Ocean: The Awakening (12 page)

Chapter 22

Kimo’s adoptive mother had two cousins who worked at the Ellsworth Ranch. Since neither of them carried the name Pohaku, there’d been no problems in that regard—and besides, Old Man Ellsworth must know better than to ask too many questions about family ties, because so many people on the Wanaao side of the island were related, due to the large extended families.

One of his mother’s second cousins, Uki Mikaho, played guitar and sang in the hotel restaurant and lobby, and was a conduit of information about the comings and goings at the ranch. Uki had heard from another employee that Mr. Ellsworth had been extremely upset about his granddaughter’s date with Kimo.

This afternoon Kimo had arranged to meet Alicia at the Wanaao General Store during her lunch break, and he’d left his friend Billie in charge of the fruit stand to go there. Kimo had something very difficult to say to her, and it was tearing him up inside—but he had to do it.

Now he sat at a small bistro table near the front entrance, a good vantage to watch for anyone coming in, and—on other days when he was in a better mood—a good place from which to “tourist watch”, observing some of the foolish behavior of visitors to the island.

As he waited for her, he looked down the aisles of the store, and around at the walls. Merchandise was piled high on the shelves and hung on hooks on the few exposed wall spaces, with items filling every conceivable space from floor to ceiling. He heard the deep, thickly-accented voice of the store’s owner, an elderly Portuguese man, as he helped a customer.

Kimo worried about how to phrase what he had to say to Alicia, and carried the overriding, always-present worries about his father, who had slipped into a coma and was not expected to live much longer. Tiny was in the small hospital on the edge of town, watched over by Dr. Wilson, who was paying for everything himself as a favor to the much beloved man and his family.

In the background, Kimo heard a female clerk speaking to a tourist who wanted to know how to get to Lani Falls and the gravesite of a famous actress, who retired in the area and was buried in a church graveyard. The clerk spoke to him in pigeon English, and he was having trouble understanding her.

The sunburned tourist wore shorts, flip-flops, and a Hawaiian shirt. He had an oversized camera draped around his neck. Finally, exasperated, he said something rude to her and walked away.

Kimo shook his head. The clerk had been trying to help him, and he’d been condescending toward her. Though Kimo normally had a calm disposition, on occasion he admonished tourists, just as his mother did. He was tempted to follow the man outside and berate him, but just then he saw Alicia entering the store. She looked very attractive in a short-sleeve white blouse and dark skirt.

“Hi, Kimo. Do you want to order sandwiches?” She motioned toward the delicatessen counter.

He rose to his feet, felt very tense. “I’m not hungry. Could we just talk for a few minutes?”

Surprised, she said, “Sure, if that’s what you want.” She sat down across from him at the small table.

“I enjoyed our horseback ride,” he said, looking into her pretty blue eyes. “A lot.”

“So did I.” Alicia smiled sweetly, making him feel even worse about what he intended to do, what he
had
to do.

Kimo had been going over the words he would say, repeating them, trying to memorize a version that would express it the best. But there was no good way to do this, no good way to stop the feelings he already had for her, so he’d given up on trying to come up with just the right words.

“This is not easy for me to say,” he said, “but I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

She sat back, looking stunned. “Why? I thought we, I thought you –“

“It was good when we were together, I admit that. We only had one date, but it was very nice.” He looked away from her, knowing his own expression was pained. “I heard about how upset your grandfather was about us going out, and my mother had that argument with him at the town meeting. The Pohakus and the Ellsworths will never get along; the hatreds run too deep. I’m sorry to say this Alicia, because I really like you, but it would never work out between us. It’s my fault. I should never have gotten you involved in the mess between our families.”

“Our families are not the Hatfields and the McCoys,” she said. “We aren’t star-crossed lovers caught in a shooting war between archenemies.”

He didn’t know what the reference meant, or the names, and gave her a blank stare for a moment, waiting for her to explain.

