Auntie Wang held a hand up. “I’ll get there, but first I have to start at the beginning. You need to know what it was like to grow up in Maui long ago, before we were turned into a tourism landmark and all the foreigners flocked here.”

Quinn listened intently. She’d always wanted to know what her mother’s childhood was like, but that was a subject that had been closed to her.

“Before you were born,” Auntie Wang continued, “and even before your mother was born, the island was quiet. Barely any traffic. And was not even on the map of popular places to visit. Did you know that Maui was the first capital of the Kingdom of Hawaii?”

“I did,” Liam said, raising his hand.

“Of course you did. I wasn’t talking to you.” She gently chastised him, but Quinn knew it was a ruse. It was obvious she and Liam were crazy about each other.

“It used to be a whaling port, didn’t it?” Quinn asked.

Auntie Wang nodded. “Up in Lahaina, yes. Even today the whales come back every year, but now that it’s a well-known attraction and the tourists flock to the shores, there are fewer sightings. Back when the whales were plentiful, sugarcane grew wild and abundant here, and the entire island was fueled by the work on plantations. The big businesses that came after the sugar overthrew the Hawaiian kingdom and stole land for their crops and water for their fields, pushing many families away because they were unable to do what they’d done for generations.”

She looked pained for a moment. “My own ancestors were a big part of that, I’m sad to say. But people will always seize a way to build a better life for their families.”

“No shame in that, Auntie Wang,” Liam said.

She continued, “Things changed, but Hawaiian life was still good. While Oahu was becoming a metropolitan kind of place, and the big island was attracting hordes of outsiders, Maui continued to be the secret, quiet oasis of the Hawaiian people. Back then, entire villages raised children, not just a set of parents. When I was growing up, I was welcomed into the homes of all my neighbors—Filipinos, Japanese, Koreans, and all others. I have a palate even now for every type of food, matching any sort of culture that ever came here. My parents never worried for me, and many evenings I sat at the feet of a Kupuna—one of the neighborhood elders—while he entertained all of us children with stories and legends. It was a magical childhood, full of dreams about night marchers on the beaches, mermaids in the river pools, and gods of the sea.”

She paused, her eyes closed as she remembered.