Heartache coated everything in the house that night, draping itself on the furniture and covering the walls. Lana felt it behind her ears and in every finger and every toe. She wasn’t the only one. Coco refused to let go of her mother’s note, reducing it to a crumpled mess.
As she washed out the pitcher, Lana thought about the lemonade. There was something to the honey; that she knew. She was still unsure exactly what. And she was fine with that. Not everything was meant to be understood. In fact a world where everything made sense would be dull and boring. Mystery unlocks the imagination, her father used to say.
Boy, was that the truth. There was the time Thomas Jaggar called Jack up to discuss his idea of an automobile that drove on land and sailed the seas. Others told him he was crazy, but Jack showed up at Volcano the next day. He and the boys in the machine shop worked furiously to modify a motorcar with a wooden hull and balloon tires. After months of experimentation, they named her Ohiki and announced her launching in Hilo Bay to all of Hawaii. And not only did she float, she chugged along at a whopping four miles per hour. Jack pranced around like a rooster for days after that.
Lana felt a soft spot for him. Being at the volcano had stirred up so many memories and so many emotions that she now realized she had tucked away and kept hidden, even from herself. A talent that didn’t serve her well, she was coming to see. But Jack was spilling out everywhere here, impossible to ignore. Maybe the message was to forgive him, and, more important, to forgive herself.
Bouts of thunder shook the house that night. Sailor left Lana’s mattress to seek shelter underneath Coco’s bed, which was where they found her in the morning. They had to lure her out with a hunk of steak.
Tuesday was even bleaker than Monday, with the addition of fog thicker than lemon rind. After breakfast of blackberry cobbler and scrambled eggs—the only way Coco would eat them—everyone milled about the house with nothing to do. Lana had purchased Bicycle cards and a deck of hanafuda from Kano Store, but was saving them as Christmas gifts. Today was December twenty-second; only three days to go. The thought made Lana want to crawl back into bed. But with a whole house depending on her, it was not an option.
Mochi, as always, was glued to the radio. The Japanese had invaded Luzon in the Philippines and were headed for Manila, and the US had expanded the draft to include all men ages eighteen to sixty-five. Closer by, citizens were debating an incident on Ni‘ihau and making a hot case for the local Japanese population not to be trusted. Many people were of the belief that if three people could be so easily persuaded to help a downed Japanese pilot, then what was to stop others?
When the kids went out onto the lanai, Mochi sat Lana down next to him. He placed his weathered hand over hers, the coarseness of his fisherman’s skin familiar. His watery eyes looked into hers. “I’m going to turn myself in, Lana. Me being here is endangering all of you, and the war has just started. I never should have left Hilo,” he said.
She stared at him in disbelief. “Mochi—”
“Never mind talking me out of it. It’s something I must do.”
His decision made sense, and she could tell he felt it was the honorable thing to do, but she was not happy about it. Especially in his frail condition.
“When? Where?”
“Tomorrow. Kīlauea Military Camp. It’s the closest.”
Anything that Mochi did, he did with much consideration. And while Lana respected his altruism, she selfishly wanted him with her, with the kids. He was her calm.
“I can take you,” she offered.
“Drop me at the main road. I’ll walk from there. I don’t want you tied up in this mess.”
“Grant wants nothing to do with me anymore...he pretty much said so. And I don’t care if people know,” she said, trying to sound convincing.
“Auwe, give him time. And don’t be stupid. Lying to protect the girls is one thing, but hiding a wanted man is something else. These kids need you here.”
Lana leaned into him. “The main thing is that you’re feeling better and that you stay that way. I hesitate to use the M word, but it does feel like one.”
“The M word?”
“Miracle.”
He nodded. “Nothing wrong with miracles. They are merely highly concentrated belief.”
“Now you’re sounding a bit like Coco.”
Lana thought of the force of her emotions toward Grant. How she believed in her heart that there was only one outcome—to be with him. So where was he now?
“We are all born with this ability, but most of us lose it. Few go through life believing in miracles.”
“My father spent his life chasing miracles. Did he not believe enough?”
“He did better than most. But there’s a fine line between want and need, and hope and trust. If we trust, we are given what we need, because we know that all things are possible.”