Instead, she said, “My grandfather can’t tell me what to do in my personal life, can’t tell me who I can or cannot see. I told him I like you, and–“

He scowled, shook his head. “I’ve thought this over carefully—believe me, I have—and it won’t work between us. My father is gravely ill, and I have to be there for him, and for my mother. I don’t have time to be with you, Alicia. It’s not fair to you.”

“You don’t think we can wait for a better time?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so, Alicia. I have a lot on my mind, and this situation between our families is too complex for me to deal with now; it’s draining me emotionally. I just can’t handle it.”

“All right. I understand, but Kimo, I want you to know that if I owned the ranch, I would give it all back to the native Hawaiians, including your family.”

He smiled softly. “I appreciate that very much, but my father is lying in a coma right now, and I have to be with him.” He rose to his feet. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

She looked crestfallen. He hated the pain he saw on her face just before he turned and left.

***

Chapter 23

Though Alicia had not lived on the eastern shore of Loa’kai island for long, she’d already become familiar with some of the favorite spots where locals liked to go, places unknown to most tourists. Crimson Cove was one of them, a delightful, serene little bay that could only be accessed by small boat or by negotiating the narrow cliffside trail she was on now. Because of its comparatively calm waters it was not a suitable location for surfing, so she never took her board there.

She’d heard that Kimo often went to the cove alone to swim, and when he left the general store, she had watched him leave town and walk on a dirt road that led in this direction. When he was nearly out of sight she followed, and while she was on the road behind him she saw him turn onto the Crimson Cove trail.

Alicia remained a safe distance back, and he did not seem to notice her. His behavior had been strange in the store, and she thought he seemed distressed by what he’d done, and had been trying to conceal it from her. She was sure he’d not wanted to say those things, but he probably thought it was for her own good, to keep her from suffering in the midst of family squabbling and the emotional turmoil around the failing health of his father.

Kimo’s attempt to spare her was gallant (just as his earlier rescue of her had been), but she was stronger than he realized. Alicia had already been through the emotional rollercoaster of seeing her parents destroy their marriage and family with drugs and alcohol, so she was tough enough to face anything involving the Ellsworth and Pohaku families. She was not the spoiled, pampered
haole wahini
that Kimo seemed to think she was. Even though they had not known each other for long, she felt a strong attraction for him—and hoped he felt the same way toward her. After the shock of his words, she was resolved to find out.

On the cove trail, she heard the cinders crunching under her feet, making her worry about the noise. She saw him ahead, going in and out of the gnarled pine trees and other vegetation that clung to the sides of the trail and the steep hillside above, as the trail wound down toward the beach. Seeing him go onto a switchback section that turned back in her general direction (though at a lower elevation) she concealed herself behind a tree until it was safe to proceed.

She’d heard that the reclusive Jidhat Rahim lived in a cave somewhere around here, but at this time of day he was usually at his second haunt, the other seaside cave on her grandfather’s ranch, where he watched the water and rescued foolish swimmers who went beyond the safety zone of the lifeguards.

Ahead, she saw the crystalline blue waters and gently-lapping waves of the cove, and the reddish sand of the cinder beach. She and Kimo appeared to be the only ones here. It was a lovely romantic spot, but he didn’t know she was here and she didn’t want to reveal herself, at the risk of making him angry. At the store he’d said he was going to be with his father, but the old man lay in a coma and Ealani was probably with him. Kimo must be thinking he needed a little time for himself, and that was understandable. The beautiful, warm waters of Hawaii were restorative to a person’s soul.

