Red Sky Over Hawaii Page 14

  Coco returned from wherever she’d gone off to in her mind. “I’m fine.”

  Lana faced the window, but her left cheek buzzed and her neck felt a strong urge to turn toward the table with the men. Not looking was taking so much effort that she finally relented. When she glanced over, her eyes found Major Bailey straightaway. The thick brown hair with its slight wave, strong chin, big hands. Even the sight of his profile made her slightly light-headed. There were four other men at the table, all sitting behind a curtain of cigarette smoke. They still had food on their plates and they looked deep in conversation. Good. Maybe the meeting would drag on so Lana and the girls could slip out before the men were done.

  Coco excused herself to use the restroom, and Lana explained to Marie about Mauna Loa, which was spectacularly clear from where they were sitting, and how it was a different volcano from Kīlauea. People claimed that Mauna Loa—Hawaiian for “long mountain”—was the largest volcano on earth. Sitting there, feeling very small in its shadow, one could see why.

  “Both are active, but Kīlauea is a lot easier to get to. You’d have to hike up thirteen thousand feet where the air is thin and there’s nothing but jagged lava for miles.”

  “You’ve been?”

  “Nope. My father has, though. He said it was the longest night of his life. Numb from cold and sick from altitude, he had to nearly crawl back down in the morning.”

  “It sounds horrendous. Why would anyone want to go up there?” Marie asked.

  “Human nature, I suppose. Men love a challenge.”

  Lana looked over at Major Bailey again. Now he turned in time to catch her watching him. He smiled and tipped his glass. Several hundred moths took flight in her chest. She smiled back, and before she knew it, her hand was up and waving like an eager schoolgirl.

  Marie followed her gaze. “Who is that?”

  “No one.”

  “He doesn’t look like no one,” Marie said with her lips curled up.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your face is bright red, for one. And the way he smiled at you? You must know him.”

  Lana took several gulps of water, spilling some down the front of her dress. “Hardly. I met him the other day when I fell off the bike. He gave me a ride. Say, where’s Coco?”

  “With her, there’s no telling.”

  Lana stood. “I’m going to check.”

  Just outside the door and to the left was a bamboo hostess stand. Lana passed by and then did a double take. There was Coco, standing behind the stand with a phone to her ear. Her back was to Lana.

  “I just want to talk to my parents,” she was saying.

  Lana ran over, grabbed the phone and slammed it down. “What are you doing?” she cried.

  Coco turned beet red and fought back tears. “I was calling my mama and papa.”

  “I told you we would call them after lunch. Together. Who was that?” Lana said.

  “Mr. London.”

  She should have seen this coming. “Did you tell him where we were?”

  “He said he could take us to them.”

  She knelt down and grabbed Coco by the shoulders, looking into her watery eyes. “What did you tell him, sweetie? I need to know.”

  “Nothing. I just said I want to talk to them.”

  Marie came running around the corner. “What is it?”

  “She called home and was talking to Mr. London.”

  Coco pleaded, wringing her little hands. “But he said he can take us to them. He knows important people.”

  Mr. London was the kind of man who could seamlessly lie to a child. “You let me do the calling, and if I feel like he’s telling the truth, we will go right away to see your parents.”

  “Why would he lie?”

  So he can have two beautiful young girls under his thumb?

  “Who knows, but he could get us all in trouble, and even worse, separated. I don’t trust him.”

  Marie stood beside Lana with her arms folded. “Neither do I.”

  Just then a figure in khakis walked out the door. Lana hardly noticed, until he spoke. “Do you ladies need some help here?”

  Lana pulled Coco in to her side. “Oh, hello, Major. We were just borrowing the telephone, since we don’t have one at the house.”

  “These your girls?”

  “They are. We took them in when their parents died.” She squeezed Coco’s shoulder when she spoke the word died.

  “Sorry to hear that, but I imagine they’re lucky to have you,” he said.

  He stuck out his hand to Coco. She stared at it for a moment and then reached out and shook, her tiny hand pale against his olive skin. “A pleasure to meet you. I’m Major Bailey, but you can call me Grant.”

  “Are you in the war?” she asked him.

  “You could say that. I’m part of the United States Army, which makes me active duty,” he said.

  “Do you know important things?”

  Once again, Lana worried where this was headed and was about to interrupt, when Marie stepped in. “Hello, I’m Marie. My little sis here would ask you questions all day if she could. I’m sure you have more important business to attend to.”

  Grant grinned. “Trust me, seeing the three of you gals is a burst of sunshine. And to answer your question, Coco, I do know a thing or two. What did you want to know?”

  Lana held her breath. No matter how many times she had coached the girls about what to say and what not to say, she got the feeling that Coco would give voice to whatever came to her at the moment. But Coco was no longer looking at Grant’s face. Instead her eyes were focused on his smooth inner forearm, which Lana noticed for the first time was covered in a finely drawn tattoo.

  “I want to know about the horses on your arm,” Coco said.

  He held his arm out. Lana was not a fan of tattoos, but the sketch of three horses galloping in a line was more like artwork on skin. So simple, and yet the horses seemed to be moving across his arm. Coco reached out and touched the first horse.

