Haole Wood (29 page)

“Stop that,” Lana pushed my hands down. “The hibiscus is Hawaii’s state flower. Maui’s flower is the pink Lokelani. It’s a heavenly rose. We’re the only island to have a non-native flower. They were probably brought here in the 1800s by missionary women.” She stopped her lecture and smiled. “They’re not that common.” Lana crossed to the side table near the couch and caressed the pink blooms gathered in an old-fashioned looking turquoise colored vase. She leaned over and sniffed.

“Can you smell them? I was Mike’s Lokelani. Do you understand? My name’s Lana. He loved that nickname for me because he said I had thorns.” She smiled again and pulled out a stem and wagged it at me. “If the clue they found turns out to be a rose petal, and I’m not saying it is, I just couldn’t take the chance of you telling Lois about Mike saying some flowers have thorns. It doesn’t take a genius to make the leap to Lokelani. Not that it would matter much. He was the only one who knew that I tucked a rose in my lei or my hair for good luck when I perform.” She touched the flower to her cheek. “I’m just being careful.”

I couldn’t believe what was happening. “Lana.” I could barely whisper. “Please don’t kill me. I won’t say anything.”

Lana looked down at me and smiled at that. “I know, honey. Because you’ll be dead.”

Keeping my eyes open was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. It was so tempting to just rest them for a second. “Why did you do it?” I tried to focus, wanting to keep Lana talking. If I could keep myself awake maybe I could try to figure out how to save my life.

“I didn’t mean to kill him. I just wanted to scare him and let him know how well I could take care of him. I thought he’d have to turn to me when he got sick, and then be so grateful. He was always looking for a mommy. But,” she shrugged her shoulders, “I guess I got the dosage wrong. It was an accident. You don’t have any idea how sad I am.”

My body seized up. I could barely move. I stared in horror at Lana, who was as beautiful and unsweaty as ever, watching me die. The scream I hurled could be heard only inside my head.

“It’s a pity, though,” Lana said. “I do like you. I’ll miss you.”

My eyes darted around the room, frantically looking for my guardian angel. I expected to see him on my deathbed, at the very least, so I could say goodbye. I accepted that he helped me as much as he could. I guess he did know how it all turned out.

I finally smelled his warm, milky comforting smell. I tried to smile and then all of a sudden the smell changed, to a vile, putrid odor. It was the loathsome scent of my guardian angel’s friend, which he once visited upon me to teach me a lesson. The rotted miasma smothered my breath as it filled my sinus cavity. The awful stench of the fumes were strangling as saliva squirted inside my mouth. I gagged, then retched, then vomited all over Lana’s pretty couch and sisal rug.

That’ll never come out, I remembered thinking, seeing my masticated scrambled eggs with ketchup that I had eaten before hula class.

“What are you doing?” Lana jumped up to avoid my splatters of spew. I heaved until there was nothing left. I was so weak but I managed to push myself up to a sitting position. My cell phone was in my back pocket but my pants were so tight I knew I didn’t have the energy to retrieve it. I shifted, feeling the phone under my hip. Nobody knows where I am. I tried to think, but Lana had other plans.

She stepped over the mess of vomit, furious, her lovely face twisted into a grotesque mask of hatred. She pushed me back onto the couch. “You bitch,” she shouted at me. “Look what you did.”

“Lana. You’re trying to kill me and you’re pissed I threw up on your couch?” I spit on her floor. I wanted to empty my mouth of the poisonous bile taste, but I also wanted to show her what I thought of her. I lay twisted on my side, trying to keep my face out of the mess and push Lana back. “Get off. Let me up.”

“No. You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to take your medicine like a good girl.” Lana reached for my cup, which was a little less than half full.

I may not be a hula girl, but I have strong legs. Using what felt like my last ounce of strength, I pulled my knees up to my chest and put my feet on Lana’s taut, smooth brown stomach. I pushed as hard as I could. I don’t know who was yelling louder, me with the effort to leg press Lana, or Lana, as she was thrust backward over her shabby-chic coffee table and crashed onto her polished bamboo floor.

“Help!” I called as loudly as I could, which didn’t feel very loud at all. Maybe her neighbors had heard me.

