I turn away from the window and settle back on the bench seat, suddenly aware of how close I’m sitting to Koji and how little we’ve spoken. I wonder how he feels riding the train as a passenger, but nothing in his face gives him away. When we first boarded, Koji told me we would be getting off near the small town of Mountain View, before the train continues on to Glenwood, where the rail line ends. The passengers who want to see Kilauea volcano will have to go the last eight miles by horse and wagon. I look around the railcar, guessing that most of the warmly dressed passengers are going up to see the volcano, and part of me wishes we were going up to Kilauea too, which would be a real adventure. I wonder if we can do it another time with Daniel. I’m brought out of my thoughts when the train slows and stops in Mountain View to let us off. Koji waves to the engineer, who makes the unexpected stop for us. We’re to be waiting at the same spot when the train returns in the afternoon. We stand at the side of the tracks like two orphans, yeah, and I still have no idea where Koji is taking me.

“You won’t tell me where we’re going?” I ask.

Koji grins and his face remains unreadable while he plays with the hat in his hands. He’s dressed in jeans and his work boots, a rucksack slung across his shoulder. “You’ll see soon enough,” he says. “We have to walk the rest of the way from here, yeah.” He points toward a path through the trees. “It’s along that trail for about a mile.”

I don’t know what to think, but I do know that Koji is familiar with all the old roads in and around Hilo town. I’m thankful it has stopped raining. In no time, the hazy, warm sun is blocked out and we’re surrounded by tall trees and the dripping green foliage of the rain forest. The path through the forest becomes steep and slick with moss-covered rocks and I’m mindful to watch my steps. The air smells of wet, dank earth. I slip more than once, but catch myself. When Koji takes hold of my hand and guides me down a steep, narrow path slowly, I’m only too happy. My thumb absently sweeps over the hard calluses on his thumb. Half an hour later, I’m hot and sweaty and have no idea why he has taken me out into the rain forest. I’m just about to ask again when he slows and then stops.

“We’re here,” Koji says.

“Where are we?” I ask. Buzzing mosquitoes fill the air as I swat them away.