ʻAina Ahiahi

Lei stalked into Kaipo’s room as soon as she and Tūtū got home, but he wasn’t there. She pivoted and went back to the kitchen just as Kaipo came through the screen door.

“Where have you been?” Her eyes scanned him, looking for any new injuries or signs of pain.

“Out,” Kaipo responded as if that level of vagueness would somehow appease her. No chance.

“Right. Sure. Out. Cool. Were you out just to get some fresh air? Maybe listening to the birds or staring at the sea. Or…maybe…you were out because your necklace is yelling at you!”

She crossed her arms, trying to keep it together as she studied him. His left eye’s tiny twinge was his only tell. “You know what I’m talking about! Kaipo, why didn’t you tell me?”

He avoided the question and her glare. Instead, he washed his hands and got the rice out before Tūtū shooed him away.

“Get!” Tūtū insisted. “Go lie down. Still gotta rest. No think I don’t see da way you favoring your right arm.”

Lei hovered right behind him, breathing down his neck as Kaipo raised his hands in surrender and left the kitchen.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about,” Lei said, practically tripping over his feet.

“Lei, get back here and chop da green onions,” Tūtū called.

Kaipo slunk away, never once making eye contact.

“Ugh, you’re saved by the cook for now,” Lei grumbled.

She rushed through the cutting, dicing, sautéing, and mixing until Tūtū was satisfied and released her back to Kaipo’s room. She entered full of gusto, but the exhausted look on his face cut her to her core. She recalibrated, sinking into the rocking chair. His toilet-paper earplugs were back in, white tufts peeking out from under his floppy hair.

Lei chewed her lip, deciding where to start. “I took Ili’s necklace from her today. Twice.”

Whatever Kaipo had expected her to say, it clearly wasn’t that.

“She took it off?” His voice was full of worry, eyes wide. He stopped picking at the bandage on his arm and shifted to face Lei straight on, crossing his legs on the bed. “She’s always been too impetuous. It’s going to get her into trouble. I’m not going to question Poliʻahu’s decision to let Ili graduate early…”

Lei jumped in before Kaipo could say anything that might be misconstrued as an insult to the benevolent goddess who helped her on Maunakea—she’d hate for word to get back that Kaipo was less than grateful.

“Ili only did it with a lot of begging from me. And because I said it was for you. If you haven’t noticed, she’d risk her life for you.” We all would. Lei didn’t want to get all gushy now. She needed answers. “And it wasn’t in vain. She says her pendant calls to let her know where it is. Seems like it got louder the farther away it was, which checks out with your ‘wrong island’ theory. All we should need to do is follow the voice.”

He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead but stayed quiet.

“Kaipo, I know you can hear your pendant. It’s why you’ve been so loud when you don’t have earplugs in. Why didn’t you tell me? We can find it by following you.”

“It’s not that easy. Not everything is solved by simply charging into danger.”

“Name one thing that isn’t.”

“Lei,” he sighed, putting his whole face in his hands.

She felt the adrenaline of her discovery drain out of her at the weight of that sigh. She leaned back in the rocker, pushing slowly with her toes. Sitting and thinking was bad. The prickles of guilt grew into knives digging and twisting between her shoulder blades. Kaipo already struggled to even look at her. Clearly he was just a degree or two from wanting to dump her for good. The only way to not get sucked into a bog of despair was to put one foot in front of the other and look for solutions. Losing Kaipo was not a future she was willing to accept.

So Lei was back at square one, searching every inch of land on the outer islands. She started mentally organizing a map. Maui was closest, so she could start there. Who did Tūtū know on Maui they could stay with?

Kaipo looked up, finally meeting her eyes. A rush of relief flowed through her. “You realize this is a bad idea, right?”

“Absolutely.” It didn’t matter. Even a bad idea was better than nothing.

“If I was still your ʻaumakua, there’s no way I’d let you do this.”

Lei did her best to look solemn. “Definitely not. You were a very safety-oriented ʻaumakua—all ‘no running with musubi in your mouth,’ and ‘wait twenty minutes after the shave ice to jump in.’ ”

He quirked his brow.

“What? You were. Ignore me, just tell me where the call is coming from.”

He pressed his lips together, as if doubting his decision to speak.

Lei leaned forward and took his hand gently. “Nothing is ever going to stop me searching.”

“I know.” He sounded resigned. “That’s the only reason I’m even considering telling this to you. I thought mentioning that the necklace was on another island would be enough to get you to drop it.”

“It’s not.” Lei was on the edge of her seat, so much so that the chair was on the tips of its rockers.

“I see that.” Kaipo stood from the bed, forcing Lei back in the seat. He began pacing the small strip of floor around the bed, from the rocking chair, past the door, to the closet, and back again. For a minute Lei wasn’t sure if he forgot that he was the one who was supposed to be talking.

She gave him two more laps, then opened her mouth to speak, but Kaipo held up a finger and blurted, “There is an island east of here.”

The statement made about as much sense as a snowstorm hitting Hilo. Lei knew there was nothing east of here for a long, long way. Unless Kaipo meant the newest volcano under the ocean, but she had a hunch that wasn’t what he was talking about. Had ʻIo scrambled Kaipo’s mind?