“No one can hear you.” Lana said. “My place is very private back here. My neighbors will make a great alibi, and I’m sure they’ll stop by later to check on me.” She got to her feet and rubbed her back. I watched her pick up a large antique book on the history of Maui. Lana caught my eye reading the title. “Too bad you won’t have time to read it sometime, it’s fascinating. My granny was descended from the
kahuna
of Moloka’i. They were the experts in compounding medicines, but they specialized in poisonous potions.”

Lana’s beautiful brown eyes sparkled as if she were singing a love song. I tried to swallow but my mouth was too dry. Lana raised the book high over her head, ready to smash me to smithereens. My own hands fluttered up over my head, grasping air. My flailing hands landed in the warm velvety petals of the pink roses, Lokelani, I remembered as the flowers toppled to the floor. My fingers closed on a cool, spiny bowl or dish. No. It was the conch shell. I smelled a warm, milky smell and took strength from the gush of hope. I grabbed the shell, my right hand sliding right into its mouth, a perfect handle for my weapon. I turn my shoulder as Lana heaved the heavy tome at my head and then swung the shell with all my strength into Lana’s soft fluffy black wavy hair. Lana went down with a thud.

I was a wreck. My legs wobbled so I could barely support my weight. I stood up, holding onto the side of the couch. I tried to step over Lana. I had to get out. My right leg reached for my next step, stretching for the floor. Reaching solid ground, I lifted my back leg to join its rubbery mate. I took a deep breath to stand straight. Before I could take another step, Lana’s hand grabbed my ankle in a death grip. I kicked and kicked, unable to break free.

“Let me go.”

Lana now had both of her hands around my leg. She was so strong. I clung to the pink side chair with all my might. I fought to stay upright. I twisted my ankle every which way. I went slack for a moment to catch my breath, and then kicked my heel, feeling a satisfying thud as it make contact with Lana’s nose. I slipped my foot free from her grasp and headed for the door. One step, two steps, almost there. I wiped away the black squiggles swimming before my eyes. I inhaled, begging my body to stay with me, knowing that if I didn’t get out right then, Lana would make sure it was the end.

The fact that my guardian angel was on my side made my eyes tear, but also ignited a spark. My knees buckled. I sank to the floor. The poison, or sedative in the tea still had hold of me. I shook my head to rattle my brain cells. I crawled on my hands and knees. My fingers inched to the front door. Two more feet and I’d be free. My hanging head caught a glimpse of Lana, lying still on the floor by the couch, her face smeared with blood. I reached up my right hand for the door handle. I made it.

My slippery hand turned the knob when Lana jerked my hair back so hard I heard my neck snap. Lana shoved me flat on my back and straddled me. “Please stop,” I whimpered.

Lana wiped blood off her face with the back of her hand. “This won’t hurt a bit,” she said. “If you just trust me, you won’t feel a thing.” Her gorgeous tapered fingers, smeared with blood and probably some of my own vomit, embraced my neck. I pulled at Lana’s wrists. Lana wrapped the tasseled cord from her creamy silk shantung curtains around my arms.

I jerked my right hand free and managed to shimmy it under my back. I dug for my cell phone as if my life depended on it. I took a deep breath and rolled, bucking hard to fling Lana off of my body. I tried to activate the screen on my phone as my thumb skimmed numbers. Lana grabbed it and threw it across the room. I watched my last hope slide under the dining room table.

“Nice try,” Lana said. She pulled my arms together in front of me and wrapped the cord tightly around my wrists. She scooted her heavy white ottoman, tilted it to one side and placed it over my body, pinning me to the floor. She sat on top of it, imprisoning me.

“Whew. You’re strong. You had me worried there for a moment,” Lana said, looking like she wanted me to congratulate her or something. “Not too comfortable, are you?”

My trussed arms prickled with tension and ached to move under the pressure of the bench. My stomach and hips were immobilized, effectively paralyzing my lower legs.

“I can’t let you out of here to tell people I killed Mike.” She shook her head, tsk tsk.

I wanted to taste and feel every second I had left, and anything Lana wanted to tell me would take that much more time.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m sure he didn’t feel a thing,” she said.

“You’re so kind,” I whispered. “Lana. You don’t have to do this. You made a mistake with Mike, fine. Don’t kill me on top of it. The police will believe you. I’m sure it was just an accident. But no one will believe you if you kill me.”

“You’re so sweet to worry about me,” said my good friend, actually reaching down to brush a stand of hair off my face. “They’ll think it was your grandmother’s fault. You have to admit, she is a little
lolo.
She’s lived a good long life. Now, just relax. Haven’t you ever wanted to end it all?”

