Stand Together

Halfway to the herd of sharks, a massive half-human crow flew into them, knocking Kaukahi and Ilikea down and pinning them with its wings. Its beak started pecking, and Lei had flashbacks of being trapped under ʻIo, Pele’s hawk. She ran back to help, but Kaukahi grabbed the beak with both hands and called out to Lei: “No! Keep going. Ili and I got this.”

Ilikea rammed her knees up into the crow’s feathery belly, causing its human legs to kick out in pain.

“Handled!” the bat-girl affirmed.

Lei glanced worriedly at Kaipo.

“Let’s go, they’ll be fine,” he assured her, right before a gigantic six-foot-tall sea cucumber folded down over him, swallowing him whole like a vacuum tube. One second Kaipo was there, the next second—gone. Nothing remained but a sea cucumber standing on two feet.

“Kaipo!” Lei screamed.

“Lei!” Pele shouted. “A little help?”

Lei’s head pounded. It was all too much. All she wanted was Kaipo back and now he was gone again. Pele was right, they weren’t going to last long.

“Lei?” Pele called again.

But Lei couldn’t pull her eyes from the creature in front of her. It pulsed, as if working to digest her ʻaumakua. No. This was not how it ended. She reached out to yank off its pendant, but froze, worried Kaipo could get transformed with it somehow. She didn’t know how these things worked.

“Kaukahi?” Lei shouted.

“Mm-hmm?” The girl’s voice was muffled, as if under a pillow.

Lei’s eyes stung and she battled the chaos in her brain. She was being pulled in too many directions, but her heart…her naʻau…

“I’m gonna have to kill one.”

“Huh?” Kaukahi asked.

“Lei!” Pele called.

But Lei had closed out the voices, letting the one in her head that pounded with every heartbeat, Kaipo, Kaipo, Kaipo, take over as she backed up, then slammed into the loli with all her might. Like an unstable sausage, it tumbled to the ground. Spying an oversize ʻopihi sneaking by, Lei grabbed it and yanked off its pendant. The creature went slack, all mushy mucus under a sharp shell. Lei gripped it like an X-Acto blade, kneeled next to the loli, and sliced it right down the center.

Peeling back the thick, squishy edges, she found Kaipo—eyes closed, lips pinched tight, covered in goop.

“Be okay, be okay, be okay,” she murmured, reaching her hand under his head to pull him up.

Something hard slammed into Lei, knocking her away from Kaipo. She did a reverse somersault and got to her feet, poised to take on the unseen threat. Her narrow focus had left her open to attack.

There. One of the shark-guys ground his foot in the sand like an angry bull, ready to rush her again as if her red shirt was a flag egging him on. Lei put herself between Kaipo and the shark, ready to fight, watching as two other sharks circled closer. Hopefully if this was it, it’d be over fast.

“CHEEEEhoooooo!” A high-pitched cry rang out, tearing Lei’s attention from the shark. There, charging down the sidewalk, was a horde of Hawaiians in slippers, some wearing them on their feet, some on their hands for speed. It was the ʻohana from the west side led by the two big Frisbee-carrying guys—Junior Boy and Sava—from the beach party.

They all jumped in, ganging up on the sharks and other kuewa who were now greatly outnumbered. One guy used his fishing pole like a pro, hooking a shark’s pendant from behind and yanking it off before the spirit even noticed, sending it slithering back to the sea.

Lei looked back at the shark in front of her as he charged. She dodged to the right, snaking her hand out at the last minute to hook it on the shark’s gills, and swung herself onto his human shoulders. She wrapped her legs around his thick neck in a choke hold and pulled the pendant off as his human arms flailed, trying to dislodge her.

As soon as the pendant was removed, he lowered himself to the ground, turning back into a full shark before slithering to the water.

Breathing hard, Lei crouched down to help Kaipo. He was still lying in gunk, now crusty around the edges in the hot sun. Heart in her throat, she pulled him out. When he hit the sand he coughed, and a huge chunk of sea cucumber flew from his mouth. As he gasped and choked, Lei removed the dead kuewa’s pendant, her gut going cold with the knowledge that she’d rekilled someone’s ancestor.

Kaipo’s hand squeezed hers. “Thanks for saving me. Again,” he croaked.

Lei patted his hand, offering a watery smile. “What was with the chunk you choked on?”

“Tried eating my way out.” He offered a weak smile, then craned his head to take in the damage. Lei stood, ready to help, but with the rallying of the locals, everything seemed under control. Kaukahi and Ili were collecting feathers that were strewn about them on the sand, the crow nowhere in sight.

As more and more of the creatures slowly slunk back to the water or took off to the sky, the streets cleared and people righted tipped rubbish cans and cautiously approached abandoned vehicles. Lei was disentangling a necklace from a prickly purple wana when she heard a throat clear behind her. The Menehune she’d met outside the cave on Kuaihelani Island stood on the wall with wide eyes, taking in the somewhat less chaos-y chaos around them. Lopaka smiled as he watched Pele teaming up with one of the uncles—not anyone Lei’d met before, but he was a local grown-up, so here in Hawaiʻi he was uncle. Everybody was family.