  “In my other life, I was a cowboy in Wyoming. Horses were my thing, so when I joined the army, I had these beauties inked onto my arm,” he said, sounding like a proud father.

  Coco took her hand away, and without thinking, Lana touched the first horse and traced her fingers across the others. Grant shivered. Lana yanked her hand away in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. It’s just so beautiful,” she said.

  Grant held her gaze for a second too long. “Sorry for what?”

  She looked away and didn’t answer, heart galloping wildly.

  Coco seemed wound up, too, speaking so fast her words overlapped. “I found a horse yesterday down by our house, actually a few horses, but one that I really like. Her name is ‘Ohelo and she told me she wants to be friends.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll bet she does. Horses make great friends. And you know what?” he said.

  “What?”

  “Once you earn their trust, they never forget you.”

  “Like people,” Coco said.

  “Tell me, what does this ‘Ohelo look like?”

  Coco pointed. “Just like that last horse on your arm. She’s small and black and delicate, with an extra-long tail. And she has a sore knee.”

  Grant scratched his chin. “I think I know that horse. We were calling her Minnie, on account of her being so small. Spooks easily and afraid of people. How do you know her knee hurts?”

  “I just do.”

  “Fair enough. Did she let you get near her?”

  “Kind of.”

  “Then you must be pretty special.”

  Coco shrugged. Lana was about to usher the girls away when Coco said, “Can you come teach us how to be cowboys?”

  Marie shot Lana a worried look. Explaining why they had a Japanese man and his son living with them would be tricky,
at best.

  “Major Bailey is busy bolstering up our defenses in case of an invasion, so let’s let him do his job. Now is not the time to play cowboy,” Lana said.

  Grant said, “Actually, I would love to.”

  “I appreciate your kindness, sir, but we have other things to focus on.”

  “Like what?” Coco whined.

  Just this morning her mind had been stuffed full of worries, like how to keep Mochi alive and how to reach the Wagners and how soon another attack might come. But standing here now, she couldn’t come up with one darned thing to say.

  Thankfully the two younger soldiers walked out of the dining hall and stopped for introductions. They had freshly clipped hair, pressed uniforms and a bit of swagger in their steps. Maybe Grant would drop the cowboy idea and leave with them. Both guys were tripping over each other to shake hands with Marie, who was probably the only blonde this side of Hilo. After a few minutes of chitchat, the soldiers moved on.

  Grant stayed put. “What you said earlier, about me being busy, that’s true. But when I start something, I like to see it through. Truth be told, we could actually use the horses for patrol along the pali. I could get them rounded up and check on ‘Ohelo if she’ll let me. The last stretch of fencing needs to be put up, too.”

  Coco jumped up and down. “I could be your helper.”

  “No,” Lana said, more forcefully than she meant to.

  Grant persisted. “I swear I won’t get in your way at all.”

  “Major—”

  He held up his hand. “Look, I know you don’t want to impose on me, but think of it as helping in the war effort and doing me a favor, honest to goodness.” He put his hand on his chest. “I miss the ranch something fierce. This way I can sneak away and get my cowboy fix. Not to mention making a pretty little girl’s day.”

  Coco beamed up at him. How could Lana say no to that? There were no rules that said she had to invite Major Bailey into the house, were there? Maybe Mochi could stay indoors and they could concoct a story about Benji, say he lived nearby and was helping out. It was foolish and she knew she ought to put her foot down and keep him at a safe distance. But.

  “I can see you’re used to getting your way,” she said, feeling more than a little flustered.

  “No comment,” he said with a wink.

  “Can you come tomorrow?” Coco asked.

  “Not tomorrow, but Saturday. Will that work?”

  This was a losing proposition. “Fine. We’ll see you at 9:00 a.m. sharp,” Lana said.

  That gave her two days to figure out how to steel herself against his charms. Surely he had someone waiting at home. Though he wore no ring. Not that she meant to be nosy, but it would have been impossible not to notice, especially when their hands had been mashed together. Truth be told, he had been entering her thoughts more than she liked.

  “Saturday it is,” he said with a huge grin.

  Lunch went on without a hitch. Coco stuffed herself nearly sick with baked macaroni and cheese, Sailor was escorted outside to gnaw on a cow knuckle bone, and Uncle Theo came back to sit with them for the remainder of the meal. When it was time for goodbyes, he whispered in Lana’s ear, “Major Bailey is good stock. Your father admired him.”

  THE ROUNDUP

  Listening to the staticky voices on the radio, it was hard to tell what was rumor and what was real. Jeb Hartman in all seriousness reported that, on the morning of the attack, Japanese agents in Hawaii had infiltrated the bases on ‘O‘ahu and slit the throats of American servicemen. People were calling in at all hours reporting submarines spotted off the coast and mysterious lights offshore. The consensus seemed to be when, not if, the enemy bombers or ships full of troops would strike again. Jeb reminded listeners that Germany and Japan were in cahoots, and an East Coast, West Coast, Hawaii siege was imminent.

  Lana shut down the radio after that, certain the whole house would be having a round of nightmares tonight. The need to know was at great odds with not wanting to hear anything about the war. Would it be possible to exist up here in their own bubble for much longer?