I shook my head. “Not like this,” I whispered. “Not even in my darkest days.”

“Sh,” Lana crooned. “This will be
naniloa,
most beautiful.” She lowered her voice. “It’s like going to sleep. Just let go.” She reached for my teacup and knelt on the floor near my head. As the cup neared my mouth I head butted the cup away.

“Please cooperate,” Lana said. She pulled out a small brown vial from a folded pocket in her sarong-style pants that she had worn to Hula class. I watched as she unscrewed the bottle with her right hand, her thumb working the black-ridged cap. She leaned her left forearm over my chest and grabbed my chin with her right hand. The black cap fell from the bottle and I watched it arc to the floor. I clamped my lips and gritted my teeth.

“Open wide,” Lana sang. She plugged my nose.

“Oof.” My mouth opened in a gasp. Lana began to pour the liquid. A drop headed for the crevice between my lips. I twisted my head and shut my eyes and tried to remember the one best thing about my life. But there were too many memories overlapping each other. I saw Jac’s face and his amazing wave-blue eyes that looked at me with something that I wanted to stick around and figure out. I saw my grandmother’s rare smile, the moonrise in Maui, my mom ripping off a piece of duct tape to make the world a better place, and my dad, not saying a word but waiting for me to need him. I saw my guardian angel licking the lid of a ketchup bottle, I smelled warm milk, and I felt the gauzy silk of my sunshmina and the way it fluttered on my shoulders. I even saw Shayna’s angst-ridden half-girl/half-woman face screwed up in a teenage temper tantrum.

Of all those life important images, that never seemed that significant at the time, the most vivid was of Shayna. I could practically hear her call my name.

“Jaswinder.”

It really was Shayna. Through scrunched eyes, I watched Shayna launch herself through Lana’s back patio screen door. Her arms and legs were a blur of fury as she pummeled Lana. I couldn’t let Shayna get hurt. I thrashed and jerked and kicked the ottoman off of me. I spun on the floor and reached my feet toward Lana, who fought wildly. I got my hands up to Lana’s head. Even though my arms were still tied up, I grabbed her hair with both of my hands and twisted, just like Lois twisted her napkins.

I pushed her face into the hard bamboo floor and sat on top of her. “Watch her hand, Shayna,” I called out. “We have to tie her up.”

“Here, quick.” Shayna knelt by my side and pulled Lana’s arms behind her back. Using Lana’s sunshmina, Shayna wound it round and round, tying it in a tight double knot. Lana’s feet still kicked.

I used the last of my energy to fling myself on top of Lana’s legs. “Untie me, Shayna.” She pulled the cords and finally got my nearly numb arms free. We put the ottoman on top of Lana and we both sat on it. I put my arms around Shayna and rocked her back and forth. Lana’s screams drowned out our heavy breathing.

“I can’t believe Lana killed Mike, and then tried to kill you,” Jac said for the millionth time. He couldn’t seem to get enough of touching me. He stroked my hair and rubbed my back.

“Ah, right there.” I was pretty sore, but felt great. We were in my grandmother’s living room, the day after what I would always refer to as the day my fear turtle finally died.

“I can’t believe it, either. I mean, just look at Lana. She had everything I always thought I wanted. She is gorgeous, talented, likes to exercise, has a living room to die for . . .”

“Really?” Shayna, sitting in one of the club chairs interrupted me. “You almost did die in her living room. Enough with the girl crush. You’re kind of creeping me out.”

“I love you, Shayna. You’re my new crush.”

Shayna glowered at me. I loved it. I took a sip of the steaming latte Jac brought over, and felt all was well with my world. I don’t know how long this elevated feeling was going to last, but I wanted to appreciate every second.

“My mom is home, showering, again, and probably cleaning the house, again, too,” Shayna said. “But she said to tell you she’ll be back to work at Haole Wood tomorrow.” Shayna shook her head and crossed her arms. “I’ve never seen her this happy. She won’t stop singing.”

I nodded and squeezed Jac’s hand. “I can’t wait to see Lois again. It will be so good to have her back. And, Shayna, I cannot thank you enough. You saved my life.”

“You said that. A lot,” Shayna said, not able to completely hide her smile. “I was so pissed at you, I almost didn’t answer my cell phone when I saw you were calling yesterday.”