Chapter 21 #2
“But there were more, in the cabinet. She might have forgotten to put them back after the last time she used them. Mom used to forget stuff all the time.”
Tutu narrowed her eyes at Koa. “So you think Mia, the pretty girl who works with elementary school kids, takes prescription drugs?”
The kids. Koa hadn’t even thought about them. He’d been so consumed by Tutu’s stroke and his grief.
K.J.
“I have to tell the school.” Koa stood.
“Sit down!” Tutu demanded, and Koa didn’t even think, he just sat.
“You not goin’ do that. Think, Koa. You still hurting from your mom. I know. Then there was that girl.”
Tutu always called Talia that girl.
“Your heart was hurt. Over and over again. I tried for protect you, but you still felt so much. You saw too much for one little kid.”
Koa leaned back in his chair, the power of Tutu’s words tipping him back.
It was too much. He was feeling too much.
The ripping pain from each step of his mother’s abandonment.
It didn’t happen overnight. In some ways, that might have been better.
But she walked away over and over again.
Proved that the drugs meant more than he and his brother ever could.
His logical mind knew it was addiction. She didn’t choose the drugs, not anymore. But his heart didn’t care about the difference.
Koa wiped under his eyes, tears hot against his cheeks. Anger warred with hurt.
“When did you find da bottles, Koa?” Tutu asked as if she already knew the answer to the question.
“The day after that first night in the hospital,” Koa said quietly, biting back the sobs that threatened.
“That night your mom was here?” Tutu asked.
Koa nodded.
“Lana told me about that night. Mia stood up for you against your mother.”
Koa’s eyes burned as he pushed down. Pushed everything down.
“I’m sure she wasn’t happy,” said Tutu.
No, mom hadn’t been. But happiness wasn’t a quality he associated with his mom.
“And she left before you all came in here.”
To get a fix, Koa was sure. If Mia didn’t get help…Koa knew he was right in stepping away. He couldn’t watch her get to that point. Where she chose the drugs over him.
“Koa, who could get prescription drug bottles? Who had been embarrassed in front of her family by Mia?”
Koa’s body went cold. She wouldn’t.
“We took away her key.” Koa felt as if there was a hand squeezing his heart.
“Breaking and entering our home isn’t hard for one pro like your maddah.”
Koa blinked, remembering the charges brought against her many years before. It had been a convenience store with an attached pharmacy, but his mom had gotten in. She’d been arrested hours later due to security cameras, but she’d gotten in and out. A house would be easy by comparison.
“She didn’t know I’d be home first. That I’d see the pills.”
“Maybe it was a chance she took. Or maybe she still knows you well enough to know you wouldn’t have let Mia go all the way home when you could do it instead.”
Numbness took over.
What had he done?
Tutu’s version of events made so much more sense.
But was this just him being hopeful? What if Mia had blinded them all?
Koa knew it made more sense for him to have been wrong. He wanted to be wrong.
But he was still too scared that he was right.
“You need to talk to her,” Tutu said.
Koa was shaking his head before he could truly process what Tutu had said. But he couldn’t talk to Mia. He couldn’t see her face.
“She should know what you think. If you don’t tell her, I’m sure that friend of hers will tell her anyway. Mia also has the right to say her piece.”
“But what if she lies?” Koa didn’t voice the real question. What if he believes her?
“Koa. Stop. Think. Use that big brain of yours and really think.”
Koa didn’t know if he could. He’d been running around, moving too fast, focusing on Tutu in order to avoid what Tutu was asking of him.
Koa drew in a deep breath.
The pill bottles appeared out of what seemed to be thin air right after Mia confronted his mom.
His mom who surely had lots of pill bottles.
Mia showed no signs of using. She didn’t even flinch when he’d mentioned during their date about how much he hated drugs.
She’d seemed to have agreed with him. According to Natalie, she didn’t even overuse over-the-counter pills.
But he couldn’t know anything!
That meant he had to trust.
Trust. Koa didn’t even know if he had any of it left to give.