“Does that mean the Wagners will get out soon if Coco believes they will?” Lana asked.
“It means that Coco will receive what she needs. But here’s the catch—all life is interconnected, so you have to factor in what’s good for the whole. What you want may not be what the world needs at any given moment, and if that’s the case, your want may not happen. Better to step aside and allow.”
“Is that Shinto?” Lana asked.
He tapped his head. “No, it’s Mochi.”
“But look at us all right now—we’re a pretty sad lot,” she argued.
He smiled, showing all his teeth. “Depends on how you look at it.”
“What do you mean?”
“You can choose to either see everything as a miracle or nothing as a miracle. Maybe her parents will be released tomorrow, or maybe she stays with you for a while longer, here with the horses and the bees. Either way, you two have something to teach each other.”
A feeling of knowing rose up through her, like a column of smoke. She resolved to do her best no matter what life threw at them. The rain had let up for the moment, and the kids’ voices could no longer be heard. Voices that had grown around her heart like vines.
“You know what I worry about?” Lana said.
“What?”
“How my heart will break yet again when I have to give these girls up. I know it sounds selfish, but it’s true.”
He tapped her forehead. “Sounds to me like you need to get out of your head. Go outside...breathe some fresh air into those lungs.”
Remarkably, he smelled faintly of ocean. “Oh, Mochi. I’m going to miss you, too. Can’t you go after Christmas?”
“I have to go, Lana-san.”
She turned and looked into his ink-black eyes, her own eyes flickering with tears. “Well, I’ll put in a good word for you, if anyone will listen,” she said.
“Will you keep Benji?”
“You know I will. Have you told him?”
“Tonight.”
Lana circled around back, past the garden beds which were now mud bogs and would probably need to be replanted, beyond the honey hives and to the driveway. Her best guess was that the children had gone to visit the horses. Grant had left them some liniment in hopes that Coco would be able to get close enough to apply some.
For the first time since the camp visit, she was alone, which probably wasn’t a good thing. Grant’s parting words began to haunt her. Stabbing, sawing, cutting at her heartstrings. Nothing loses my interest quicker than someone lying to me. The cold coming off him had been palpable. She sensed a wound there. The sooner she could explain herself, the better. But what if he didn’t seek her out?
The toe of her boot caught between two rocks and she nearly toppled forward. Wake up! the ground seemed to be saying. It was strange; she looked around and almost wasn’t sure where she was. Almost at the barn, for the first time she noticed that no birds were singing. Was it too wet and dismal for birds, even? As she moved along the saturated earth, she worked out ways to approach Grant. How much time should she give him before marching into camp and demanding he listen. One day? One week? One lifetime?
Love finds a way. The words landed neatly in her brain as though dropped from the tree branch above. She went right back to her conversation with Mochi. If Grant was her man, things would fall into place. If not, they were never meant to be. Not that she would forget him anytime in the next decade, but one couldn’t force feelings.
The kids were nowhere to be found, and the horses were gathered under one tree. Lana filled their water and sat on the fence post watching them. They were experts at relaxation; she had to give them that. Standing around lazily, coats soaked. Two of them decided to show off and rolled around in the mud.
“You silly animals!” she called.
Without Grant, how would she train them? Damn him.
Late that afternoon, as a remedy for the blues, Lana dove headfirst into preparing Mochi’s last meal with them and making it special. She enlisted Coco and Marie to help, giving Mochi space to speak to Benji alone. Dinner would be garlic shoyu chicken, rice and chopped spinach—which Coco would bury under her napkin—and banana cream pie with flaky coconut topping.
An idea came to her. “How about this. Let’s try to think about all the things we are grateful for.”
Marie moaned. “Surely you’re kidding.”
Coco stared out the window, munching on a cracker. A mound of bananas sat in front of her. The note from her mother was set on the table under her glass, as if it might blow away.
Lana placed her hands on her hips. “I am two-hundred-percent serious. Times might be tough right now, but our only way through this is to remember what’s good in the world.”
“You go first, then,” Marie said.
