Honomu was a small, rural town with wooden walkways, a row of one- and two-story wooden houses, and a general store. Auntie Kobayashi was squat and white-haired; her eyes dark and attentive. She sat on a low chair in the middle of the small, cluttered room that smelled of damp earth and eucalyptus and greeted them. They drank a tepid tea and ate rice crackers. “I see a dark shadow just over your shoulder,” Auntie Kobayashi said, looking directly at Mama, her eyes hard and focused. “The spirits are with you, child, you can’t outrun them, but they will guide you later, yeah. Always remember that, eh.”

“Nestor, you old fool!” she called out louder than expected. Her throat was dry and rusty. “Where are you?”

Mama inhaled. The room was hot and stale, a mix of her own sweat along with the oil and herbs and the coconut lotion that Leia rubbed across her saggy skin. She heard heavy footsteps and then Leia was in the room, the light suddenly too bright and everything too loud as the waking world returned.

“Mama!” her daughter cried out, “You’re awake!” Leia rushed to her, touching her cheek before she bent down to scoop her up in her arms. When Leia pulled away she had tears in her eyes, looking relieved.

Mama wasn’t sure why Leia was so happy. She hadn’t seen her so excited since she was a young girl. My girl, she thought, my talented girl who deserved only the best. Did she ever find it?

“Where I been?” she asked.

“You’ve been asleep for almost a week now, yeah.”

Her stomach made a growling sound. “Hungry,” Mama said.

Leia stepped back and laughed. “Let’s get you something to eat and drink, eh. Be right back.” She squeezed Mama’s hand and stared hard at her as if she were trying to memorize her face before she stood.

My girl, Mama thought again.

Leia then stepped across the room to open the window. “Love you, Mama,” she said before she left.

Mama wondered what had gotten into Leia, who looked as if she’d seen a ghost. She shifted toward the sudden breeze, grateful, sniffed the air, something missing. Mama opened her eyes wide and took a deeper breath, but there was no whiff of sulfur that had been in the air day after day. She lifted her head, closed her eyes, and listened, but couldn’t hear the snap and crackle she imagined it sounded like; the smooth, slithering heat of the lava flowing down the mountain and swallowing everything in its way had stopped.

“Think I don’t know?” Mama said, trying to sit up. “Pele, you a sly one, you finally stopped, eh, showed them fools who’s boss, yeah.”

Mama smiled then. She lay her head back down on the pillow and waited for Leia to return.

47. The Living

47

The Living