as he climbed the steps. “You can stay outside and guard the slippahs. Nobody wants a wet dog in the house.”

I stepped away from the entry to make room for Uncle Kahana. He walked through the door wiping his arms on an old hammajang towel. Flicking his slippahs off, he turned back towards the door.

‘Ilima slunk up the stairs, tail and ears dripping and drooping. She plopped down in the sun outside the front door, eyeing her pillow in the house longingly.

“I said when you’re dry.”

‘Ilima sighed a huge doggy sigh.

“Look, I’ll leave the door open so you can still hear what’s going on.”

‘Ilima closed her eyes and sighed again.

“No act, ‘Ilima,” Uncle Kahana said. “Like you never take a bath every time we come back from the beach!”

Uncle Kahana turned to me. “Sit, sit, sit.” He flapped his hands at the couch. “You look like you could use a drink. Let me check the ice box.”

I moved some pillows to make room while Uncle Kahana rummaged through the fridge, pulling out two Diamond Head orange sodas. He popped the tops and took the time to wrap one in a paper towel and slipped it into a plastic bag before handing it to me. Unlike most people, Uncle Kahana thought about things like condensation dripping off a cold soda can. He grabbed a straw off the counter and stuck it in my drink.

“Mahalo, Uncle,” I said. The soda was cold and sweet and ‘ono in the back of my throat.

Uncle Kahana carried a dining room chair over to the couch and sat backwards with his arms resting on the chair back. He took a sip of soda, then eyed me over the can. “Spill it,” he said.

Or what?

I fiddled with the plastic bag, adjusting it tighter around the can, wiggled my ‘okole deeper into the couch, and plopped my bare feet on the coffee table. I looked out the lanai door and watched a couple of clouds head mauka where I hoped they would eventually drop their rain down the steep mountainsides and not on Lauele Town when it was time to walk home. My hand twitched at the thought, and I regretted leaving my umbrella under the monkey pod tree.

Through it all Uncle Kahana sat quietly in his chair, occasionally lifting his drink, looking like he had nothing better to do or no place he’d rather be. On the landing ‘Ilima rolled on her back and snoozed in the sunshine, legs sticking up like a dead cockroach.

I took a deep breath, opened my mouth, and it all rushed out like the big, rolling breakers at Nalupuki beach. “‘Alika Kanahele and Chad Watanabe were hassling me. No big deal. I knew Mr. Tony—our Summer Fun leader—would be out on the playground soon. I was just going to ignore them, but like always, Jay jumped to the rescue and told them to stop it. That’s when ‘Alika threw a water balloon at me.”

Uncle Kahana’s eyebrows raised and ‘Ilima sat up, but nobody said anything. He gestured, so I held out my arm and turned my shoulder toward him, lifting up the t-shirt sleeve. He rubbed his hand on his pants to make sure it was dry before reaching out to slowly trace the faintly pink skin, all that was left of the blisters and pain. Satisfied, he nodded at me to continue.

“Jay ripped my shirt over my head and that stopped the burning. I couldn’t think about anything but the pain. I never had that much water on my skin before.” I swallowed, the words choking like sand in my throat. “‘Alika was laughing, standing on a table making the sign of the cross at me with his fingers like I was a vampire.”

Warm and dry from the sun and smelling clean from her bath, ‘Ilima padded in, jumped up next to me on the couch, and rested her head in my lap. I started to pet her ears, smoothing the hair down, down, down, allowing the words to come.

“‘Alika called me a freak. Said I was possessed. Jay just snapped. He jumped ‘Alika, knocked him off the table, sat on his chest, and pounded his face. Blood everywhere. I think Jay broke ‘Alika’s nose. Mr. Tony ended the fight and used my shirt to stop the bleeding. He sent ‘Alika and Chad to the office. Even though Jay threw the punch, everybody was staring at me, so I left.”

“Drink,” Uncle Kahana said. “It’ll help.”

I slurped half the soda in one long pull on the straw, feeling the chill fall all the way to the pit of my stomach. It rumbled a bit, wanting more than sugar and fizz.

“‘Alika and Chad, they hassle you a lot when Jay’s not around.” Not a question from Uncle Kahana, but a certainty.

I nodded.

“Throw water, too?”

“No. First time. People know about my allergies, but most have never seen what happens.”

“Plenny people saw today.”

“Yeah.”

“And Jay? What about his part in all this?” Uncle Kahana leaned toward me across the back of his chair.

He was casual, too casual, and I knew there was something deeper here, hidden like wana in the reef. I mentally stepped back and thought about what actually happened. By sticking up for me, Jay had inadvertently escalated the conflict. Before he stuck his nose in my kimchee, it was only words, words I’d heard a million times before, and not just from ‘Alika and Chad. The problem was that Jay never heard those kinds of words from anybody and didn’t think I should either.

Everybody naturally liked Jay. He thought I needed him around for protection, but what I really needed was his ability to act as a buffer between me and the rest of the world. Around Jay I got invited to shambattle; without him all people saw was a freak.

I shrugged. “He’s my brother,” I said, and that said it all.

I felt Uncle Kahana relax. I wondered if I’d passed some kind of test, but for what, I couldn’t imagine.

“Uncle Kahana? Are they right? Am I a freak?”

Uncle Kahana ran his hand over his face and studied the picture of Diamond Head on his soda can. Finally, he said, “I ever tell you about the day I found you at Piko Point?”