Little bothered good-natured Wilson. He could eat anytime, anywhere, and was at his best on the boat bringing in the fish. Growing up, Daniel watched Wilson and Mano’s relationship alternate between adoration and animosity. Wilson, two years older, was big and strong and boisterous, whereas Mano was more introspective and easily irritated by his brother’s antics, while thankfully, Daniel created balance by being the one they both listened to.

They were all too different for comparison.

* * *

“Look who got out of bed!” Wilson said, waving Daniel to come aboard in the dimness of the early morning.

Once on board, he steadied himself against the boat’s rocking motion as Mano threw him the rope tethering the boat to the dock and jumped down after him.

“Let’s go, yeah!” Mano yelled.

Moments later they pulled away from the dock, leaving Hilo behind. A cool wind blew. Daniel breathed in and out and watched the dark outlines of a sleeping Hilo town grow farther away. Hovering over the island, Mauna Loa’s massive shadow rose toward the moonlight, still smoking, a billowing cloud of steam and gas reaching upward in its dark and dangerous beauty. In the growing distance, Daniel understood what lured the brothers out to sea every morning. He felt completely liberated sailing out into the vast and unpredictable ocean, leaving the rest of the world behind. And for the moment all his anxieties, his mistake and guilt concerning the little girl, the questions of his father’s return, even the eruption felt insignificant in comparison.

Daniel was half listening to Mano talking when he caught her name and quickly turned around.

“I said Maile’s back from Honolulu,” Mano repeated.

Just hearing her name made the past rise with the boat on a sudden wave. He planted his feet to keep his balance. Maile rang through his mind, only to still on his tongue.

“She’s back in Hilo?” Daniel asked.

“Just the other night,” he answered. “Kailani said she came by the house yesterday afternoon.”

“You didn’t see her?”

Mano shook his head.