9
Shark Mother
Pua-O-Ke-Kai
Flower of the sea; descendant of the sea.
When the bus pulled over at Lauele Harbor, I grabbed my backpack and hurried down the steps.
“Thanks for the ride,” Maka called.
“No problem,” said Mr. Kiho. “So am I picking you both up here tomorrow?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
Maka met my gaze, but I couldn’t tell what she was thinking.
“Probably not.”
“Okay. See you when I see you.”
Mr. Kiho shut the door and drove away.
Maka kicked off her sandals and bent down to pick them up.
“I hate these things,” she said, tugging at her shirt.
“Itchy,” I said.
“You have no idea.” She paused, tilting her head at me. “Well, maybe you do. Come. The boat’s this way.”
Maka punched in the gate code and walked out along the gangway to the farthest boat in the lineup.
The