He reached the bottom of the trail, where he removed his sandals and shirt, leaving them beside a small palm. Alicia saw the many tattoos on his body as he crossed the sand, reached the water and waded in. By the time he was immersed to his waist with his back to her, Alicia stood at the bottom of the trail. She saw a flurry of small yellow and red fish around him and two shark fins that gave her concern at first, until it became clear he was not being attacked. One of the sharks swam alongside him, with several smaller remora fish adhering to its sides, one of the odd relationships in the ocean in which less powerful animals hitched rides on predators, looking for scraps of food that might be left behind. Kimo petted the top of the shark’s head, then leaned close and said something to the animal. A large hawksbill turtle came up to him on the other side and paddled beside him as he swam into deeper water, with other creatures following close behind. She’d heard that he swam with the living things of the sea, but seeing this with her own eyes was startling.

And it made Kimo more interesting to her than ever.

Alicia sat on a piece of red lava that had tumbled down from above, and, removing her shoes, she rested her bare feet on the coarse sand. She did not know how to reach out to this special young man, and he was fleeing from her, maybe fleeing from the complications that would be attendant to any relationship with another human (especially an Ellsworth), and choosing instead the serenity and companionship of these creatures.

She wished she had a different last name, one that didn’t carry so much baggage with it around here. If only she was a simple girl from an ordinary family, he might fall completely in love with her—instead of the partial attachment that frightened him away.

I’m not a spider
, she thought.
I don’t want you in my web. I want you to be free, and I want you to love me.

The intensity of this thought caused her to examine her feelings even more. She knew love was a complex emotion, covering a wide range of feelings. She cared for the young Hawaiian man deeply, more than she’d ever felt for a boyfriend before. Alicia was not certain if she truly loved him yet, but she wanted to find out, wanted to give their relationship a chance.

It was all so difficult. She’d heard legends of lovelorn Hawaiians hurling themselves off high cliffs long ago, and now she understood how they must have felt. A tear ran down her cheek, and she wiped it away, vowing to be stronger than that.

She longed to go in the water with Kimo despite the sharks, but didn’t know if he could protect her from them, and even if he could, she didn’t want him to be upset with her.

Out in the cove, Kimo was swimming toward deeper water, with powerful arm strokes on the surface, like an Olympic athlete. She had to stand up to see him, because of the sea life thronging around him, but she got a clear view of him when he finally dove underwater. As he did so, all of his companions went with him, disappearing from view.

Seconds passed, followed by minutes, with no sign of him. Alicia began to panic. He was staying underwater for too long….

***

Chapter 24

As a reward for good behavior, a handful of the patients in the mental hospital were permitted, every once in a while, to eat in an area called the Tea Room. On the top level of the building, it was an enclosed conservatory with large potted plants and greenhouse windows that looked out on the quaint English village of Apperton and the seashore beyond. Normally Gwyneth liked the conservatory, because of the greenery and light it offered, but this afternoon the sky was dark and low-hanging, quite a change from the sunshine of that morning. Snow had just begun to fall, but was not sticking to the pavement or rooftops yet.

She also liked the room because she could see the ocean more clearly from here, and the merchant ships that sailed past—even an occasional pod of sperm whales out there, which gave her some comfort. She had always liked whales, felt a special affinity for the creatures, and knew a great deal about them. If she could only get into the water they would come and greet her; she was sure of it. But anywhere near this mental hospital, she was likely to be recaptured and locked up again.

The strange word kept coming to her, at varying times:
moanna … moanna …
Sometimes it seemed to reach her on a whispering susurration of sound, just as she was falling asleep. Other times it seemed associated with the flow of new information into her brain. And sometimes she thought of it when she gazed at the ocean and her mind was the most relaxed, when the whispering seemed to travel on a breeze over the water. She sensed that moanna was a conscious entity, perhaps a person, perhaps something else.

The name had a calming effect on her; was something she wanted to know more about. But in all of the vast quantity of information about the ocean that had been flowing into her brain for months, there were no explanations.

Gwyneth wished she was aboard one of the ships visible from her room, sailing away from this horrible place, never to return. Then, in a warmer climate far from England, she would disembark and swim in the sea, immersing herself in the warm, welcoming water. It would heal her, and she would heal it. The whales would be with her there, and she would be with them.

