Strangers

The leaves parted, and a man appeared. He peeled away from the darkness, as if he were part shadow himself. Lei grabbed Kaukahi’s wrist, ready for fight or flight (mostly flight, who was she kidding). Were they about to be murdered? Is that why morning would be too late? Lei narrowed her eyes and tried to look tough as she balled her fists.

“Since when is violence a solution?” Kaukahi asked. The hint of laughter in her voice had Lei glance behind her.

“She has the subtlety of a hammer,” Kaipo teased.

“Hey!” Lei protested, more surprised by the comment than hurt.

“Sorry.” He coughed to cover up a smile. “Aftereffect of being necklace-less.”

Ilikea jumped in. “We all just love our necklaces here! Being without them makes us all cranky, heh-heh.” Her voice was too loud and bright.

Lei looked back at the man, who seemed heavily invested in their nervous banter, deep smile lines framing his mouth and sprouting from his eyes. He was short, only coming up to Lei’s waist. His relaxed expression and empty hands turned her freaked-out-ness down to a level two and her curiosity up to an eleven. Lei eased out of her fighting stance, then stepped back as two other men and a woman of similar stature emerged.

“Excuse me. E kala mai,” Lei said. “Aloha?” she tried again.

The man who had stepped out first smiled. “Aloha mai kākou.” He approached and motioned for Lei to bend down. He brought his forehead to hers, and Lei closed her eyes, sharing the space and breathing, clasping his arms. After a moment he stood. “ʻO Lopaka koʻu inoa.”

His voice was as soft and rich as the furry pulu of the hāpuʻu fern. “I live here. My parents lived here. My grandparents lived here. But before that, from Oʻahu.” Here he paused.

Lei was completely stunned. These were the Menehune Tūtū had mentioned, the ancient people who could build entire walls in a single night. Or…in this case…repair walls that others might try to take down. At Lei’s silence, he gave her a nod of encouragement.

“Oh! ʻO Leilani Kamaʻehu koʻu inoa. Noho au ma Colorado, aka, no ka moku ʻo Keawe koʻu makua kāne. No New York koʻu makuahine. I’m from Colorado but my dad is from Hawaiʻi Island and my mom is from New York.” Lei translated in case she’d said it wrong in ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi. “My grandparents are from Hawaiʻi Island and New York as well. These are my…um…”

She looked around at them. Kaipo raised a brow, Kaukahi shrugged, Ilikea grinned.

“Friends. My friends. We’re just heading back. Kaukahi”—Lei jerked a thumb toward her—“needs to get going on her project.”

“E, e, e, I understand,” the man said, nodding. “Just one pilikia.”

Why was Lei afraid he’d say something like this? No way were those folks following them all over the island just to pop out and tell them, “Good luck on your project, Kaukahi. Good job getting Kaipo back, Lei. You sure are awesome for finding an invisible island and figuring this all out.” No, of course there had to be a problem. She snapped her hair band.

Lopaka continued. “We normally stay out of it, no need show ourselves and start talk. But you made it to our island. You opened the gate. We built it back up last night and hoped you’d catch the hint. Maybe you’d remember the moʻolelo, but auē poina ʻoukou. Now you must pay the price or take the time.”

Oh. That sounded really bad.

“Pay the price or take the time?” she repeated. There goes any hope of getting home soon.

“I see your friends”—the man smiled and drew out the word—“are both wearing pendants, so I’m sure you’re aware that this world is filled with more than what people sometimes realize. When you opened the gate, you made it easier for the kuewa to enter.”

Lei flinched at the mention of the rotting spirits.

“As if that wasn’t bad enough, you then went and distracted the moʻo who was tasked with protecting the pendants! I don’t know what you did to draw her attention from the pendants, but it worked. We felt the mana being pulled away as the kuewa left this island.”

Something wasn’t making sense. “But when Kaipo got his pendant back, he became himself again,” Lei said. At the man’s raised brow, she amended, “Mostly.”

Kaipo grinned.

“That’s right,” the man said. “But many of the ones that you saw here were so pilau, so rotten, that just getting their pendants back doesn’t make them feel better.” He glanced at Kaipo like he knew what her friend was going through. “It only makes them feel more powerful.”

A shiver ran through Lei as the moon sank behind a passing cloud, casting them into brief darkness.

“Those pendants were brought here for us to protect,” the man continued. “Pele and the other akua have been watching over the islands, keeping everything in balance. If families forget their way, become disconnected from their roots, and their ʻaumākua start to rot and tip toward decay, their pendants are removed, taken far from humanity, and sealed where the soon-to-be kuewa know they can’t retrieve them. The moʻo protected them for hundreds of years while the kuewa waited for the right moment. And now I’m afraid of what they might do. After being ignored for so many years, they are huhū wela loa, very angry. They are going to want people to suffer as they have suffered. And as many as possible.” He and his friends all shared identical looks of concern.

“What exactly are you saying?” Kaukahi asked.

“I’m saying that the swarm of spirits and their pendants are going to head for the biggest crowd of people to do as much damage as possible. If you don’t stop them by removing their pendants before the full moon in three nights, their powers will solidify and their presence in the world will be unescapable.”

Yeesh, that didn’t sound good.

Kaukahi made a choked noise. “Unescapable?”

The woman behind Lopaka spoke up. Her husky voice reminded Lei of her former kumu hula, chanting out their oli in hula class. “Lopaka is trying to keep things vague so he doesn’t scare you. But I think you’re old enough to understand. You know how in Hawaiʻi you feel closer to the earth? More connected?”