“You never been one man to let fear drive you. You run into giant waves, burning buildings. You play wit fire, Koa.”
But none of that scared him. Not really. The sacrifice of saving someone or being good entertainment was always worth the risk.
And that’s what it came down to, didn’t it? Was the sacrifice worth the risk?
His heart still ached for Mia. He missed her so much it was palpable.
He scrubbed his hands over his face. He was so tired.
His chest constricted. He wanted to trust again. It was human nature to trust. He’d been fighting against that part of him for so long, a war being waged in his soul, that he no longer even noticed it.
But it had been happening. And it was wearing on him.
Could he do it? Could he talk to Mia? Could he let go of that war and decide to trust?
His eyes stung with yet more tears.
“Why would she even listen to me? If I’m wrong? What I said to her was inexcusable. I wouldn’t give me another chance.”
“Then let’s hope she’s better than you are.”
Koa nodded. He already knew that was the case.
But…how could he have been so wrong?
What had he done?
Koa shook his head, the reality of what if sinking in. What if those pills weren’t hers? He’d kicked her out of the hospital. Refused to let her sit with Tutu. He’d texted her the end of their relationship. Hadn’t done anything when he saw she’d moved out. He’d left her high and dry.
But what if you weren’t wrong?
Either way, Koa was going to speak to Mia. He knew it was right. He’d been a coward not to do so already. But before he faced Mia, he needed to confront someone else. Because if she had done what Tutu thought she had?
Koa would have been so wrong in his treatment of Mia.
Shame filled him at just the thought of what he might have done. If Tutu was right, he’d beg Mia for forgiveness. But even after apologizing, he doubted Mia could find it in her heart to forgive him. He doubted he could forgive himself.
Yet, he still had to try.
The last Koa had heard, his mom lived in an apartment in Happy Valley, the fallaciously named part of Kahului where much of the island’s low-income housing was located. After a few text exchanges, he found out that she was still there and exactly which apartment she resided in.
Koa walked through the narrow dark halls, the stench of oil, too many bodies, and smoke filling the air while a baby cried in the background.
No child should have to live in this. Koa would have had his childhood right here had it not been for Tutu.
212.
Koa stared at the number, knowing it was the right one yet not quite being able to lift his arm to knock.
Would his mom be home? Would she be wasted? If she was lucid, would she tell him the truth? Who did she live with?
Coming face to face with his mom’s demons was one of Koa’s biggest nightmares.
Mia.
Koa knocked.
“No one’s home!” a gruff voice called out.
Koa knocked again.
“Get away from my door!” the voice yelled even louder.
“It’s Koa,” Koa yelled back, even though he was unsure of who was on the other side of the door. If his mom was there, she’d let him in.
Probably.
Maybe.
Koa waited for the gruff voice to yell once more, but all was silent. A minute passed. Koa waited.
Then another. Koa shifted.
This meant his mom was there, didn’t it? Why else wouldn’t the person have yelled again? But if she was there, why wasn’t she opening the door.
Finally, light footsteps sounded. Even through the door, Koa knew that tread.
The door cracked open.
“You’ve never come here,” his mom accused through the slit she’d opened, only one of her eyes visible to Koa.
“I’ve never had reason to.” Koa was honest. Maybe too honest, considering he’d come for answers.
She opened the door a bit more but didn’t let Koa see beyond her. Koa was sure that was for the best. He didn’t want to see the squalor his mother lived in. Who she lived in that squalor with.
“Why are you here, Koa?”
“Tutu’s doing better,” Koa said, trying to offer an olive branch.
“I know. Kahiau texted me like a week ago.”
So she was lucid. At least as lucid as his mom got. And she was mad. At him. Because his brother was the better son.
“I would say I’m sorry, but we’d both know that’s a lie,” Koa said, again too honestly.
Koa didn’t know why Kahiau could have a relationship with their mother and Koa couldn’t.
He knew it caused strain on Kahiau’s marriage and yet still he tried.
Koa had no one in his life to care one way or the other, yet he still chose not to see or speak to his mom.