The thought of running away to sea had a glamorous, myth-like allure for some people, and for no one more than her. She continued to be observant, always looking for opportunities to escape.

The Tea Room might actually be her best option, because there was only one male attendant watching the tables (a blocky man in a gray uniform), and sometimes he went in and out of the adjacent kitchen and corridor. From her chair, Gwyneth could see an emergency exit in the greenhouse structure, a doorway that led to a fire escape and exited onto the street five floors down. If she could find a way to disable the alarm on the door, she might get away.

Today, instead of getting her own food in the cafeteria downstairs she would be served English tea, gourmet sandwiches, and fancy little cakes. Like her, four other patients (inmates, to her) sat at small individual tables, and every one of them had already been served except her, since she was the latest arrival. Every table had a tiered cake and sandwich holder in the center, along with a stainless steel tea service, white plastic spoons, and lacy paper napkins. Not as fancy as she recalled her family serving in Portsmouth, but a treat nonetheless.

Gwyneth was surprised to see Beavan DeLorean among the other privileged inmates, because she’d heard he was unstable and disruptive. The large, cherubic-faced young man sat at the table nearest her, and as he’d done before, he smiled in her direction. Feeling a little frightened of him, she smiled back tentatively, just a small offering to be polite, without encouraging him too much.

“Hello, Gwyneth,” he said in a low voice, leaning over toward her. “How is your escape plan going?”

She shot him a startled glare, because she’d never said anything about that to him. Then she shook her head and looked away from him. The attendant was beyond earshot, standing by the swinging door that led into the kitchen, and didn’t seem to notice Beavan talking to her, or care.

“This Tea Room is a trap for the unwary,” Beavan said. “I am very observant, a
great
observer, in fact—and I might be able to help you get out of here.”

Not trusting him, she glared at him again, harder this time.

Finally, Beavan shrugged and ate one of his cakes.

Now, as Gwyneth waited to be served, she tried to think of why he would say such things to her. Had he noticed her looking for ways to get free, such as her lingering gaze on the emergency escape door and fire escape ladder? If he had figured out her intentions, others might as well. And if attendants did notice, the ramifications were likely to be more severe than not letting her come up here for tea any longer.

A nurse in a white dress emerged from the kitchen, carrying a small tray of cakes and a dented metal pot of tea. “How are you today?” she inquired, as she served Gwyneth.

The introverted girl just smiled, didn’t try to mouth any of the words that were backed up in her mind and throat. Since days ago, when Dr. Halberton put a tablet of paper and a pencil in front of her and asked to draw images of her thoughts, she had not written anything or spoken at all. The doctor had tried to draw her out several times, and had finally given up the effort. “That’s all right,” he’d said to her that morning, as he took back the tablet and pencil. “We won’t do this again for a while, okay?”

Gwyneth had not given him any gesture. She’d just retreated inward.

She had wanted to reveal more about her ocean calculations to the gentle doctor, a little bit at a time, to see if she could trust him. But after providing him with a few very vague details, she’d found herself unable to go further. She didn’t understand why, except to surmise that the mysterious higher power who had been providing her with raw ocean data did not want her to proceed. Either that, or her subconscious mind was holding her back. Either way, the result was the same, and she took it very seriously.

Feeling a sacred duty, Gwyneth McDevitt had to find a way to maximize the exposure of the important calculations she’d been making, and her prediction that the seas would become dead zones that were devoid of oxygen and marine microbes that were essential to the food chain, and the dire consequences this had for most life forms on the planet, wherever they were. That had been her intent in letting out little bits of information to Dr. Halberton, but her effort had hit a wall.

Now she could see only one option that would enable her to reach a larger audience and get experts involved in reversing the damage that had already been done to the ocean. Damage that made her increasingly angry, the more she thought about it.

She needed to escape from this horrible place and do something about what she knew. There must be some way to free herself on her own.…

***