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Chapter 15

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After yesterday’s drab outfit, Marisa has dressed in a vibrant slacksuit with retro credentials. She’s rooted her life in the sixties, while I’m running away from my origins as fast as I can go.

Her too-many-cocktails mood of last night has also changed. She’s buoyant, as if she’s faced up to her duty to the Coopers and no longer has to be pushed. Like when I knew I had to leave Andrew – the exit door opened and I wondered why I’d been looking the other way for so long. But I’m not going to think about him. I hope Marisa’s secrets will help release the cloud over Waipunalani and liberate Marisa herself.

As Derek navigates the traffic out of town, she says, “I didn’t tell you why I only gave you that newspaper clipping as your clue.”

Derek grins at her in the rear view mirror. “To make us work.”

“That wasn’t the idea.”

“It’s the only clipping you have from your mother’s collection,” I say.

“How did you know?”

“Just a guess. You were a teenager in a conservative community, probably looking for fun. After all the secrecy around your birth, I’m sure Sofia guarded those clippings, but when you stumbled upon that photo of Ralph Akina on the tennis court, it would have hit you like a centrefold.”

She laughs. “I’d never seen anything like it.”

“I reckon you slipped it into your pocket and hid it away to enjoy in private.”

“Innocent daydreams of romance.” She stares out the window as she remembers.

It’s a glimpse into her story, not just her mother’s. But I remember that photo was dated January 1961, months before the fateful events at Waipunalani. Has Marisa ever wondered about that? Sofia would have been attending the same tennis school as Ralph, both coached by Turner. Did Sofia’s interest in collecting clippings of Ralph – and her burgeoning sexuality – make her vulnerable to Turner’s advances?

“Sofia never found out I took it,” Marisa continues. “Or she didn’t say. Her file of clippings went with her to the Big Island.”

“Will she stay over there with your great-aunt?”

“I expect so. Ever since Sofia’s pregnancy, those two have been close. She’s ninety-six and she’s going to leave her house to Sofia.”

Does Marisa ever visit this great-aunt who made the lie about her birth possible? Or is she the outsider who has never quite fit in? My family won’t talk to me about my birth. Something else we have in common?

As we reach the intersection on the Pali Highway, and Derek takes the turnoff to Maunawili, there’s a shared anticipation in the car. For me it’s a strong sense that endings are coming. And new beginnings. Like Marisa’s emotional makeover?

My heartfelt wish goes to Sage. In relating so closely to her five-year-old imagination, I explained away her unhealthy obsessions – until the pool house ordeal. What’s really going on with the bottle and with Roxie?  Nothing involving spirits and spells, I hope. Just a lonely child finding some innocent objects, and using them to create her own imaginary friend? I’m putting my trust in Lolana to guide her safely out of psychological harm. 

I also hope for an end to Hudson’s renovation frenzy so he and Gracie can lose the stress and enjoy designing their new home. And let’s wind up the Surreal Deal’s unpaid investigation into Waipunalani, so Derek and I can focus on our day jobs.

The driveway is full of dumpsters and waste removal trucks, as if the breakneck renovations won’t stop even for an end-of-week barbecue. It would set an incongruous scene for an exorcism, but after Lolana’s assurances about the gentle process of wehe, I’ve let those fears go.

And there’s the doctor herself, sitting at the table on the lawn, a glass of juice in her hand and a basket at her feet. She greets us with a wave. As we approach, Gracie emerges from the house with a tray of nibbles.

“Hello.” Gracie puts the tray on the table, nods at Derek and me, then turns to her new guest. “You must be Marisa. Welcome to Waipunalani, place of the sacred spring. I’m Gracie and this is Dr Lolana who’s been keeping an eye on our daughter, Sage.”

Marisa is suddenly shy. “Thank you for inviting me.”

Gracie smiles at her before reaching for my hand. “Selkie.” She takes a deep breath. “I couldn’t have done what you did this week and I’ll never be able to thank you enough. I’m jealous of your relationship with Sage – there I’ve said it – but if I’d pushed you aside and played the heroic mother, we might have ... lost her.”

As she throws her arms around me, I feel her gratitude beyond the words. Her apology is so honest and heartfelt that all my prickly feelings about her fall away. Fleetingly I wonder if she’s reminded me of Stella because Stella was more like a mother than I’ve realised.

“Your job was harder than mine,” I whisper. “It’s the other side of teamwork. Letting others do their jobs.” It’s what I teach in my seminars. “And your daughter is safe and sound.” I hope she knows I’m claiming no ongoing role in Sage’s life, as much as my new namesake has spun me in her spell.

