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On Wednesday morning, before we go to meet Travis from Shoreline Constructions, Derek has arranged for us to call in on Momi. Now that we know the bare bones of the Rosemary Davis tragedy, Derek suspects she’ll be more useful than Travis. He thinks her intuition will point us in the right direction.
After my first meeting with Momi, I’m surprised not to feel tense about another visit. My initiation into the local culture must be working, in spite of the sad tale we’ve uncovered at the Coopers’ house.
“I wish we still had that bottle,” Derek says. “She’s good with objects. What a trouble it’s been for everyone – when we had it and couldn’t get the picture out, and now that we’ve no longer got it.”
He’s brought the broken Shoreline Constructions sign instead.
On the way, he stops at a flower stall to pick up a small garland of leaves and flowers for Momi’s wrist.
“It’s a kupe’e,” he tells me. “A hula decoration. Momi used to dance hula and she’ll be able to look at it on her wrist. If it’s around her neck or in her hair she can only see it in the mirror.”
It reminds me how thoughtful Derek is, how lucky I am to find a friend like him.
The setup at the nursing home is a rerun of last time and Momi is waiting for us in the same reception room. She’s also wearing the same serene smile.
When she sees me, she says my name. “Sel-kie.”
I sit down beside her. “Aloha again, Momi. Thank you for remembering my name.”
Derek allows us to smile at each other for a while before he slips the lei onto her wrist.
“Kupe’e.” She moves her hand in an expressive way to admire it.
Then Derek shows her the Shoreline sign. “Today we brought this sign for you to look at, Momi.”
She reaches for it and gives it her full attention, moving her fingers over it almost as if it’s braille. At last she smiles at Derek. “Momi kupe’e.”
“Yes, the kupe’e is for you, Momi. It’s yours to keep.”
Sensing his disappointment that she’s repeating herself, I get an idea. I pull out my phone and show her the photo of Rosemary’s drawing.
Momi’s face lights up. “Rabbit.”
Another coincidence? I keep the chill from my voice. “I wondered if it was a rabbit. What’s this rabbit’s name?”
When Derek translates my question, she closes her fingers into fists and knocks them together several times. “Ili ili.”
“Is that a hula movement, Momi?” Derek asks. “I don’t know what it means, Selkie. You need to ask Wanda.”
In a text message to my flatmate, I do my best to spell ili ili, along with a description of Momi’s action.
After the ritual with the drinks from the trolley, it’s time to leave.
When we reach the door accompanied by an attendant, Momi points her adorned wrist towards us and waves. “Momi kupe’e.”
Back at the car I say, “She liked your gift, DD.”
“Yes, but it distracted her from reading the sign. Showing her the drawing was inspired. It wasn’t a wasted trip. A collision of symbols means we’re getting closer to solving the mystery.”
“But if Rosemary’s drawing is a rabbit, I don’t like these resonances with current events one bit.”
How is Sage involved with the drawing? I can’t stop worrying about that. She’s an innocent five-year-old. Her parents – and the rest of us – are out of our depth.
*
When Travis greets us at the renovation site, I introduce Derek as DD and slip my arm through his. Hollywood, here I come.
“From what Dad told me,” Travis says, “this house is similar to the fixer-upper you’ve bought over in Makakilo. We start by finding out what’s worth keeping and come up with a construction schedule that puts a roof over your head first. Are you planning to live on site throughout the work? It’s a tough gig, with so many people invading your privacy on a daily basis. You’ll save on therapy bills if you can move out for a while.”
“Then there’s the music you guys play,” Derek says. “I work from home.”
Travis laughs. “We turn off the boombox, if the client doesn’t share our taste.”
Time for me to redirect the conversation. “I’m seriously impressed by how long Shoreline’s been going, Travis. Your dad didn’t actually say when he bought the company but was it sometime in the sixties?”
“In 1973. Before I was born. Then I did my apprenticeship and eventually took over. Now my son’s a chip off the old block too.”