“ʻIke aku, ʻike mai, kōkua aku kōkua mai; pēla ihola ka nohana ʻohana,” Lopaka said.

Lei blinked. “I…I’m not sure what that means,” she admitted, snaring the pendant from a final fish-person trying to sneak past her.

“Recognize and be recognized, help and be helped; such is family life. You gotta put family first, they are most important. And remember, this…” Lopaka gestured at everyone on shore, celebrating as the final pendants were collected. Whoops and cheers reached her ears out on the wall. “This lāhui is your ʻohana. You know them, and they know you. You help them, and they’ll be there for you. Your friends are your family. Be sure to make them your priority.”

Lei’s fingertips tingled, his words resonating deep under her skin as she watched Kaukahi and Ilikea embrace some of the aunties, talking and laughing. Kaukahi kept reaching up to adjust goggles that weren’t there. Kaipo had teamed up with a couple folks to comb the beach, helping push rocks that could no longer move to places where they wouldn’t be tripping hazards. Yes, this was her family. Know them and they know you. That meant not only talking about her problems but also listening to others. Like, really listening. To Kaukahi and to herself. She didn’t have to do this alone.

“Speaking of helping family, I was hoping I’d see you again. Mahalo nui loa for everything. For your advice with the kūpuna, for your help with the loko iʻa.” Lei gestured to the pond. “It worked perfectly, holding everything in so we could scoop their necklaces off before reopening the gate.”

She headed to the part of the pond farthest from shore. The Menehune had constructed a gate of twigs lashed together, which allowed water to flow in and out, but was woven so tightly that the creatures were all stuck inside. She pulled the latch on the outside of the gate, and it swung open with the force of a large shark’s nose. The dark shadows all swam out and were gone in the blink of an eye. “We couldn’t have done it without you,” Lei said as she turned to Lopaka, but the Menehune was gone. The wall was empty.

Lei rubbed the goose bumps on her arms and headed to the beach, where she was greeted by her family, new and old.

Junior Boy gave her a chin nod. “Eh, you some kine Hawaiian.”

He held out a fist and Lei bumped it with hers, grinning as he then wrapped her in a hug. She was passed from person to person, hugging and laughing through tears.

“How’d you folks know to come down?” Lei asked.

Aunty Ruby squished her way to the front of the group. “Mama knew something was up. She wouldn’t let it go till I promised to check on you folks. Said our cousins needed us, so, here we are! No kuewa going ack up on our ʻāina. All Hawaiʻi, stand together,” she started singing.

The lāhui backed her up, everyone wrapping arms around one another’s shoulders and waists, swaying and singing, voices thick with shared pride and purpose: “It’s now and forever.”

Lei looked around for Kaipo, spying him toward the back of the group. He smiled and winked at her when he joined in on “to guide the destinies of our generations.”

When the group sang the line about Tūtū Pele, Lei searched the crowd for the fire goddess, but couldn’t find her anywhere. Lei let herself relax, losing herself in the familiar repetition of the chorus. It was over. Kaipo was safe. Hawaiʻi was safe. Judging by Kaukahi’s arm around Ilikea’s shoulders and the answering full-faced grin, they were in a good place. And Lei’s head was blessedly quiet and clear.

When the song was over and all the hugs given and alohas said again, the west-side group headed back to their trucks.

Lei watched Aunty Ruby slip her new slippers on her feet and call out, “Eh, Ipo, you owe me twenty dollas!”

“For what?”

“You never thought we’d see those Menehune again! You was wrong.” Aunty Ru laughed. Lei’s jaw dropped. They’d seen them before?

“Betchu another twenty that’s the last time we see them,” Aunty Ipo said.

Aunty Ruby looked back at Lei and winked. “You’re on!”

Lei smiled. Then Sava turned back and jogged toward them, pulling something from the back pocket of his surf shorts. “Eh, I found this on the beach the other day. Thought it might be one of yours.”

In his hand was a small piece of silver.

“My thimble!” Kaukahi cried.

She scooped it up and gave the guy a massive hug. His cheeks flushed pink when she didn’t let go right away, and Lei tapped her on the shoulder.

“Think he needs to catch up with his crew.”

Kaukahi released him instantly, her own cheeks reddening. “Oh, yeah. Of course. Thank you!”

He shrugged nonchalantly and ran off to join his boys as Kaukahi pressed her thimble to her chest.

Lei looked at her phone. It was 11:15. That was probably the middle of the night or something in Paris, but she couldn’t wait till tomorrow to talk to Ridley. She didn’t send a picture, even though she was finally in what was arguably the very definition of tourist-vacation-central and could show it off. Instead, she texted:

Lei: miss u. hope Paris is amazing. Would love to hear about it when u have time

She sent a purple heart emoji before she could overthink it and put the phone in her pocket. It was a start.