3
Mano Meal
Keiki hoʻokama
A child one loves and considers family, but usually does not raise; a godchild.
Thirteen years ago, Kahana Kaulupali walked toward the ocean, his slippahs flip, flip, flipping sand behind him. ‘Ilima bounded ahead, nosing around gray driftwood and seaweed as she picked her way to the water.
“Ho, ‘Ilima, careful where you put your nose, yeah? Better watch out for jellyfish! I bet those buggers washed up on the beach last night.”
‘Ilima looked back and whined.
“Nah, Sister, don’t worry. I have meat tenderizer.” Kahana patted his bag. “Gets rid of the sting in nothing flat.”
‘Ilima chuffed and went back to work.
Overhead, a seabird called as it headed out to sea. The sun was over the mountains, the pale shell colors of early dawn giving way to a brilliant b