“Maybe you should sit again,” Lei suggested gently.

“Dinner!” Tūtū called.

Kaipo gave Lei a look she couldn’t interpret, then headed out of the room.

---

Over the shoyu chicken and rice, Lei watched Kaipo. He hadn’t seemed like he was making things up. But maybe this was part of the rotting process, imagining things that weren’t there.

“Tūtū, I was curious,” Lei said.

Kaipo raised his head, looking between them.

“Have you ever heard of islands to the east of here?”

“Maui stay northwest. Da archipelago over da hot spot in the plates moves dat direction, you know dat. Got a new one coming up southeast of here. Das it. Why?”

“Oh, nothing. I just heard that there was another one east of us, but maybe the person got their directions mixed up.” Lei looked pointedly at Kaipo, taking a big bite of chicken.

He put his chicken down. Grabbed his napkin. Made a big show of cleaning every finger.

“Maybe the person knows more than you, huh? Maybe the person is good at directions but didn’t have time to explain.” He raised his voice and stood. “Maybe the person is talking about an invisible island, but you never seem to listen whenever the person tries to tell you about stuff that might be just the slightest bit outside the realm of your normal, and maybe it’s tiring always having to defend their thoughts All. The. Time. I thought we were beyond that. Ever think of that, Miss ‘It’s Not on the Map So It Doesn’t Exist’?”

He slammed his napkin down on the table so hard, his fork rattled on his plate, surprising everyone. His chest was heaving, and Lei watched as he forced himself to take a few deep, slow breaths.

Lei’s own heart raced at his outburst. All traces of her cool, collected Kaipo gone, a loud, troubled spirit in his place. It should have been reassuring knowing that he was only acting this way because he was missing the pendant, but watching his personality dissolve away in fits and spurts had Lei struggling to force down her panic.

Smoothing his napkin, he cleared his throat and sat back down. In a much quieter voice, Kaipo said, “E kala mai, Tūtū. Sorry about that, don’t know why I got so worked up.”

Tūtū’s wrinkles had wrinkles as she scrunched her face, examining Kaipo.

“It’s okay. Been a hard week.” She placed her sweet-bread-soft hand on his arm. “You get plenty going on.” Then she got up from the table. “Be right back.”

Lei and Kaipo ate in silence. Lei spooned more green beans onto her plate, needing a way to keep her mouth full so she wouldn’t have to talk. Her skin was hot and tight, but she forced herself not to retreat. Had he ever yelled at her before? That was way worse than scoldings from her parents or Tūtū. Why hadn’t she just believed him?

“Found ’um,” Tūtū said, returning with a tattered book, the cover a worn, dark brown.

She held it carefully, opening it in her lap as she sat. Lei craned her neck to see over the table but could only make out loopy script on yellowed paper. Page after page, the script flowed, broken by numbers—dates, Lei assumed—too small for her to make out. She finished her green beans and cleared the table while Tūtū scanned the pages.

After Lei was done with most of the dishes, Tūtū exclaimed, “Here!” She put the book down in the center of the cleaned table. “Kuaihelani—it’s a cloudland.”

Kaipo crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Told you.”

Lei offered an apologetic smile and craned her neck, trying to read.

“Kupuna went keep this journal and captured the moʻolelo of his kūpuna.”

“Kupuna?” Lei asked, looking to Kaipo for clarification.

“Your tūtū’s great-grandma,” he explained, trying to smile, as if remembering a long-lost friend.

Was that ancestor around here, too? Lei wondered. The kitchen suddenly felt more crowded, but nothing else happened—no lights flickering or doors knocking to signal ghosts the way folks on the continent expected. Satisfied that if their ancestors were in the room, they were content to stay quiet and listen to the story as well, Lei nodded and Tūtū continued.

“I read it a long time ago and never remembered till Kaipo talked about the invisible island. I kekahi wā, once upon a time, there was moving islands. Sometimes they floating on da sea, sometimes in da air, sometimes you could see ’um from da beach, especially at sunrise or sunset. Da kūpuna said da islands were glorious, lush, magical places, sacred to da gods, and where da Menehune live.”

“Menehune?” Lei asked.

“Da ancient ones. Da ones that left these islands when da big priest came with warriors wearing da red cloth.” Tūtū waved her hand. “But that’s one other moʻolelo for another time. Da ancient ones went flee in their canoes and found safety on this island. We only hear about dem coming back here in da middle of da night when somebody needs help building something. Dey can finish walls and fishponds, stuff li’ dat, overnight. But try look here, it says one person went to one invisible island, seen it with his own eyes, and made it back to tell my kupuna’s kūpuna.”

Tūtū closed the book carefully and crossed her arms. That was all the information she was going to share. Lei’s insides felt as fluttery as Ilikea’s wings when she was nervous. She side-eyed Kaipo. He was back to picking at the bandage on his arm.

“Okay, this is good news, right? We sorta have confirmation that there is indeed an island to the east…at least sometimes…which is where Kaipo’s pendant seems to be calling from.” Lei clapped her hands together once as if that settled it. “Great.”

She nodded her head, feeling good about having a direction and path. There was just one problem.

“So…how do we get to an invisible island?”