We’re standing on the street in front of the work site. Travis seems happy to talk about the company but unless Rhett has told him about it, he’ll know nothing about the tragedy at Waipunalani, assuming it’s what Rhett is hiding. I’m trying to find a way to bring up the drowning when my eyes rest on an updated Shoreline Constructions sign nailed to the front fence – and the name in small print underneath it: Travis Akina & Son, Residential Builders.
Shit.
Ignoring my runaway pulse, I dive in. “I see your name’s Akina. Any relation to Ralph Akina, the tennis champion?”
Beside me Derek trembles.
Travis misses a beat. “How do you know Uncle Ralph? He hasn’t been heard of for decades.”
I laugh. “I’m an Elvis tragic. I read somewhere that Ralph had a bit part in Blue Hawaii. Back in March 1961. In fact I heard he was an apprentice at Shoreline Constructions, but Rhett didn’t mention it.”
Before Travis can respond, Derek’s phone rings.
“What?” he snaps. Then his tone changes. “Of course we’ll help. We’re on our way.” He turns to me, his face ashen. “Selkie, we have to go. That was Hudson. Sage has disappeared.”
“No!”
“They’ve looked everywhere and now they’re getting a search party together.” He drops his voice. “There are ravines up there.”
As my equilibrium flips, I turn back to Travis. “Sage is five years old. She’s living at the house where five-year-old Rosemary Davis drowned in March 1961. The Everett Turner house. Ralph Akina worked there and he tried to revive her. Sage has found a drawing that Rosemary did and she’s keeping it in a bottle. Now she’s gone missing.”
Travis is Hawaiian. He knows what I’m getting at. “Dad is Ralph’s younger brother ... and he knows about the drowning.”
My legs are barely keeping me up. “Thank you! Ring Rhett now. Tell him about Sage. Ask him to text me the answer to a question. It’s urgent. Did Rosemary Davis have a nickname? I’ll call him on the way.”
We run to Derek’s car and he takes off at speed towards the Pali Highway and Maunawili.
“What are you thinking, Selkie?”
“I don’t know. Wanda asked me last night if Hudson is Sage’s stepfather, if Sage’s situation is a mirror of Rosemary’s. She reminded me that weird things happen around here. Now I’m just following my gut.”
Derek is pushing the speed limit so he keeps his attention on the traffic.
When my phone pings with a text, I look down at the name I’ve feared.
Roxie.
“DD, Rosemary Davis had a nickname. Roxie.”
“The invisible friend.”
“Sage told Lolana she knows someone who changed her name. I was wrong about Roxie. I snapped at you that invisible friends aren’t ghosts and I was wrong!”
There’s no time for recriminations. Rhett’s answered my question so Travis has prepared him for my call. I put him on speaker.
“You tricked me,” Rhett says. “You’re working for that ghost-hunting website.”
“I lied because we were desperate to find the tragedy that’s hanging over the old Turner house. Now the stakes are much higher, Rhett. Another child’s life is in danger. Five-year-old Sage is missing.”
“Travis told me. You think this little girl is channelling Roxie Davis?”
Channelling. There it is, out in the open. The word pushes me into unknown territory but how else would Sage create Roxie? I remind myself to breathe. “She has an invisible friend named Roxie.”
He gets it. “What do you need to know? Ralph was at the inquest every day. I was still at school but we shared a bedroom. He talked about it every night.”
“Why did Roxie drown?”
“It wasn’t Ralph’s fault but he blamed himself. He was giving Audrey Turner some bad news about her husband. Turner was bringing teenage girls to the pool house when she wasn’t there. All the builders knew. It was a big joke. Ralph thought Audrey should know about it but she got so upset that neither of them noticed Roxie go missing.”
Now Sage is missing. If I think about that, I’ll lose my focus. “OK Rhett, they got distracted. But what happened to Roxie? Why did she drown?”
I don’t know why this is so important but all I can do is follow my gut.
“There were no witnesses. It was a Saturday so Turner was coaching in Kailua. Only Ralph and Audrey were there but they didn’t see what happened, just the child’s lifeless body. The press tried to say they were too busy in each other’s arms to notice or care where Roxie was, but that wasn’t true.”
