West Side

Lei’s confidence seeped out of her. But Kaipo kept her by his side, then released her wrist and oh-so-casually put his arm over her shoulder and turned to her ear.

“Just go around and say hi to everyone. Don’t ask for anything. If they are open and ask you your name, school, and family, you can tell them your last name and about Tūtū or Aunty Charlotte,” he whispered fast, making it look like he was just checking out the waves. “Now’s the time to be respectful. The best way to learn is to be quiet, watch, and listen, not go charging in looking for answers.” He lowered his arm and tried to look natural.

Two high schoolers with bodies as big and strong as the pōhaku that formed the valley walls came out of the ocean. They pulled Frisbees modified with shoestring straps off each hand. That’s how they were staying up! Lei admired the creativity as they dropped their makeshift wave catchers on the pile of pails and shovels. They cast a glance over to Kaukahi, but dismissed her quickly since she was singing along with the uncles like she’d always been there. Their eyes made their way to Lei and Kaipo and didn’t move on.

Lei mimicked the others, forcing her shoulders back, feet firmly planted, trying not to puke from nerves. She gave a little chin nod, meeting their eyes. I belong. I’m enough. If I can face Pele, I can be at this party. The only part of the stance she couldn’t mimic was the arms out to the side, because she was frantically snapping her hair band behind her back like there was no tomorrow. The slightly smaller guy finally gave her a nod back as he nudged his buddy and headed to the outdoor showers. Lei’s knees went wobbly. She’d done it! She didn’t cower.

Kaipo elbowed her. “Check you out.”

Lei grinned.

One of the smiling aunties came over, wearing a lauhala hat with a puka on top so her massive cinnamon-roll bun of salt-and-pepper-colored hair was clearly visible. “Aloha! I see you went meet Junior Boy and Sava. I’m Aunty Ruby, Mama’s youngest and best-looking.”

“Eh, no go spreading lies, Ru,” another aunty with a red pāreu tied across her chest called as she carried a diapered baby on her hip and used tongs to put noodles onto a paper plate.

“Eh, shaddap, Ipo. Go give your moʻopuna back to your girl. Let me have my fun.” Aunty Ruby made shooing motions with her hands.

Aunty Ipo cackled and waddled off with the food and baby toward a woman who was watching naked toddlers play in the sand near the water.

“Come, come, I go introduce you folks. Where you from?” Aunty Ruby asked.

“We’re from Hawaiʻi Island, Volcano side.”

“Oh yeah? You go Keaʻau Middle? You know my niece, Uʻi Frederickson? Henry!” Aunty Ruby called over to one of the musicians playing with Kaukahi.

He didn’t miss a note, but gave her a chin nod.

“What grade Uʻi stay?”

“Just pau eighth,” Uncle Henry answered.

Aunty Ruby nodded and looked at Kaipo and Lei for an answer as they all settled into chairs. Lei felt her hands shake. Talking about her life in Colorado seemed like too much to get into right now.

When Kaipo spoke to deflect, Lei steadied herself. She’d almost forgotten how amazing having him on her team was.

“Yeah, they’re near the twenty-four-mile mark, Aliʻi Anela Street. We’re near twenty-three, Aliʻi Kane Street, by the Lawakuas. You know them? Their daughter grad Waiakea, then went UH. I think she’s a firefighter out this side now?”

“Oh yeah, yeah, yeah! She went marry Ipo’s son’s wife’s cousin. They might be here later.”

“Right on,” Kaipo said, smiling.

Connection made, Aunty Ruby passed this info along as they went around the circle of family, meeting everyone, explaining tangled webs of relationships that sometimes involved blood, sometimes didn’t, but felt equal all the same. They met Aunty Kaipuala, and Lei tried not to crush her lei as she gave her a hug and kiss on the cheek and offered, “Happy birthday, Aunty.”

Introductions pau, Aunty Ruby ushered them both to the plates at one end of the first of many tables loaded with food. She guided them down the line. Lei helped herself to manapua, mac salad, and, because she couldn’t decide, a bit of garlic chicken and a piece of teriyaki chicken with rice. When she got to the dessert table, she snagged a banana lumpia, a haole brownie, and a malasada.

As the musicians continued to play familiar songs, folks joined in from time to time. Sometimes people would kick off their slippers and dance if they knew the hula. Aunty Kaipuala received an endless stream of hugs and kisses as she remained on her folding-chair throne. Aunties and uncles and cousins all doted on her, making sure she was never hot or hungry or thirsty, and the pile of lei got so high, Lei thought it’d swallow her whole. Lei could hear her laughing and talking with her visitors, but was too far to hear what she was saying.

“Can we move closer? Maybe she’ll say something that’ll help us.” Lei stood to throw away her dish. Her stomach groaned at the sudden movement after being stuffed so thoroughly.

“Hang on, I feel like something’s coming.” Kaipo stood and turned out to the ocean.

There were bodies glistening as they bobbed up and down, waiting for the next set of waves to drift in. The two guys who’d sized Lei up earlier were sitting on the sand with towels draped over their heads and backs. Nothing seemed out of place…

But there it was. A huge fin, slicing through the water just beyond the people in the waves. Lei sucked in a breath, but one of the naked toddlers beat her to it, yelling in a voice shockingly loud for such a small human: “Manō!”

Everyone sprang into action, smiling and pointing, talking about the last time they saw a shark and whether or not they’d ever seen one with a fin that big.

Aunty Ruby called out, “Eh, Ma! Your ʻaumakua is giving you his blessing on your birthday!”

