He strolled on, skirting the dense line of jungle foliage that held the camp’s many trails. He brushed large ferns and giant fronds, the greens occasionally dotted with the bright-purple pink of bougainvillea and slick, leather-like leaves tinged rust-red.

He turned into the next clearing. Along the wall of jungle green, he spotted a floral dress—a woman sitting on a bench.

Kanani.

The aloha dress looked adorable on her, but it was a little too colorful, like something a tour guide might wear, and he wondered if they’d asked her to wear it—that or they limited her wardrobe. Her hair now had a little wave to the bangs, and she wore yellow plastic-frame sunglasses with a slight uplift at the outside corners, like a cat’s eyes.

He crept up from the side, keeping to the shadows along the backsides of the tents.

She sat upright, on the edge of the bench as if on lookout, her back not touching the backrest. Looking for him?

She kept her eyes behind those big sunglasses.

Her outfit had disarmed Lett a little. He couldn’t help a smile.

Then she turned those sunglasses his way.

He smiled bigger; she smiled back and rose to hug him.

“Aloha,” Lett said. “You just come from the mainland, doll?”

She gave him a little thump on the chest. “Don’t ask.”

“Well, finally—it’s about time we get to see each other.”

“It sure is. Sit, sit.” She found her perch. He joined her, just like on the pew in that little old Kona church. She pulled her sunglasses down.

“You doing okay?” she said.

“I am. I can actually say so. I think treatment is helping. You?”

A group of people passed, just beyond the tents. A doctor’s coat. He and Kanani paused. She slid her sunglasses back on.

“They set me up in my own bungalow,” Lett said eventually.

“Me too.”

“Though I don’t know what comes next. Not exactly.”

“Me neither.”

“I’m not supposed to have visitors yet,” Lett said. “But who knows?”

“Same with me, more or less,” Kanani said. “That will change . . .”

It seemed to Lett that her eyes were avoiding him, even under those sunglasses. He thought of what he could ask her, what she could tell him.

“We should tell each other everything,” he blurted.

“Yes. Look out for each other. Same as before.”

“All that we can, that is. Some things being classified.”

“Right. You smart, Wendell.”

“Well?”

“Oh. I met Jock,” she said, adding another smile. “Ho! Just like a Marine guy.”

“Who?” He recalled Lansdale saying the name. Jock was the Marine he’d fought. “Ah, right.”

“He’s okay. You didn’t hurt him any more than he hurt himself. You two will be all right. I like him. You’ll like him.”