I do. I realize I trust Koji more than I’d ever trusted Franklin. I try to relax then and allow him to pull me forward, small, careful steps until we suddenly emerge into a large, open cavern in which we can stand straight again. It feels like we’ve stepped into the stomach of some beast.

“We’re here,” Koji says.

Where is here? I think, though I’m just relieved to be standing again.

“Now watch, yeah,” he says.

Koji raises the lantern toward the ceiling, and the cave illuminates with a constellation of silver and gold patterns, setting the rocks overhead ablaze. I inhale at the sight, taking it in and breathing it out slowly. I’ve never seen anything like it, a small universe in the middle of a dark, dank lava cave that sends another shiver through me. I feel Koji move closer and take my hand again, warm and reassuring. And for just a moment, everything else disappears and we’re standing in a world all our own.

And Then . . .: December 11–16, 1935

And Then . . .

December 11–16, 1935

25. Restless

25

Restless

The morning had gotten away from Daniel. He lay in bed and couldn’t stop thinking about Maile. Their day had gone so well on the Scenic Express until they returned to Hilo. It saddened him to hear she’d been so traumatized during her time in Honolulu, and he couldn’t help but feel partly to blame. If they hadn’t broken up, none of this would ever have happened. A moment later he sat up, tamping down his thoughts. You couldn’t change the past. Hadn’t he learned that from his own mistakes? You simply learned to live with them. It would take time for Maile, he knew, but they were seeing Mano and Kailani at the end of the week, and just being home again with people who cared about her would settle some of her fears. All that mattered was Maile had confided in him. It was a good start.

* * *

By the time Daniel walked to the fish market to borrow Uncle Samuel’s truck to run some errands, it was already early afternoon. The sky was thick and gray, the heat held in by the clouds. He expected rain at any time as he drove to the Natua house, first to check on Mama, hoping the wheelchair had been helpful. He didn’t expect great strides in such a short time, but just being mobile would get her out of her room, remind her that there was still an outside world around her. Part of him was also hoping to jog her memory about his father so he could piece together some answers, only to be disappointed when he arrived to find she was napping.

Auntie Leia ushered him in. “She’ll be up soon, yeah. Stay,” she said. “Just made some papaya juice.”

“How is Mama? Is the wheelchair helping?”