“ʻAe, ʻae. Somebody go grab the pan under the table and help me down there,” Aunty Kaipuala said.

Many hands guided Aunty Kaipuala and all her lei down the beach, while another aunty carried the pan from under the table. A couple of guys and girls with boogie boards kicked their way to shore, flopping out with their fins on their feet to reach the group. Lei kept up, listening to the discussion, just like Kaipo had instructed.

“Ma, you want to borrow my board?” one of the older guys asked.

“ʻAʻole. I just ate. Gotta wait twenty minutes.”

Everyone laughed with her but allowed her the excuse. The fin approached, and people made room. When the massive creature was close enough for Lei to make out the dark stripes on his back, Mama Kaipuala took the meat from the pan and chanted to the shark, offering the gift. She waded deep enough that the large creature was able to swim up the channel between the reefs and meet her. Lei’s heart still raced to see so many teeth so close, but Mama Kaipuala just placed her hand reverently on his head and smiled. The shark took the offering and swam off, back into the deep as he disappeared under the sea.

“Well, that was exciting,” Lei said to Kaipo as they made their way back up.

“That was perfect,” Kaukahi chimed in from behind, surprising Lei. “Uncle Henry, the other ʻukulele player, said that Mama Kaipuala’s ʻaumakua only makes appearances under auspicious circumstances.”

Lei blinked at her.

“When things are good,” Kaukahi explained with an eye roll.

“Right, I knew that.” Lei caught Kaipo rubbing his mouth like he was trying to cover up a smile. “I did! Whatever. What’s this mean?”

“It means that they’ll all be discussing what about today is auspicious. Obviously her birthday, but he doesn’t show up every birthday. Don’t you get it?”

“Why don’t you just go ahead and fill me in?”

Thank goodness one of them knew what to make of these things. Lei was just glad that she was no longer the odd one out in believing Tūtū’s stories. Here was an entire mini village that didn’t bat an eye at ʻaumākua talk.

“This is our in!” Kaukahi’s eyes shone with excitement. “Everyone’s gonna be telling stories about their ʻaumākua now. We can talk about ours—”

“Yeah!” Lei cut in, catching on. “And, if the timing works out, find out more about kuewa without it seeming too out of left field.”

Kaukahi grinned. “Exactly.”

The tent was filled with crackling energy, everyone feeling blessed by the presence of their ancestors, happily recounting minor miracles that had happened to them throughout their lives.

“When I was seven, I was hiking with my braddah and we got lost. One ʻiʻiwi bird started hopping from branch to branch in front of us, and led us all the way home.”

“Yeah, I remembah one time, I was probably three, maybe four, swimming out Babyland and was getting sucked out from shore from backwash, but one honu went push me back up onto sand.”

“Ho, nah. Small kid time I was paddling canoe, and we went huli in one wave. One dolphin went help me back in.”

Every story started getting more and more fantastic until Lei had no idea what to believe or not. And then Kaukahi cleared her throat loudly and everyone looked their way. Kaukahi gave Lei a look and head tilt, urging her to go ahead.

“Uh, well, ah…”

Kaipo nudged her knee with his, soothing her nervousness.

Lei snapped her hair band and continued. “Ah, one time, uh, yesterday? I think?” Her voice squeaked as she looked at Kaukahi. Had it really only been yesterday?

Kaukahi nodded.

“Yeah, yesterday, I was over on Kuaihelani with my ʻaumakua and friend.”

Kaukahi smiled, and the room went totally still at the mention of the invisible island.

One of the kids in the room pulled his mom’s pāreu and asked, “Where’s Kuaihelani?”

“Where the keiki of gods are from.” The lady pulled him into her lap and rocked side to side with her cheek against his cheek as if they were at a story time at the library. Or listening to the keeper of the moʻolelo.

Lei felt her naʻau glow as she continued. “We met some Menehune, who gave us this.” She pulled the pūʻolo of ti leaves from her backpack. “Which I’d like to give to you, Aunty.”

She made her way to Aunty Kaipuala and gave her the bundle. Aunty Kaipuala opened it slowly, to reveal…

A rock.

Whispers whipped through the room like a hurricane, extinguishing the warm glow from a moment ago and transporting Lei into the nightmare of being trapped back in a Colorado classroom where no one believed her.

“What kine Hawaiian you?” It was one of the Frisbee guys who put power to his voice first.

Lei cringed as his accusation hit her heart and made her want to sink out of sight. Of course he’d be the one to call her out. He would never get questioned for not being Hawaiian enough a day in his life. Her neck got prickly and she let her chin drop, until…

Wait a minute…

She went back over what he said. What kine Hawaiian you? He didn’t question that she was Hawaiian! Lei’s chin came right back up, heart soaring. He just thought she was a pretty terrible one, which…fair, given the gift-wrapped rock. Getting teased like she belonged was the weirdest form of flattery ever.

She answered with a grin, “The kind that knows better than to question Menehune and to just be grateful for the gift. Tūtū raised me right.”

“Ha! She told you, Junior Boy!” Aunty Ruby laughed out loud.

He did one of those frown-nods with his large arms crossed over his chest, respect in his eyes.

Aunty Kaipuala spoke up. “And, huuu, what a gift. Get plenty mana in this rock. From Kuaihelani, you said?”

Lei nodded.

“The invisible island. I never thought about that place since small kid time. What kine trouble you in, girl?”

Lei looked at Kaipo and Kaukahi. They were both sitting forward, like they were just as eager to get this next chapter over with.

Lei sat up straighter. “Well, let me start from the beginning.”