Chapter Six

 

That first night, sleep did not come readily, despite my fatigue from the long trip and hours of manual labor. Even with my magically rapid recovery, I could still feel a tug in my side from the accident, aggravated with each pull of the rake. The rhythmic roll of the waves across the street and the pings of raindrops on the tin roof kept me up for hours. I tossed and turned, uneasy this close to Hydros’s realm. Eventually, I lulled myself to sleep with the small hope that Pele would have the answers I needed. I could cope with the nightmares of Hydros and the grueling work for the short time I stayed here with Lulu.

The next morning, I discovered Auntie Lulu did not intend to visit her sister by the volcano that day. My face fell with disappointment when she decided to have me clean her koi pond and rebuild its surrounding rock wall instead. I knew I shouldn’t complain since she graciously provided meals and a place for me to stay. But living with Lulu differed vastly from my time with Micah’s family in Pacifica. Back in California, Celia’s harried pace left me pressed for time while Micah’s cell phone practically dictated his every waking move. Yet here in Hilo, Auntie Lulu managed fine without those necessities.

Thoughts of how much I missed Sully filled my mind while I scooped huge handfuls of slimy water plants from the surface of the pond and dumped them in a pile on the ground. Occasionally, a fish broke the surface, its scaly white head decorated in striking splotches of orange and black. Despite the state of decay of the rest of the yard, the fish appeared healthy and well fed. Maybe Auntie Lulu devoted all her spare time to tending to her koi rather than maintaining her yard.

For several hours, I moved huge chunks of lava rock—some rounded from rolling in the sea’s crashing surf, others rough and abrasive, coming directly from the volcano. Even though I had eliminated the threat of Hydros, the constant sound of water bubbling and splashing in the pond still put my nerves on end.

By the time I finished rebuilding the retaining wall, dried slime and muck covered my arms, masking the dozens of scratches I’d acquired from lifting and setting the rough, porous rocks. I walked up the porch stairs, ready to clean off the grime in the shower, when Auntie Lulu met me at the door.

She pointed to the hedge, covered in unruly scarlet hibiscus flowers and leafy branches.

I looked down at my filthy arms and sighed, guessing my shower would have to wait. “I suppose you want me to trim that back a bit for you?”

“If you don’t mind,” she said in a tone that insinuated I had little choice in the matter.

“Do you have some hedge clippers I could use?”

“No, but you can pick up a pair at Lipoa’s Hardware in town.” She handed me a twenty-dollar bill. “Tell them I sent you.”

After running my arms under the outside spigot, I followed her directions into town to a small, local store whose sign on the front door boasted “Service with a Smile.” The store’s owners, a pair of brothers named Marvin and Gerard Lipoa, at first intimidated me with their bulky arms covered in patterned tattoos of geometric shapes and their thick black hair tied in long ponytails that stretched more than halfway down their backs. But true to their motto, they gladly helped me find everything I needed…with wide smiles that pushed up into their cheeks when I told them Lulu had sent me.

Marvin chuckled, a deep bass type of laugh. “You mean crazy Auntie Lulu?” he said in a heavily accented voice that rose and fell like a wave at sea. “Sure, we know her. She’s an old friend. Used to come here years ago, but we haven’t seen her in a while.”

I found the “crazy” adjective somewhat unsettling, but wasn’t surprised. With the state of her yard, I didn’t think she’d done an ounce of work since her last visit years before.

“See she’s putting you to work already,” Gerard said as he rang up my receipt and passed me the change. “Tell her we said ‘aloha.’”

I left the store with a new pair of hedge clippers and a sneaking suspicion that wouldn’t be my last trip to Lipoa’s Hardware.

The clippers sliced through the branches easily, but the repetitious motion strained my sore arms in ways I never imagined. By late afternoon, I finished trimming the hedge and worked up quite the appetite. When I entered the kitchen, Lulu sat at the table, her eyes trained on my every move. I grabbed two slices of bread, spread mayonnaise on each, and then layered ham and Swiss cheese in between.

“It’s done,” I announced, needing to justify my break.

“Excellent,” she replied, a small smile winding across her lips. She folded her hands across the table. “You know, I was thinking tomorrow you could repaint the lattice fence under the porch. It could really use a fresh coat of white.”

“Tomorrow?” I exclaimed and wheeled my head around. “But I thought…?” I forced myself to stop mid-sentence. I had no need to sound ungrateful, especially when I lacked other options for finding the goddess.

“What is it?” she asked, oblivious to my woes.

“Nothing. Forget it,” I muttered and grabbed my sandwich. I stormed out the door, needing space from Auntie Lulu and her broken promises. I began to think Marvin was right. Maybe Lulu was a bit crazy…or maybe she’d scammed me into doing all this work for free with no intention of taking me to see Pele.

I trudged down the porch stairs, my eyes at my feet. A small black lizard with striking yellow marks across its back leapt off a painted step into a nearby bush in an attempt at flight. I completely understood how it felt, hoping to fly away to freedom. Instead, I was stuck here with an endless list of chores, all in exchange for a chance to meet the fire goddess from my dreams.

I just didn’t get it. If Pele was so eager to contact me before—eager enough to heal Cam and me—why the hiding game now? Wouldn’t she come and find me here at Auntie Lulu’s?

My feet mindlessly led me across the street to the coarse black sand of the beach. Tiny chunks of volcanic rock covered the beach, broken down over time by the relentless pounding of the ocean’s waves. I settled onto the top of a picnic table with a weighty sigh and gazed across the ocean with no intention of placing a toe in the water. Fear still lingered in my mind, even in Hydros’s absence.

