17. ‘Ōlena
That Monday was supposed to be their first day in their new classroom at the community center.
Instead, the kids were out on the playground and ‘ōlena was glaring at the thick chain that someone had looped through the door handles on the community center. A heavy padlock secured it, locking them out.
It infuriated her to think of some peon driving down here to try and keep the locals out of their community center.
The ironic thing was that she still had her keys, which enabled her to slip in through a side door and grab the materials that she would need for the day: just some basic ingredients for elephant toothpaste and a bunch of plastic bottles that the kids had brought in.
“I don’t know if we should be here,” Lani said as she followed her inside.
“I’m just grabbing some supplies.”
“No, sorry. I mean Rory and me.” Despite Kekoa successfully serving Zeke with the temporary restraining order, Lani was still nervous and jumpy. This was the first day she had gone anywhere besides the Kealoha place or Tenn’s house. “I don’t know if we should be here today, at the park. Here in town. I feel exposed.”
“You can’t stop living your life,” ‘ōlena said as she moved boxes around in search of the one she needed. “There’s been no sign of him.”
“But he could drive by any minute. He could see us.”
“And then what?” She stood up and looked her cousin in the eye.
“What?”
“Say he’s here. Say he sees you. Then what happens?”
“I don’t know. That’s what scares me.”
“He wants you scared. Don’t let him win.” She turned back and kept searching until she found the box labeled Elephant Toothpaste. “There we go!”
She hefted the box and nudged another one, full of recycled bottles that kids had brought in from home.
“You grab that one, would you?”
Nate and Tenn stood chatting outside. Lani dropped the box she carried and ducked under Tenn’s arm; her nerves settled visibly as he put his arm around her.
“Mommy!” Kiki shouted when she spotted her.
‘ōlena set the box down and opened her arms to her girls. She hadn’t seen them since Saturday morning, which had been downlight painful. But she had made good use of that time to research all of the ins and outs of creating a nonprofit.
“Did you have a good weekend?” she asked them.
“We did bowling!” Kiki shouted.
“We even went on a boat,” Luana added. “It was so much fun!”
The comfort of knowing that her daughters were safe and happy when they were away from her outweighed the pain of being apart from them… if only barely.
Nate walked in their direction, and ‘ōlena straightened.
“Okay if I stick around today?” he asked.
“Sure. You can help the kids make elephant toothpaste.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ll show you, Daddy!” Luana said. “It’s so much fun.”
“The recipe is in the box,” ‘ōlena told him.
It was an easy science experiment that the parents could run, and a messy one that was best done outside. Between the playground, lunch, and a bit of chemistry, the kids were set for the day.
While the other parents took the reins, she would work on figuring out a way forward. If she needed to start a nonprofit to keep the community center open, that’s what she would do. Not just for the co-op, but for all of Pualena.
It wasn’t as if she planned to spend a whole lot of time inside of the building anyway; that would defeat the purpose of the playschool. She had created it to keep her girls out of cinderblock rooms, away from fluorescent lights and mind-numbing rules.
But it would be nice to have a place to spend their days when the rain was flying sideways. Walls where they could hang up their artwork, a roof to shelter long-term projects. Carting everything around and managing this growing community while bouncing from one spot to another was starting to wear on her.
“Thanks for running things today,” she said to Lani and Tenn. “I’ll be here if you need anything, but I’m going to be working on getting this nonprofit off the ground.”
“No worries,” Tenn said. “If there’s anything else we can do to help, just let us know.”
“Thanks.” ‘ōlena spotted Linda Rasmussen in the distance, and she walked across the lawn to meet her.
The weekly soup kitchen had no official leader, but Linda was the one who ‘ōlena saw there week after week without fail. She had been showing up for years, and she had been the first person to come to mind when she needed allies to save the community center.
“So you want to group them both under one nonprofit?” Linda asked once ‘ōlena had explained their situation.
“The nonprofit wouldn’t control the co-op; that would remain separate, in the hands of the parents. But the nonprofit would officially be in charge of New Horizons. Then any community-run groups, like my co-op and your soup kitchen, would be free to use the space.”
“And the nonprofit would assume liability so that the county can be hands off.”
“That’s the idea.”
“What does it take to start an official nonprofit?”
“Nothing too crazy. I just filled out some forms and registered it with the Department of Commerce and Consumer Affairs. I’ll have to register with the Hawai‘i Attorney General’s Office too, if we want to be able to solicit donations for the soup kitchen and such.”
“So what do you need from me?”
“Forms are one thing. Actually running a nonprofit is another. I’d like to start a board of directors. Among other things, I think it will help the county to take us more seriously and unchain the community center doors.”
“They what?” Linda exclaimed. She stood and turned to peer at the front doors of the community center. “Well if that doesn’t beat all…”
“So, will you help me?”
“I would be honored,” she replied, sitting down again. “I’m sure some of the other ladies who run the soup kitchen would be happy to join your board of directors as well.”
“That’s great. My mom agreed to help, and some parents from the co-op too. We’ve got a good group going, I think. I’ll get in touch with my contact at the Office of the County Clerk and ask when we can appear before the council to present our proposal.”
“I imagine that could take a while. Hawai’i and government both run on their own time. Put those two together and, well…”
“Yeah, it’s not a recipe for getting things done quickly. But it will all work out in the long run. We’re putting the community center back into the hands of the community.”
“That sounds good to me. We don’t have to stop running the soup kitchen in the meantime, do we?”
“Technically they’ve only told me that we can’t use the building. They haven’t said anything about the playground or the outdoor kitchen. It’s a public park, after all.”
“Well, hopefully nothing gets in the way of that. You know that in some cities, people have been fined and even arrested for handing out free food?”
‘ōlena shook her head. “That’s insane.”
“It’s a crazy world out there. We’re lucky we live in Hawai’i. It has its problems, of course. No place is perfect. But I think Pualena comes pretty darn close.”
The kids shrieked and ‘ōlena looked out across the lawn. Fountains of colored foam were erupting from a row of bottles that they had set up along the edge of the parking lot.
The kids giggled and chattered as the chemical reactions continued to spew out tubes of foam that looped and snaked across the sidewalk.
Back behind the crowd, Tenn stood with his arm around Lani’s shoulders.
Standing just behind their girls, Nate met her eyes across the lawn and smiled.
“Yeah,” she agreed. “It does.”