Gracie gives me a single nod, wipes away a tear with the back of her hand and focuses on Marisa again. “Derek tells us you know some history about our pool house.” She turns and directs our gaze over her shoulder to the back of the house.

It’s gone.

As we gasp, a couple of workers are picking up odd pieces of debris from an area of bare earth where the pool house used to be. Beside me, Marisa sways on her feet. I guide her into a chair and Lolana pours her a glass of juice. 

“I’m OK,” she whispers. “Just ... shaken.”

I don’t blame her. She must have spent a lifetime both reviling and revering that building. Even a destructive pattern creates a hole when it’s gone. It’s what Wanda said to me about clinging to Andrew, the seductive power of the pull against the push. How many times while this property was abandoned did Marisa make a pilgrimage to the place of her unwanted conception? The conception that altered so many lives? More than once is my guess. The empty vista must represent both relief and loss in equal measure.

It’s even given me a turn. If this is the ending I sensed in the car, what kind of domino effect has it already created? My thoughts go to Sage.

Gracie is upbeat. “The builders have been working flat-out to level it in time for your visit. Haven’t they, Rhett?”

Rhett has joined us from somewhere. Not the building site, judging by his stylish Aloha shirt, pressed shorts and loafers. “Those trucks will be out of your hair any minute, Gracie. I promised both teams a bonus if they were done by four o’clock.”

Site clearance. Dumpsters. Refuse trucks.

What’s happened to the bottle?

Hudson appears from the house and strides across the grass. Gracie does the introductions.

“Sage is finally asleep,” he says. “She’s still shaken from the rescue, but she was refusing to take a nap. Doing the real licks ocean surprise with Daddy did the trick, Lolana. She did a minute of crazy hula then crashed. Fingers crossed she’ll be out for at least an hour.” He turns to me. “She’s excited to show you her new rabbit, Selkie. Of the toy kind, I’m relieved to say.”

I’m keen to meet Pebbles too – and find out what happened under the pool house. But if Lolana wants to focus on leaving the past behind, I’ll have to follow my own advice and let her do her job.

When we’re all sitting around the table, Hudson begins. “Thank you all for coming and for being willing to share what you know about this property – and hopefully dispel the ‘negative energy’ hanging over us. That description’s turned out to be an understatement, Derek.” Derek dips his head. “I think you all know about the tragic accident that took place here in 1961. It’s been news to Gracie and me, but it involves us in a way that was a secret even to us – until Rhett filled us in. We had no idea this was where a child drowned – five-year-old Rosemary Davis – in the spring-fed pool that’s been replaced by the grass under this table.”

As we take in the site of the tragedy beneath our feet, Sage’s close shave with the afterlife brings the shadow of the dead child into the present. We share a silent shiver.

“Bear with me while I summarise the details that Rhett gave us.” Hudson looks around the table. “Back in 1961, Rhett’s brother Ralph worked here on the renovations as a carpenter. The property was owned by Everett Turner who was married to Audrey Davis, Rosemary’s mother.” Rhett nods in acknowledgement. “The tragedy happened while Ralph was telling Audrey about Everett’s,” – Hudson searches for the word – “activities with teenage girls. There’s more, but before I share our news, I wonder if you’d feel comfortable to go first, Marisa, and add your piece to the history of this house.”

Marisa looks across at the missing pool house, as if getting permission to share her past. She begins without preamble. “Everett Turner was my father. On the day of Rosemary’s drowning he was in the pool house seducing my mother, Sofia. She was fifteen.”

Shock ripples around the table. Hudson drops his head into his hands and Rhett curses under his breath. Lolana reaches across and squeezes Marisa’s hand.

Gracie leaps out of her chair and wraps her arms around her. “Marisa, your poor mother, still a child herself. And you. What happened to you both?”

When Gracie sits down again, Marisa recounts Turner’s reaction to the pregnancy and how her grandparents kept it hidden. Everyone is quiet as the ragged emotions behind her story sink in.

“I knew nothing about my real parentage until I found some newspaper clippings about the inquest and started asking questions. My family had been insisting I wait before getting my driving instruction permit – because I’d see my birth certificate – but then they told me the truth.”

After a long pause Rhett speaks. “Marisa, my brother blamed himself for Rosemary’s death. He might have been easier on himself if Turner had owned up to being here that day. But then your mother would have been thrown into the spotlight – and Turner might have been charged with a criminal offence.”

