Koji stood by the screen door watching Daniel get out of the truck and was reminded of the first time eight-year-old Daniel had asked him if he could visit the plantation to see where he and Uncle Razor worked. Between watching the sugar train being unloaded at the station and discovering Koji’s cane knife one day in the back of his truck, young Daniel had become fascinated with everything about the sugar plantation. Koji hesitated and cleared his throat, suddenly fearful. He tried to keep his two worlds separate: one was work, the other family. The real truth was a constant thorn pricking at him; he was embarrassed by and unsure of what Daniel would think of him when he saw the crowded, run-down cottage where he lived, the hard, dirty, grueling work he and Razor did in the fields that made up their daily lives.

“It’s not a place for little boys,” Koji had explained.

“Why?” Daniel asked.

“It’s just fields and workers doing hard work with sharp knives, yeah.”

“But it’s where sugar comes from,” he insisted. “I’ll be careful, I will.”

Koji looked to Mariko, who had smiled at him and nodded. If she didn’t mind, how could he? It warmed him to be reminded that she never saw him as just a cane cutter.

* * *

Koji pushed open the screen door and watched Daniel walk toward the house.

“What brings you all the way up here?” he asked. “Everything okay?”

“You bring me all the way here,” Daniel said, lifting the bag in his hand. “Everything’s fine. Everyone’s still waiting for Pele to make up her mind which way she’s going to flow, so I thought it was about time we sat down and had a beer together.”

Koji smiled, happy to see him. “Come in.” He led him through the porch and into the house.

“I see nothing’s changed,” Daniel said, stopping at the doorway and looking around his spare living room.

Mariko and Daniel had visited a few times after he moved to the sugar train cottage in 1919. By then Daniel was twelve and no longer captivated by plantation life. The cottage was still small and spare, but it was all his and meant more than he could say.

“I do have a radio now,” Koji said. “Thought it about time to step into the modern world, eh.”

Daniel laughed and handed him the bag. Koji walked to the kitchen, opened the bottles, and returned.

“Let’s go sit on the porch where it’s cooler,” Koji said, handing him an opened beer. When they settled, he continued, “How’s Maile? I caught a glimpse of her at the meeting before you shot out after her.”

“She’s fine,” he said.

“Is she back for good?”

Daniel nodded and smiled.

“Good for you.”