His mom had done the same thing to both of them.
Should Koa be more forgiving? Should Kahiau be less?
“She’s coming home today.” Koa wasn’t ready to ask the question he needed to. He’d spent the last hour since speaking to Tutu considering how he’d confront his mom. Head on? Indirectly? Discreetly?
He still hadn’t made up his mind, but it was time.
“Good for her. Now you all can be that happy family again without me.”
Koa shook his head as he scoffed. “Really mom? You want to play the victim? Let’s not forget who made this bed we’re all having to lie in.”
“I wanted to keep you kids! She’s the one who took you guys away.”
“And what? Have us live here?”
“Because you’re too good for Happy Valley.” His mom rolled her eyes.
“No, because we were safe, healthy, and cared for at Tutu’s. Could you say the same would have happened for us here? Tell me mom, if you had the choice—drugs or me—which would you choose?”
Koa was so angry, the words came out easily, but he instantly regretted them. It was one thing to be pretty sure of his mom’s choice. Once she answered there would be no going back. He’d know.
“I didn’t come here to fight, Mom,” Koa said before his mom could answer. Before she could shatter what little was left of his childhood heart.
“Then don’t fight,” was her response. No apology. No responsibility taken.
She looked beside and behind him. “Where’s that girl of yours? She do something unforgivable?” His mom smiled smugly.
“Why would you think because she’s not here there’s any trouble between us? Maybe I just didn’t want to bring her to Happy Valley,” Koa said and suddenly the way to the truth was clear.
“So there isn’t any trouble between you?”
Koa ignored the question, knowing it would infuriate his mom.
“Do you have enough food?” Koa asked.
“It’s my job to take care of you, not the other way around! Of course I have food. Where’s the girl?”
Koa ignored her once more.
“What kind of food?”
“Koa!” There was no warning, just an explosion of his name. “So you just forgave her?! You can’t forgive me, your mother, but you can forgive some girl who just walked into your life?”
Bingo.
She knew. And if his mother knew about the pills, she had to have put them there.
There was no other way. Kahiau and Lana knew nothing other than Mia had moved out.
Tutu wouldn’t have said anything. His mom had no information source other than that primary resource, the fact that she’d set Mia up.
Had she waited and watched as Koa found the pills? Had she still been in the house?
It was the only thing that made sense, because she’d have to retrieve the pills before Mia came home to move out.
His mom had planned the whole thing. She’d purposely ruined the budding of something beautiful with Mia. Why?
“Do you hate me, Mom?”
His mom stepped back, but that was the only indication she’d heard his question. “I asked you a question, son. You will answer me.”
“Only after you answer me.” Koa stood tall. He wasn’t a little boy desperate for the love of his mother.
He was a grown man, realizing his mother didn’t have the capacity to love him or anyone else.
Both were heartbreaking.
“Just go away,” his mom said slamming the door in Koa’s face.
Koa stared at the 212.
And that was that.
His mom was done. And he was done with his mom.
He’d gotten what he came for. He needed to walk away. Yet his feet wouldn’t move.
Koa lifted his hand and pressed it against the door. He thought he’d grown out of his pain. That his mom couldn’t hurt him anymore.
But he realized he was still hurting, every day. Growing up didn’t change that. It only helped to mask it.
Koa had scars, some so deep they hadn’t even started to heal. His mom had never physically hurt him and yet the pain was unbearable.
He dropped his hand.
It was time to go. It didn’t matter what Koa did, his mom would never be there. Even for Kahiau who’d forgiven her and let her back into his life, their mom still wasn’t there for him.
But Kahiau felt some measure of peace. Something Koa craved.
That had to come from the forgiveness Kahiau had freely offered.
And more than anything Koa wanted that peace. So he’d do his best to forgive his mother. He’d never forget, and he doubted he’d ever let her back into his life like Kahiau had. But he had to forgive in order to let go. For his sake, not hers.
With his decision made, he turned and walked down that long dark hall, knowing there was sunshine at the end of it.