“Nothing was going to undo what happened,” Marisa says. “Or bring Rosemary back. What happened to Ralph? Sofia could have been a tennis star but she never looked at a racquet again.”

“Ralph gave up too,” Rhett replies. “His heart wasn’t in it. He even missed out on a bit part with Elvis in Blue Hawaii. The press tried to say he was having an affair with Audrey. The publicity was so bad, our parents moved the whole family to the mainland after the inquest, and we disappeared from public view. It was a good outcome for me. I finished school over there, got qualified in engineering and building, but Ralph couldn’t settle to anything. He took off one night and never came back. I tracked him down to a cabin in the mountains where I knew he liked to hunt, but he made me promise never to tell where he was. At least our mom knew he was safe. He’s an old man now, still in the same place, living off the land and doing odd jobs for cigarettes.”

More silence as the sadness from the past washes over the present. And I’m grateful Sage is safely tucked up in her bed.

Eventually Lolana says, “After losing her child like that, it’s impossible to imagine the grief Audrey lived with. And her marriage was over. A double tragedy.”

Hudson clears his throat. “My turn, I suppose.” Gracie stands behind him and rests her hands on his shoulders.  “We’ve already told Lolana about this. Audrey Davis was my mother.” He waits for our collective blinks of disbelief. “She passed away about six months ago. Until Rhett told us the background, we had no idea she used to live here or was once married to someone called Everett Turner. And I didn’t know,” – his voice cracks – “I had a sister. Rosemary.”

While he stares at his feet, Gracie takes over. “It explains a lot about Audrey, why she was so private.” Hudson stays silent, letting her continue. “When Sage was born, she wanted us to name her Rosemary. It wasn’t our choice, so when we chose Sage, we joked it was another herb and Audrey accepted that.

“She was very attached to Sage,” she continues. “A doting grandmother. Now I imagine she was seeing her own little girl and remembering her just as she was before she died.” Gracie takes a tissue from her pocket and blows. “When Audrey’s dementia got worse, she started calling Sage Rosemary. We explained to Sage that her granny was getting her herbs mixed up and she was wonderful about it. She’d say, ‘Gran, I’m not Rosemary. I’m the other herb. Sage is delicious too.’”

I can hear Sage’s gentle but matter-of-fact voice, while the old lady was reliving a history no-one knew. “Audrey never told you anything about her past?” I ask. “Even before her dementia?”

“She didn’t even tell my father,” Hudson says. “I rang Dad after Rhett told us everything. He knew the bare details – that Mom had lived in Hawaii years ago and been married to someone called Turner. He also knew she’d lost a baby and assumed it had been during childbirth. She never told him more so he didn’t pry.”

“Grief can do that,” Lolana says. “Some people deal with it by talking about it all the time – and others never speak of it. Both reactions suggest untreated post-traumatic stress. Audrey was carrying a heavy burden.”

Hudson takes a few deep breaths. “She was also an alcoholic. Dad too. They decided I didn’t need to know. Yesterday he told me how they met. At an AA meeting. They’d both sobered up after trying to drown their demons. Mom was well into her forties by then and I was the late surprise they never expected.”

“And now we know why she kept talking about Waipunalani,” Gracie says, “We thought she loved that folksong. Every time we visited, she looked at Sage and called her Rosemary, then said ‘Waipunalani’. So we played the song for her. We can only hope it brought her some peace.”

After a silence, Derek asks, “Do you think it’s a coincidence that you ended up buying this house?” I’m pretty sure he’s not a fan of coincidences.

“We thought it was a coincidence,” Hudson says. “Now it feels as if we were drawn here.” He fills in the others on how they chanced upon Waipunalani in the realtor’s window, recognised the name of the folksong and checked out the place for fun.

“It was so ramshackle we could afford it,” Gracie says. “We kept pinching ourselves at our luck.”

“Then the renovations seemed to stir something up and we wondered if we’d made a mistake.” Hudson updates Marisa and Rhett on the ankle spectre and the death of Noodles. “It’s how we met Dr Lolana – and Derek and Selkie.”

Lolana says, “Your ankle was a case of sleep paralysis, and a feral cat frightened Noodles. Nothing uncanny about either of them.”

“I know, Lolana. Your diagnosis gave me my sanity back. But now we’ve heard what happened to Rosemary, after Sage’s close shave with the pool house, we’re wondering how safe this place is. Have we had a warning?”

