Thirteen
Instead of being afraid of things that were real, I had always been afraid of things that were not. Like, if I was walking home and I heard a noise, I wasn’t thinking stalker or serial killer. I was thinking werewolf. It was how my brain worked.
So, when I swam out into the Pacific, I wasn’t worried because I never contemplated sharks or rough currents or jellyfish or anything remotely frightening. I was in the water. What could happen?
As I rose and fell with the waves, I felt small in the grand scale of earth and sky and water, and that perspective, as I realized how truly insignificant I was, sort of jogged my brain.
For months, I had been thinking about trying to relaunch Harvest Design—my company with Dylan Greer—which I had loved more than anything besides Sam Kage.
Ever since I had realized that I really did hate my job and that my boss really didn’t like me, I’d understood that it was just another sign to change my life that I had been ignoring.
Normally, I looked for guidance all over, even in the most mundane things, but lately, nothing was getting through, and I knew why.
I had been so scared for so long to try again.
Having failed once, I didn’t want to repeat it—the soul-crushing pain of having to give up on my dream.
But after three years away from it—working for other people, being a pinball, moving at the pace of others, being at their whim about what I should do and how I should think—I was done.
And some people had to endure it; some people didn’t have the choices I did to try and work for themselves not once, but twice, and I was so thankful that wasn’t me.
I was lucky to have resources in my brother and friends, who were there, I knew, waiting for me to grow another spine.
So, as soon as I got back to shore—if … because, really, it was starting to get a little dark … I was going to finally figure things out.
First off, I had to somehow, someway, take what I hoped for and what I thought Dylan wanted and put that together without running out on Fallon Strauss.
Whether the man knew it or not, I was counting him in as being with me, in on my big-picture dreams because he had been my safety net, and I wasn’t about to leave him alone.
I just had to connect all the dots. I was good at figuring out puzzles, and I just needed time to see all the options.
I was thinking, weighing things in my head, and then my right leg cramped.
And I was pretty sure I saw a fin. At the same time, I remembered that when I had changed the billing on my room to my credit card from Aaron’s, they had told me that the B you get plenty respect. Come.”
It was loud and noisy, and the barbeque smelled so good that I was salivating. Nothing made you more tired and hungry than swimming. Kids came out of the water like ravenous beasts, and I was no exception.
“Tetsuo, who your friend?”
And he explained how stupid I was, where I had been swimming and how far out. One of the women—Ku’uipo, shortened to just Ipo—pointed to where the cold-water beach shower was, about fifty yards away, and told me that I needed to get the saltwater off me and she had clothes that would fit.
I tried to explain where I was staying, but she shut me down, like women do, and pointed.
I went.
When I got back, with the towel wrapped around my waist and sandy feet, the rest of me rinsed, she had a pair of dry board shorts and a T-shirt for me to change into. They both smelled like laundry detergent, which I hoped would cloak my own man stink.
“I probably reek,” I told her.
“You smell like the ocean,” she told me. “That’s okay, yeah?”
I hoped it was.
She put me in a chair that you usually sat in to watch little kids play soccer or other sports and gave me a can of Hawaiian Sun Passion Orange to drink as she brought me a plate piled high with food. The guys watching her turned their eyes on me when she was gone.
“Ho, brah, she like you,” the man closest to me said.
“No,” I said, smiling at him, “she just wants to feed me since I nearly drowned and all.”
“Where you was?”
I had no idea and called over to Tetsuo. He didn’t hear me.
“Uncle, where this haole was at?”
“His name Jory,” Tetsuo corrected him.
“ ’Kay, ’den, still, where he was at?”
And he proceeded to tell them where I was, beyond the reef, and I got looks of both respect and squints, like perhaps I wasn’t all there in the head. Apparently, it was a little dicey out that far.
“Get sharks, you know.”
I did know. Now.
“You when grind this kine food before?” another man asked me.
I shook my head because I’d never eaten it before, but that hardly mattered. I shoveled whatever the green stuff was into my mouth.
Makana was talking to me, his cousin Kimo was beside him, and Tommy was on the other side.
We were joined by Ioane, who I liked the best, until Kawika showed up.
Kawika was patient. He explained all about squid luau—the green stuff; lau lau, which was pork and butterfish, wrapped in taro and ti leaves; fried rice; macaroni salad; fried Aku bones, which was just the middle bone of the fish with meat on it that you picked off; and pipikaula, which was like beef jerky, except the pieces were thick and tender.
Everything was amazing, and when I asked Kawika if I could have more, I got a smile, with dimples, and he tipped his head for me to follow him.
The food was all out in aluminum foil pans, and Ipo was there with Lani and another girl named April. I thanked her again for feeding me and told her how amazing all the food was.
“Oh, Uncle.” She turned back to look at Tetsuo, who was sitting at the grown-up table with all the other men and women his age. “You were right. This one got good manners.”
“Yeah, I told you.” He smiled, gesturing for me. “Jory, come.”
I moved fast and was introduced around the table. They wanted to know where I was staying and where I was from, and I was pleased to hear that one of the men had a grandson, going to school at the University of Chicago.
“Well, if there’s anything you’d like me to take back for him when I go, just lemme know.”
You would have thought I had given the man, Randy Awana, a million dollars.
“You can take food for him?”
“Yessir.”
“ ’Kay, ’den, Jory, I going give you my numba, and you call me the night before you go, and I going get all the stuffs together.”
“Absolutely.”
I got a hug then, which was nice, and a kiss from Ipo, and more food, which was the best part. When I was sitting back down with Makana and Kawika, I saw another guy looking at me.
“Brian,” Makana barked at him. “Why you giving Jory da stink eye for?”
“Eh, sorry.” He tipped his head at me. “I was wondering—Ipo like you an’ what?”