Lei nodded. It was impossible not to feel more in tune when running around barefoot on black sand beaches or having the smells of the rainforest fill her up.

“That’s because everything is in balance. Now, the kuewa will seek to disrupt the equilibrium. They will work to hurt those who have hurt them. And they know the surest way to do so is to attack that which they love most.”

Lei was definitely starting to question whether or not she was actually old enough to hear this, but there was no turning back now. “Which is?”

“The children. The kuewa will seek to destroy the children. And in doing so, they destroy the future. There’s nothing these kuewa would want more than to bring those who hurt them to their knees. They will have a single-minded focus trying to carry this out.”

Lei’s mouth was as dry as the Kaʻū Desert. Losing Kaipo would have been devastating to her family. But to have the children of Hawaiʻi killed? Horror burned a bright flame under her skin. A warm hand squeezed her arm. Lei touched Kaipo’s hand, but no amount of reassurance would work in a situation like this. Makani must have felt the same way, because they tore through the trees and then came screeching back again, like they were trying to expend their frustrated energy. A twisted part of Lei’s brain couldn’t help but wonder what the cutoff age for “children” would be. Was she in danger of being killed? Or were middle schoolers safe?

Lei snapped her hair band. There was no time to mentally debate the maturity level of a rising seventh grader. She had to do what she did best—focus on this new problem and come up with a plan.

“Okay, we can do this.” Lei paced the small space to try and organize her thoughts. “Pendant removal in three days. What day is it today?”

“Uh, Lei?” Ili interrupted. Lei glanced her way. Kaukahi’s face was completely drained of blood.

“Whoa, Kaukahi.” Lei grabbed one arm and Ilikea grabbed her other. Together they lowered her to the ground. The girl was mumbling something over and over.

“Can you make out what she’s saying?” Lei asked.

Ilikea lowered her ear to the stunned girl’s mouth. “Something…three…pa…para…kama…”

“Paracord?” Lei guessed.

“Paranormal?” Kaipo tried.

“Para…kama…come on, Kaukahi, gimme something to work with,” Ilikea said.

The three of them hovered over Kaukahi, listening closely.

“Parade!” Ilikea shouted, face proud, arms in the air, finally getting it. “Oh no.” Her arms fell, hands over her mouth. “Oh no, no, no.”

She sat on the ground next to her descendant. Lei pieced it all together. They had three days to get the pendants back. The spirits were drawn to massive crowds of people. And in three days…the biggest parade of the summer was happening in Waikīkī—the Kamehameha Day parade. And Kaukahi said she had to have her mom’s dress ready by then. But didn’t this new “killing of the future” take the lead over her mom’s outfits? This girl really needed to reexamine her priorities.

Lei raised a brow at Ilikea. She’s freaked over a dress?

Ili’s glare came back loud and clear. I dealt with all your freak-outs last week. You can deal with this now.

Lei attempted to telepathically respond, That wasn’t at all the same, but Ilikea just shook her head, not knowing how to read her. With a huff, Lei sank down next to Kaukahi. Kaipo stared at the trio, concern etched all over his face but clearly out of the loop.

“Kaukahi has a masterpiece she’s creating for her mom to wear on Saturday,” Lei explained.

Kaipo rubbed his forehead as if trying to figure out how clothing fit into all this. The teensiest bit of smugness seeped into Lei’s gut knowing that he didn’t see the value there, either.

Ili chimed in, “The Kamehameha Day parade is three days away.”

Dawning realization smoothed Kaipo’s forehead.

“Oh,” he whispered.

“Well, I guess the good thing is we have a date that’s easy to remember. And,” Lei said, realizing that this could work to their benefit, “if they are drawn to crowds, maybe we’re lucky this happens to line up with the parade.”

Kaukahi groaned. Lei patted her back absently, deep in thought.

“So we need to get the pendants back from the kuewa. How? I mean, Kaipo and Ili…Well…” Lei chewed her lip to stop herself from giving away their secret. This guy seemed to know everything, but she didn’t want to blurt out that her friends could change into fliers. “They might have an easier time than Kaukahi and me, but this won’t be simple.”

“Ah, you akamai to some of the ways, yeah?” the man said, his eyes twinkling. “Here’s the thing: The longer they have their pendants, the more the kuewa will take the shapes of their ʻaumākua, solidifying into creature form. As for how to capture them…” He smiled and looked at his companions, who grinned like they were in on a secret. Lei didn’t like it one bit. “Your kūpuna can help you find those we’ve lost. They hold the secret. Give this to them as a mahalo for keeping the ʻike for so long.”

Lopaka held out a small ti-leaf bundle. Lei accepted the pūʻolo and tucked it safely in her pack.

“Remember, three days,” Lopaka said. Then he and his friends backed away into the leaves.

“Wait!” Lei called.

They had to find an elder who held the knowledge of how to capture ancient things and somehow use it to catch these spirits before they killed any kids. And, of course, they were once again on the wrong island. Story of her life—she was never where she wanted to be.

“Please, do you happen to know a way to Oʻahu from here? We came from Hawaiʻi Island,” Lei pleaded.

“Ah, yeah, just hele ana i ke ānuenue pō, go across the night ānuenue.” He waved an arm in the general direction of the beach, then turned to leave. Lei looked at her friends, all with brows raised to various heights.

“Okay, well, I guess we’re going somewhere over the night rainbow.”