He’s still protecting his brother’s reputation after sixty years but it’s not what I need. “Rhett, what did the inquest find? Why did she drown?”
At last he gets there. “She had a new bracelet. Maybe for her birthday? She was still holding onto it when Ralph pulled her out of the water.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The inquest found that it was a little too big for her tiny wrist. It must have slipped off into the pool, and she went in to get it. The water from the spring was very clear. The bracelet would have sparkled in the sunlight. She was used to the pool so she should have been able to splash to the side and climb out. There were lots of rocks and plants around the edge to hang onto but she needed both hands and ... she wouldn’t let go of the bracelet.”
My fear of water threatens to cloud my thinking. “What kind of bracelet?”
“Pearls. A little pearl bracelet with her name engraved on a silver nameplate. It’s why it was so precious.”
My heart goes out to Audrey. How did she live with herself after giving her daughter the very thing that was responsible for her death, while she was worrying about something that seemed so much more important, and wasn’t? You can walk out on a bad husband, but a child’s life ... I’m right back to Sage.
“Do you know what happened to the bracelet?” I ask.
“It went to Audrey, I guess. In the end, she and Ralph weren’t charged with a crime. Accidental death. But their lives were already destroyed. How could you live with yourself after that?” His voice has become thick with emotion. Did Rhett lose his brother too? “That’s all I want to say for the moment, if you have everything you need. I hope you find little Sage safe and sound.”
When we hang up, Derek says, “Momi knew about the bracelet. I missed the other meaning of momi kupe’e. It’s the lei on Momi’s wrist and it’s also ... a pearl bracelet.”
So Momi read the bracelet from the Shoreline sign. Both objects related to Roxie’s death. Sixty years ago.
“If it’s an important clue, DD, how does it help us find Sage?” I won’t even consider we might have already lost her.
He thinks about this. “Why is Sage missing? Is she hiding? Has she run away? Has her disappearance been influenced by Roxie?”
It’s the crux of the issue – the character of the ghost.
“A bracelet so treasured she wouldn’t let go of it. What does that say about Roxie?”
“Wilful,” he says. “And a pearl bracelet is an expensive gift for a five-year-old. A child who got what she wanted.”
“What does she want from Sage?”
At the turnoff to Maunawili, the traffic lights are red and take forever to change. Derek turns into the road that winds through the overhanging vegetation, the deep shadows reflecting the darkness of our mood.
The Cooper house is alive with people and vehicles. Builders. Police. Fire Department. Search and Rescue in fluoro orange. By the time Derek finds a place to park, and we reach Waipunalani on foot, search teams have formed and left in several directions.
A firefighter on marshalling duty answers Derek’s question about the Mt Olomana Trail. “They left about ten minutes ago.”
“I’ll catch up with them,” Derek says.
Something makes me grab his arm. “Don’t go, DD.”
“Listen to the lady, Buddy.”
“I know that trail,” Derek says. “It’s only treacherous in wild weather and I’ve got the right gear.” He indicates his hiking boots.
“You’re not a member of OSAR,” the marshal says. “Oahu Search and Rescue,” he adds for my benefit. “Only highly trained volunteers are out on the trail looking for the kid. But we could do with a hand over at the food truck.”
Derek presses his lips together. As we walk away, he says, “So I’m not highly trained enough. What’s your reason, Selkie?”
“Just a feeling.” It sounds ridiculous but he’s encouraged it.
“You think the OSAR team is in danger?”
“Just you.”
He pulls a face, then sighs. “OK. What are you going to do?”
“Search the grounds.”
“They’ve already done that.”
“We’ve got to do something, DD. These rescue teams have to comb all the wild places, but five-year-olds don’t go far.”