Sweet as she may be, she was still a teenager, with a touch of sass now and then. Lana let it slide. “I am grateful for this roof over our heads, that we have enough to eat and that we finished the fence for the horses,” Lana said. “Do you want me to go on, because I could, or does one of you want to give it a shot?”
Coco came back from wherever she had been. “I am happy we get pie tonight.”
“Can’t you think of something better than that?” Marie said.
Coco stuck out her tongue.
Lana went to her defense. “Actually that’s perfect, Coco. Small things are just as good as big things, and often overlooked. Anything else?”
“That you came back from camp,” Coco added.
Lana offered up her own silent prayer of gratitude for that. They went back and forth for a while. Talking about all the simple and beautiful reasons to be thankful. Horses in the pasture, Mochi feeling stronger, Sailor, the secret room, no invasion as of yet, the forest full of birdsong, and, of course, Grant.
“When is Major Bailey coming back?” Coco asked.
Lana did not want to think about Major Bailey, let alone discuss him. “Sounds like they’re keeping him busy at work, so I have no idea.”
“Did you see him today?” Marie asked.
“Briefly.”
Coco started mashing the bananas as if her life depended on it. “If we write a letter to Mama and Papa, would he give it to them?”
“I’ll bet he would. You can each write one after dinner.”
They worked in silence for a while, until Benji and Mochi came in. From the red around Benji’s eyes, it was clear Mochi had told him he was leaving. Lana admired the way he maintained calm under such weighty burdens.
Lana realized an hour or so too late that there was no way around the sadness. They would just have to plow through it. The evening turned into a sorrowful, weepy affair. Every time Lana opened her mouth to say something, a sob escaped instead. Even the men were crying. Sailor watched from her spot in the middle of the floor, an alarmed look on her face. And the strange thing was—all that grieving in one place, it felt good for the soul.
In the morning Lana dragged her heels. No one wanted to admit that Mochi would no longer be sitting in front of the fireplace drinking tea with the radio turned up a notch too loud. Benji, who was usually a good sport, sat on the front porch, whipping pebbles at the Norfolk pine.
“If you hit the geese, I’ll punch you,” Coco warned him.
Mochi chuckled. “I like your spirit, little one. Can I get a hug before I go?”
For a moment Coco stood immobile. Hugging strangers and old people was akin to kissing boys. Distasteful and scary. But a second later she dove at him and burrowed in. Mochi shut his eyes. The sheer amount of anguish on his face split Lana’s heart down its seams, and if she hadn’t already shed every tear her body could produce, she would have been a bawling mess.
He hugged Marie next, then Lana. “Your father would be so proud of you,” he whispered into her hair. “Bringing us all up here and turning an escape house into a home. I promise I will be back.”
Those words meant everything to her.
“I know you will,” Lana said.
The whole gang insisted on riding in the truck to the main road. The skies were still blanketed with clouds, but the rain had ceased. With not enough room in the cab, Coco and Marie rode in the back with Sailor. Coco wanted to bring the geese, too, but Lana nixed that. Sailor, who especially enjoyed sitting under Mochi’s chair at mealtime, began howling as soon as they drove off.
“I never thought I would say this, but I sure am going to miss that creature,” Mochi said with a smile.
In the rearview mirror, Lana saw Coco leaning on Sailor, howling in unison. They bounced along the driveway, and when they reached the main road, Lana pulled off to the side. They all climbed out. Mochi had a small knapsack, to which she had added three tangerines and a jar of red honey.
“Make sure to eat your honey, and I’ll find a way to get more to you,” she said.
Benji stood off to the side, arms slack. He stared down at his feet. Mochi gave him a bear hug and ruffled his hair. “You’re the man of the place now. These ladies are all counting on you. Think you can handle it?”
Benji raised his eyes, looking at Lana and the girls as they all waited expectantly for an answer. Sailor was off sniffing for pigs.
He suddenly went straight as a fence post. “I’ll do my best.”
Before anyone could say another word, Mochi turned and began the slow march to camp. He’d worn a suit of Jack’s they’d found hanging in the closet. Lana had hemmed the pant legs, but they still dragged on the ground. Despite the suit hanging off him, Mochi gave it all an air of great dignity. Lana knew the stranglehold of this moment would follow her through her entire life.