As Koji walked back up the dirt slope to his cottage, he looked out at the wavering shadows of the uncut cane fields. The winds had picked up and he felt something or someone tugging on his sleeve. Koji paused when a rustling movement at the edge of the darkening field caught his eye and filled him with hope. Razor. He hadn’t seen his old friend since the day he left for Hilo and stopped at the cabin. Koji stood and waited, his wound tingling until he saw the tall leaves part and Razor step out from the cane field.

Koji hurried back down the road to the field, happy to see his old friend. “I was wondering when I’d see you again,” he said.

Razor stood, waiting. “You the one been gone, yeah,” he said, and smiled.

“Lot’s happening, eh. Back now,” Koji said.

Razor pointed to his forehead. “Bumped your head?”

“Tripped.”

Razor reached for the whiskey bottle in his shirt pocket. “Cures all,” he said, offering it to him.

Koji declined.

“Like I told you, Pele’s having her way, eh.”

Koji nodded. “You were right, yeah. The army wants to bomb the vents, divert the flow away from Hilo.”

Razor laughed. “Won’t make any difference,” he said, shaking his head.

Koji missed this, their simple conversations that set the world right, even if they were wrong. “I’m sorry,” he suddenly said. “I’ve always wanted to tell you, yeah. I’m sorry I wasn’t at the meeting that night,” he said, the old ache rising again. “I was supposed to be there, I promised you. I would have, but Franklin—”

Razor inched forward. “No need,” he said.

“It’s important you know, yeah, I want you to know.”

“I do,” Razor said. He looked toward the field of cane and back again. “I do know. I wanted you to see that I was more than that crazy kid you grew up with, eh.”

“Much more,” Koji said.

The sky darkened. Last chance for daylight before the spirits came out, his father had said. He’d lost his oldest friend that night, while Franklin had lived. Razor’s death would always haunt him. The years since had allowed him to bury that night until Daniel’s return stirred everything back to the surface again.

Razor shook his head. “Franklin always put his needs ahead of everyone else’s, yeah. Nothing would have changed; you couldn’t have saved me. If not that night, would have been another.”

Koji swallowed. “I should have been there for you.”

Razor drank from his bottle. “You have been,” he said. “Life doesn’t boil down to one night, yeah. Remember the time Laki ran into the fields? You saved us both that day from that crazy luna. Don’t know if he wanted to kill me or the dog more, eh.”

Koji smiled at the memory.