Maile looked up, startled to see him. “Daniel?” she said, glancing nervously around. Her first moments of uncertainty gradually turned to warmth and recognition as they spoke of the eruption, and she smiled as they reminisced about their high school days together.

“You didn’t stay in Chicago?” she asked.

Daniel expected the question, shuffled through the answers he could give her, and chose what was close to the truth. “Something unexpected happened to bring me back home. How about you?”

Maile squinted against the sunlight. “Me too,” she said.

They walked from Oshima’s down to the wharf, the years between them disappearing, the salt-fish air blowing away all the sulfur scents as he pointed out the Okawa & Sons fishing boat berthed along the dock, and the new shave ice stall. They caught up with easy conversation that floated comfortably to the surface. Daniel had spent the past ten years moving at a frantic pace, always trying to be the best until he wasn’t. With Maile, he felt calm for the first time in a long while—she shared his history and his community. She knew his strengths and his weaknesses. With Maile he had nothing to prove.

After they parted, Daniel walked back to the green bungalow, replaying their moments together. Maile was both the girl he once knew and the woman he knew nothing about. The girl had been shy but always at ease, while this Maile was hesitant, overly cautious. It was just one more mystery he had to untangle.

* * *

Daniel woke the next morning filled with energy, a buzz racing through his veins at the thought of seeing Maile again. He left the house early, not willing to wait and worry about when the lava would begin to flow toward Hilo. Instead he kept busy by borrowing Uncle Samuel’s truck and driving to Hilo Hospital to arrange for Mama Natua to take some tests. He hadn’t been back to the hospital since his mother returned home for the last time. Daniel turned down the paved road that led to the gray, three-story concrete building, now L-shaped with the addition of a new children’s wing two years ago. Auntie Nori said it had been funded by a rich sugar plantation owner whose son had been treated at the hospital for dengue fever. Daniel knew it was the closest most locals would come to know the wealth garnered by the sugar plantations, but it was good to see that some of the owners were giving back to the community.