After Samuel left, Nori went directly to the market’s kitchen. It was where she always felt safest, where wonderful things bloomed from her measuring and mixing, kneading and baking. She kept busy cleaning up, breathing in all that was calm and familiar, finding comfort in the years of old stains on the scuffed floorboards, the worn furniture, the lingering sweetness in the air. Nori filled the empty containers with precious flour and sugar, and made sure there was enough lard in the icebox. She took down two jars of mango and papaya jam from the pantry and relished these moments when she cleared the large wooden table to make room for rolling and cutting the dough out for the morning’s sweetbread and rolls. Every morning felt like a new beginning, like anything was possible, seeing her empty table waiting, knowing that she was going to cover every inch of it with her sweet comforts. Nori breathed deeply. She would leave the rest for tomorrow. She took one more look around the readied room before turning out the lights.

* * *

By Christmas Eve, word still hadn’t come from the army as to when they would bomb the lava flow. Nori was fed up waiting. It was Samuel who provided a calming voice. “Not so simple, yeah, the winds and temperature play a big part,” he said, explaining all the planning and logistics the army had to consider. “Planes aren’t like birds, yeah.”

Nori couldn’t be appeased. “Aren’t planes man-made birds?” she asked. “With all the money spent on the military, they should be able to fly at a moment’s notice.”

It was up to her to look for other distractions. Nori walked back to the kitchen when an idea came to her. She returned with her largest mixing bowl and a big glass jar that once held dill pickles. She placed the bowl and jar on the counter next to the register, along with a pencil and pad of paper. It was time she turned their anxiety into something more productive.

“Five-cent buy-in! Winner takes all!” she announced to everyone in the market. “The one coming the closest to picking the right date and time of the bombing wins the entire pot, yeah. And don’t forget your name or I keep the pot!”

Maile and Kailani had come by while she was back in the kitchen and helped to keep everyone orderly and relaxed as they lined up to write down their predictions. Coins clinked into the jar, while slips of paper filled the mixing bowl. As Nori thought, the betting pool cheered everyone up. By the time she locked the door that evening, they were up to $1.65 and counting.

40. Mele Kalikimaka

40

Mele Kalikimaka