Suddenly, I got the funny feeling someone watched me. Heavy breathing carried through the air. Alarmed, I glanced downward toward the noise. A fairly large white dog sat beside the table. It panted eagerly, its eyes glued to my meal. A string of drool dangled out one side of its mouth.

I breathed easier at the sight of the friendly dog. “Why don’t you ask your owner for something to eat?” As soon as those words left my mouth, I noticed the animal’s bare neck. “Oh,” I said, feeling sorry for the stray. “You don’t have a home?”

The dog shook its head and sneezed. I couldn’t decide if that response counted for an answer or if the animal simply had sand in its nose.

“Neither do I,” I admitted with a deep sigh. “No one to talk to either. Except for you, I guess.”

The dog blinked, revealing fine white eyelashes along each lid. When it opened its dark brown eyes again, I detected a striking intelligence inside its gaze. Keeping my sandwich out of reach, I stretched one hand down to pet its head. “How is it you seem to understand everything I’m saying? I must be crazy to be sitting here talking to a dog.” Or lonely, I thought, missing Sully more than ever. I made a mental note to ask Lulu if I could borrow her phone to call him later that day.

When I raised the sandwich to my mouth for a bite, the dog’s eyes followed it with intense interest every inch of the way. “Or you’re just looking for food,” I observed, ripping off a section of crust and tossing it in front of the dog’s feet. “It’s okay. I don’t really like that part much anyway.”

The dog quickly gobbled it up and hungrily waited for more.

“Fine. Here you go,” I said and tossed another section of crust to the ground. “You know, if you don’t have an owner, I’ll bet you don’t have a name either. What do you think of Buddy?” I suggested.

The dog gave me a funny look, shaking its head as if rejecting the notion.

“Oh, you’re not a boy, right? Yeah, that probably won’t work. Well, do you like Girl?”

The dog’s mouth closed tight in disapproval.

“Nah,” I agreed. “Too generic. How ‘bout Molly or Martha or Lucy?”

Bored, the dog plopped down and began scratching behind her ear.

“You know, I’m sorry I don’t have a brush to clean you up. I bet under all that matted black sand, your fur must be pretty, as soft and white as snow. I wish I knew some Hawaiian words to give you a name fitting to the islands.” I tried to think of an appropriate name for the stray when my eyes caught the massive peak of Mauna Kea in the distance. I remembered reading in the airport’s welcome guides that Mauna Kea ranked as the tallest mountain on the planet if you measured it from the ocean floor to its top, and that in the winter months a layer of white snow generally capped the summit.

I turned back to the dog. “Do you like Mauna Kea?”

She gave a brief wag of her tail.

“You’re right. It’s too long and formal. So what about just Kea?”

The dog stood tall on all fours. Her tail happily swished side to side at the suggestion.

“Kea it is, then,” I declared and tossed her another scrap of bread.

While I shared my sandwich with Kea, my mind wandered back to Sully. If I asked Lulu to use her phone, she’d probably find another task to complete first. So why not just set off into town on my own? Even with my limited computer background, it couldn’t be too hard to find the library and contact Sully using the free online account he’d set up for me.

Kea gave a hungry whimper, so I tossed her the last scraps of my sandwich. She looked eager for more until I showed her my empty hands. “Sorry. All out. But you can tag along if you wish. Maybe we’ll find something else for you to eat.” And with the dog at my heels, I headed into town, eager to speak to Sully.

When I connected with him on the computer, he began with a simple, “How are things?” which I quickly spun into a litany of my current woes. I lamented about the lightning strike aboard the plane, having people think I was crazy to search for Pele, Auntie Lulu offering to bring me to the volcano and then changing her mind, and the chores…the endless list of chores. Only after our conversation ended did I regret my choice of words. I should’ve asked more questions about his new job.

I found Kea waiting outside when I left the library—probably looking for more food, I guessed. She followed me back to Lulu’s, so I dumped my worries on her. “I don’t know why I even bother telling you. You’re just a dog and can’t understand a word I say.” Still, it felt good to vent, even if that someone couldn’t reply.

My heart grew heavier when I neared Lulu’s home. Kea scooted off after a bird she spotted in the road, leaving me alone again. I ran up the steps and into the house, quickly finding Lulu at the kitchen table, reading the front-page headlines of the newspaper. “Can I borrow your phone?” I asked her anxiously. “I want to call one of my friends back in California.”

Lulu looked up from her paper and gave me a pointed look. “Is it a boy?”

My checks warmed. I mumbled, “Um…yes,” wondering why she had to be so direct.

She leaned back in her chair, interested. “Your boyfriend?”

“Not really,” I blurted in a defensive sort of way. My face flushed hotter, recalling our parting kiss in the airport, making me think I should amend my initial response. “Well, maybe,” I admitted bashfully.

Lulu shook her head, her mouth turning down in the corners. “I’m sorry, but I don’t carry long distance. Everyone I know lives here.”

“How about a laptop? An iPad? Or Wi-Fi?” I wondered aloud, thinking of other options.

Silent, she stared back with a blank look.

Okay, I take that as a no. I sighed. “I think I’ll head back to the library and try to get a hold of him right now.”

Lulu glanced at the clock. “You’ll never make it. The library closes in a couple of minutes.”

I flopped into the chair across from her and propped my cheeks on my hands. “Guess I’ll just have to go first thing in the morning,” I said dejectedly. I couldn’t believe how much I screwed things up—especially on my first overseas date.

Lulu left the table to escape my pity session, I assumed. A few minutes later, she returned with a tent and a rolled-up sleeping bag and dumped them on the floor by my feet. “We’ll go see Pele tomorrow,” she announced. “Early.” She turned, leaving me alone in the room.

I blinked, dumbfounded. I thought she’d made a new list of chores for me to complete tomorrow, beginning with the lattice fence. What had I said to make her suddenly change her mind?