  Once the kids were asleep, Lana told Mochi, “None of this feels real to me yet. I find it hard to fathom Japanese troops actually coming ashore and murdering or torturing us, and yet all the news about China and how brutal they were in Manchuria gives me chills.”

  Mochi poked at the fire with a stick, bursting cinders. “The only thing real is the two of us sitting here at this table. The flames, the crickets singing outside. Can you hear them?”

  Lana listened. The fire hissed and spat, and beyond that, the steady chirping of crickets singing into the night. “That doesn’t change the fact that there is a war going on.”

  “That is true. But worrying about what might happen is futile. It won’t prevent the inevitable,” he answered.

  Men always said that kind of thing, and it annoyed her no end. Worries were not faucets and could not be turned off and on as you pleased.

  “Is this part of your Shinto religion?” she asked.

  “Shinto is more a way to exist than a religion. One in which we are part of the natural world, not separate from it.”

  In the firelight, big shadows formed under his cheekbones. Since they arrived, he looked thinner, and yet that quiet strength he always had still emanated from him. Maybe he was on to something.

  “I get a sense of that every now and then,” Lana said.

  “Pay more attention.”

  “To what?”

  “The moment.”

  Weariness hit, along with the impossibility of what he was saying. Right now the only things she could pay attention to were the girls and Mochi and Benji, and keeping them all safe and fed. Sailor and the geese, too, to be fair. A knot formed in her stomach. Her mind was also annoyingly distracted by thoughts of Grant and the smooth lines of his muscular forearm.

  “I should warn you that Major Bailey from the military camp is coming here on Saturday morning. He’s a cowboy, and Coco persuaded him to come help with the horses.”

  “He’s the one who fixed up the bike?” Mochi asked.

  “Yep.”

  “I will keep out of sight.”

  Was she imagining it, or was there a touch of a smile in his eyes?

  * * *

  They spent Friday searching for berries and exploring the outlying terrain near the house. And after that Lana took them out back to the hives and explained the basics of beekeeping and how to harvest honey. The air around them vibrated as she spoke. It had been some time since her father had checked on the bees, and honey dripped from the boxes.

  “Look at the honey from this one. It’s reddish,” Coco pointed out.

  Jack used to say that red honey was as rare as wild snipe, and it took Lana years to figure out that snipes were not real. “There’s an old wives’ tale that during volcano season the honey glows red as the lava. My father believed it was from the bees drinking too much ‘o¯helo berry nectar, and that red honey carries quadruple the healing properties,” she said.

  “When is volcano season?” Coco asked.

  “It’s when the volcano is erupting,” Lana said.

  “But it’s not erupting right now.”

  Marie rolled her eyes. “She said it was an old wives’ tale—that means it’s not true.”

  Lana gently corrected her. “There’s usually some degree of truth to an old wives’ tale.”

  Coco asked a hundred and one questions about dealing with the bees, though Marie looked ready to bolt.

  “The main thing to remember is that bees pick up your energy. So you need to be relaxed and think loving thoughts when around them,” Lana said.

  With these two it would either be a disaster or a miracle. She could imagine Coco talking to the bees the way she talked to all the animals, and lulling them into complacency.

  “
We’ll need to find more jars and containers to collect it in, so don’t throw anything away,” Lana instructed them.

  Later Coco insisted that Lana try her parents again. They all drove down to Kano Store, but this time there was no answer. They went to a yard near the village where Lana had remembered an apple tree, but there were a couple of loose, scroungy dogs guarding their territory.

  No one said it outright, but they were all looking forward to Saturday morning. When it dawned, Lana was sure that if the temperature dipped any lower, it would snow. She bundled up in half of the clothing she owned here and went outside to sit with the sleeping geese. Their heads were tucked away in their feathers in a way that made Lana wish she could do the same. Gin moved enough so that he could open his eye and see her, but Tonic didn’t budge.

  Early morning had always been her favorite time. Jack’s, too. He used to tell her that dawn was enchanted. As always, he tried to explain it in scientific terms: The sun’s energy is just beginning to spread through the atmosphere, and it fills us with vital particles. Everything is more conductive. As a child, all Lana knew was that in the mornings the world felt ripe with possibility.

  If morning was enchanted, night was surely haunted. Those were the hours of magnified darkness and bad thoughts. Last night there had been more sobbing from Coco. Poor thing. Lana felt it, too. She had woken in a sweat, heart racing. Nothing she told herself could calm her down, and she lay awake for hours ruminating about every fear possible.

  As the sun came up, the sky turned a violet hue and birds wove invisible pathways through the trees. She remembered being so frustrated as a girl, trying to glimpse one for more than a second. Jack used to joke that they were faster than the speed of light.

  A few minutes later Coco came marching up the drive, a blanket wrapped around her whole body. Sailor was by her side.

  “What on earth are you doing out here so early?” Lana asked her when she reached the top step.

  “Seeing if I could find my parents.”

  Lana sat stunned for a few seconds, unsure of how to respond. “Um, well, how did it go?”

  “They are still alive,” Coco said with a definitive nod.