They walked the rest of the way, with Daniel making small talk about the work he needed to do on the green bungalow, hoping to put her at ease again, hoping to drown out the woman’s anguished voice pleading with him not to blame her husband.

Ghost Voices

Ghost Voices

MARIKO, 1915

Koji and I are riding a passenger train toward the village of Mountain View when the noisy, rumbling railcar scrapes along the tracks with a sudden shriek, jarring my attention away from the window. I’m embarrassed to think that it’s the first time I’ve been this far away from Hilo town. The fifteen miles seem a world away, yeah. Even my honeymoon was spent at the green bungalow because Franklin didn’t have money to take us farther. Every year he promised we’d go away the following year. In the end, he was the only one who went away.

The train car is spare and practical, wooden benches and dirt-covered gray floors. It begins to rain, drops whipping against the window, leaving thin lines of snail trails. Still, I’m awestruck by it all. I can’t take my eyes away from the fleeting coastline as the train carries us toward the mountains in the direction of the Kilauea volcano. And just as quickly the view shifts and we’re suddenly bordered on both sides by a wall of tall eucalyptus and ohi’a trees. I can’t help but think of how thrilled Daniel would be on this train with us. The trip was completely unexpected, something Koji had offered when he was at the house this past Sunday.

“There’s a place I’d like to show you,” he’d said as he stood to leave.

“Where?” I ask.

“Not so far. Near Mountain View.”

“What about Daniel?”

We’ve done everything with Daniel since Franklin disappeared almost two years ago. At eight years old, he’s beginning to look so much like Franklin it sometimes hurts to see him, a sharp, prickling stab in the middle of my chest.

“He’ll be in school,” Koji says. He gave no other explanation.

“Okay,” I say, agreeing, and a warm flush rises to my cheeks.

“Good then,” Koji says. “We’ll take the train over on Tuesday, yeah.” He wouldn’t tell me where we’re going, only to bring a sweater and wear some sturdy shoes.

* * *