I’m with him. They met the three of us because of the so-called spooky happenings, and the connections all feel so random. But what if they hadn’t met any of us? Without our involvement, would Sage have been buried under the collapsing pool house? It doesn’t bear thinking about.

“And there’s Roxie,” Gracie says with feeling. “How does she fit in? We need to talk about her before Sage wakes up.”

“Yes,” Lolana says. “Do you remember when Sage first mentioned her invisible friend?”

“We’ve been pretty distracted by the renovations,” Hudson says. “Sage was lonely and Roxie seemed harmless. Then suddenly it was Roxie this and Roxie that.”

“Sage couldn’t get enough of her,” Gracie says. “When we moved down the road for a week while they pulled out the kitchen, she had a meltdown about leaving Roxie.”

“Where did the name come from?” Lolana asks. “Was it after she started collecting rocks for the pond?”

“I don’t know,” Gracie says. “I didn’t know we had to pay attention. Sorry.”

Rhett chimes in. “Roxie was Rosemary’s nickname.”

Hudson frowns and snaps back. “Are you sure about that, Rhett? It was a long time ago. I think I’ll lose my mind if my daughter has been speaking to the spirit of my dead sister. It’s just her imagination.”

“Sorry, Hudson,” Rhett says, “it all came out at the inquest, and it’s something I won’t forget. Before the tragedy, Ralph used to laugh about your sister. Rosemary was a favourite with the builders, always playing with rocks, building walls and making ponds near the spring that fed the pool. The guys called her ‘the rocks girl’, then Roxie.”

A shiver runs through me. It’s what Sage said when she was under the pool house, but how does she know? Lolana hasn’t mentioned the pearl bracelet yet. If Sage found it, will its nameplate prove she used it to create her imaginary friend? I look across at Derek and catch him brushing down the hairs on his arms.

“You’re new to Hawaii,” Rhett continues, “but for us locals it’s pretty normal for a spirit to hang around after a tragedy. It doesn’t have to be creepy. Just ... unfinished.”

If something is keeping Roxie’s spirit here, could Sage still be in danger? Because something drew her under the pool house on the morning it was being demolished. What if those online rag-sheets are right about Roxie?

Lolana might be thinking the same thing. “Has Sage told you why she went under the pool house? And why she stayed for so long?”

Hudson’s mouth has set in a line so Gracie answers. “We didn’t want to ask her, Lolana. It was such a nightmare, we just wanted to forget it and move on. And now the pool house is gone.”

It explains their rush to remove it. They’re hoping Roxie has gone with it. And the bottle?

“Rhett is right that spirits can linger,” Lolana says, “but if there’s confusion about the origin of Roxie’s name then let’s not get distracted. What’s important is whether Sage’s relationship with the invisible Roxie is healthy. Her obsession and secrecy suggests it isn’t, and removing the pool house isn’t enough. With your help this afternoon, we can perform a little ceremony to farewell Roxie. It would be good if you can all join in.” She looks around the circle, getting agreement from everyone.

At that moment a young guy covered in dust lopes across the lawn. He’s carrying something in his hand. As he gets closer I recognise him as the one who chose Zorba’s Dance the other day. While the trucks have departed, he’s stayed behind.

On reaching our group, he lifts the bottle and gives it to Gracie. “Excuse me, Ms Cooper. Left it dusty like you said. Found it right under the building and not even cracked. The kid’s drawing we found in the kitchen and gave to Sage, we think that’s it rolled up inside.”

Gracie thanks him and passes it to Lolana. “You saved this just in time. It had a date with a dumpster.” She looks at Derek as if she blames him for retrieving it from the dumpster last time. “But now we know this drawing was done by Rosemary.”

Lolana makes eye-contact with me. “I think the history of the bottle may help us understand Sage’s recent behaviour.”

I lean over and murmur to Marisa, “I took the liberty of telling Lolana about the spell, and she made sure the bottle didn’t get lost in the rubble.”

Lolana passes it to Marisa, along with a paper napkin. “I didn’t want anyone to clean it before we examined it. Wipe it if you need to.”

Standing behind Marisa’s chair, I hold my breath as her shaking fingers touch the embossed letters of Sun Rise Soda Water. Then she turns the bottle over and wipes away the dust from the flat surface on the opposite side.

In the oblique afternoon light the pearly nail polish from sixty years ago is just visible.

Marisa’s sudden intake of breath makes everyone lean in.

Staring back at us is something we weren’t expecting. An eye. But beside it, another one. A pair. Did Sofia go for extra power by giving the bottle an identity?

“Tell us about Sofia’s spell,” Lolana says.