Are my own childhood escapes clouding my judgement? At about five, I put some underwear in a shopping bag, grabbed an apple and hid behind a rock at the end of our street. There was a lot of bushland nearby but I stayed in sight of our house. After a few hours of wondering why no-one had found me, I stumbled home like Lassie, hoping for a big hug. Stella didn’t do hugs. Hands on hips were as kind as she got.
Where is Sage hiding? Because I don’t think she’s lost.
Gracie emerges from the house, her face tear-stained and haggard. “Thank you for coming,” she says. “They’ve told me to stay put, in case she turns up by herself.” She’s not going to send me away today.
“Do you mind if we do another sweep of the grounds?” I ask. “Could she have fallen asleep somewhere, and slept through it all?”
“That’s possible, I suppose. We’ve been calling her name all morning.” She can barely get the words out. “But when Sage was younger she slept through a smoke alarm. I just don’t know where she could be. They’ve used a thermal imaging camera under the buildings and now they’re waiting for a rescue dog.”
“I hope you don’t mind this question, but was she upset about anything? Do you think she ran away? It might help to understand her mindset.”
“Are you a psychologist?”
“No, but I’ve worked with this age group. As a teacher.” A trainee teacher who went into marketing. Better than saying I used to be a runaway five-year-old.
She blows out a heavy sigh. “We argued about the bottle. She hasn’t let go of it since you brought it back, Derek. She insisted on taking it to bed with her last night and woke up when I tried to sneak it away from her. But this isn’t helping us find her, is it?”
I decide not to push her about the drawing, if that’s the precious thing, not the bottle. Roxie’s drawing of a rabbit called ili ili, if Momi is right.
A woman helping at the food van walks over to the outdoor table with a tray of drinks and sandwiches.
Derek says, “Gracie, stay here where Sage can see you. Eat some food. We’ll search all the places you’ve already looked. She knows us, so she won’t be frightened. And keep your spirits up. Stranger things have happened.”
“And we thought this house was so peaceful, our special place.” She wipes away another tear.
As we turn away Derek murmurs, “We need to check the most dangerous places first.”
That gives me a thought and I turn back to Gracie. “Where did Sage go to get the Shoreline sign the other day? She ran around the back of the house. Is there a shed?”
“An out-building. The old pool house. We were trying to renovate it for guest accommodation, but it’s too far gone.” She points to a ramshackle building just visible behind the house. “Sage knows she’s not allowed to go there because it’s not safe. That’s made it tempting. It’s why Huds got her to make the pond. The fire department did a thorough search with a remote camera. And everyone’s called her name.”
“Good to know. Thanks.” But could she be tucked away where the camera couldn’t see her?
We head towards the pool house. When we’re out of earshot, I say, “Sage wasn’t allowed in the pool house but she went in there to get the sign. Whose idea was that?”
The sign that led us to discover the drowning. Derek knows what I’m thinking: Roxie?
For once he’s the practical one. “If Sage is hiding in there, why hasn’t she answered?”
The question is niggling at me too. They’ve been calling her name for hours. If I’m right that she’s around here somewhere – and not stumbling along a narrow walking trail with a ravine on each side, God forbid – then she’s slept through the whole thing. Or she’s not answering.
Why?
As we reach the corner of the main house, Lolana catches up with us.
“I’m glad you two are here. It’s taken me all morning to get away. Gracie told me you’re doing another sweep of the grounds and out-buildings. Let’s hope she’s curled up asleep in a safe little hidey-hole somewhere.”
We turn the corner and come to a barricade that’s preventing access to the pool house. Now that we can see all of it, it’s larger than I expected. Half the roof has fallen in.
A guy in work shorts and toe-capped boots steps forward. “No access. We started the demolition this morning. It’s very unstable.”
What if Sage is in there somewhere in spite of the cameras? “Do you mind if I call out? That won’t rumble the foundations?”
“Go ahead. For all the good it will do you.”
I take a deep breath and call out as loudly as I can. “Selkie! I’m looking for the girl who’s changed her name to Selkie. My name’s Selkie too. Aloha?”
In the silence that follows comes a tiny squeak. “Aloha. My name’s Selkie. It starts with ‘s’.”