The Maui Effect (Man-Made Trilogy #1)

The Attempt

Dane

The rain came down like marbles on the rusted corrugated roof, waking Dane up at least a few times in the night. He was staying in an old sugar shack on Kama’s grandparents’ property outside of Pā‘ia . Five acres of jungle with four million chickens and a couple of donkeys who made it a point to call out to each other every half hour or so. Kama’s dad’s family had come from Japan to work for the sugar companies until his grandfather broke away and started his own store, Mizuno General Store. Kama’s dad had grown up on Maui and moved to California for school and stayed for love, but he brought Kama back home every summer, and winter break.

Dane tagged along for a visit one summer when they were teenagers, helping pick liliko‘i and bananas, bushwhacking and learning how to surf the heavy Hawaiian waves. Later, he returned when the big swells rolled in. Growing up, Dane effectively had no father and his mom was an enigma, so the Mizunos had become more family than his own. They brought him to Maui whenever they visited, which was why Maui held a special place in his heart.

In the morning, when he finally got up, his head was throbbing from one too many shots of tequila and his whole body felt like it had been through an extra cycle of the wash. He drank a tall glass of water, then, even though the sun was up, he went back to bed.

Only thing was, he couldn’t fall back asleep. He lay there, watching raindrops slide down the cracked windowpane and reliving that final wave. Its skyscraper drop. The thrill of the win. He wanted to stay there, in that blue and blissful moment, but his mind stubbornly kept returning to the woman, making him feel like a real dope.

What an ass he had been. First, suggesting G&R—that was just rude, and then being a complete jackass and asking her out in front of her dad in the kitchen. He pulled the pillow over his head and groaned. It was the first time he had been turned down in as long as he could remember, and it stung. Yes, she was pretty, with long brown hair, moss green eyes, and freckles dusting her nose and cheeks, but there was more under the surface, he could tell. The way she called them all out fearlessly. Her hypnotic guitar playing. And that voice.

For all the waterfalls out there that need saving.

There was a sadness in the way she had said it, but also a sureness. As though saving waterfalls was a requirement for living. It made him curious. And it made him wonder—what was he saving, other than maybe himself once in a while? He started drifting off again, but a knock on the door startled him back.

“Go away,” he said.

“Get your lazy ass out of bed,” Kama said.

“Have you checked the waves yet?”

“Blown out. But we can check the west side.”

Kama loved the ocean more than anyone he knew. Swell or no swell, calm or storm, he would find a way to be in the water. Surfing, skin diving, paddleboarding, windsurfing, you name it. They were kindred spirits in this way. Kama lived in Santa Cruz now, just up the road from Dane, but it would only be a matter of time before he moved to Maui where his roots were. Dane could hardly blame him.

“Find me some coffee and then we’ll talk,” Dane said.

Ten minutes later, under gathering storm clouds, they hopped on bikes and followed a grassy trail and a network of backroads into town. Pā‘ia was a little rough around the edges, but had an island charm that you couldn’t argue with. Tiny boutiques and art galleries lined up in uneven wooden storefronts. Coconut trees, red dirt and roosters. Even at ten o’clock, the place was hopping. They parked the bikes outside of Maui Bean & Tea Leaf and got in a line that ran nearly out the door, and where clothing was apparently optional. Kama didn’t seem fazed by the line at all.

While waiting, Dane stretched out his tight shoulders, and rolled his neck around, trying to loosen the knots from yesterday. He definitely should have stuck to drinking water last night, but what the hell, the win was a big one. Despite this, he only had one thing on his mind.

“What can you tell me about the singer last night?” he said, trying to sound casual.

“Which singer? The guy or the girl?”

He knew Kama was just messing with him, as usual.

“Come on, man.”

Kama kept his eye on the menu and acted disinterested. “She’s from around here, Dad owns Uncle’s, nice family.”

“I asked her out last night,” Dane said.

“You’re shitting me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I should have known what you were up to. Wasn’t her dad right there?”

“It’s not like she’s a kid. She’s a grown woman, and a very beautiful one,” Dane said, suddenly feeling defensive.

Kama shrugged. “Did she say yes?”

“Turned me down flat. No explanation, nothing. She could be married for all I know, but I couldn’t help myself.”

Even though she wore no ring. He’d checked.

“I don’t think she’s married,” Kama said.

Dane had avoided asking questions last night on the way home, bruised ego and all. But now that he’d started, he suddenly wanted to know more about her.

“How do you know?”

“My tutu is friends with her dad, Uncle Eddie. And you know Tutu, she’s into everyone’s business. I’ll hear about it if her yard guy’s cousin’s daughter gets engaged.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Not sure. She had one for a while on O‘ahu, I think.”

“Where’d she learn to play guitar like that?”

“Her mom was a music teacher up at Seabury Hall—everyone loved her. Sad though, she died last year,” he said.

“Why haven’t I run into her before?”

“Probably because she was younger, and in a different scene. It wasn’t until her senior year she suddenly turned gorgeous.”

One of the girls turned around, stole a look at them, mumbled something to her friend and they both giggled. Dane didn’t care.

“What else does she do? For work, I mean.”

“What’s it to you? She turned you down so it doesn’t matter. And you’re leaving tomorrow anyway, so let it go. Every guy that walks out of Uncle’s on a Sunday night thinks they’re in love with ‘Iwa. You’ll get over it,” Kama said, stepping up to order. “More importantly, what are you going to eat?”

A big breakfast would do him good, maybe clear the cobwebs from his head, so he decided on a breakfast burrito with extra avocado, a banana chocolate chip muffin and a double espresso. They waited off to the side, smashed between a rickety old couple in matching aloha wear and three guys in legit cowboy boots and hats and wearing shirts made from that same Hawaiian checkered print ‘Iwa had on last night. Palaka , if he remembered it right.

Being in Hawai’i almost felt like being in a foreign country. There was no place remotely like it on the mainland. He loved how he got a flower lei every time he arrived, how people invited him in like family and how you always left your rubber slippers at the door. Nowhere else did he feel as welcome—or as unwelcome. It was a weird dichotomy. Because along with the friendly people full of aloha, there were also angry locals who were sick to death of tourists infesting their islands like fire ants.

The girl behind the counter called out their number and he followed Kama out back to a screened-in lānai . He was so focused on his food at first, that he didn’t even notice the woman at the table across the way until he came up for air. Her side was to him, and she was sitting across from the same man she’d been playing music with last night—a strong-looking local dude. ‘Iwa’s hair was down, and she was twisting it around her hand, focused intently on the conversation.

Dane felt a rush of heat run up his neck. “Don’t look now, but three o’clock.”

Kama looked. Dane kicked him.

“Are you sure she’s not with him?” Dane asked.

“Winston? No idea.”

‘Iwa must have felt the weight of their eyes, because at that moment, she turned. She saw Kama first and she lit up, then her gaze jumped to Dane, and a different, more complicated expression appeared on her face. Wariness? Surprise? Pleasure? That was probably going too far. She waved, then resumed her conversation.

In the light of day, her hair looked lighter, sun streaked, and her skin a darker brown. She was long limbed and lithe. Serious, intense even. Stunning.

“At least now I know she’s with someone. Explains last night,” he said, disappointed.

Kama ignored him, fork in one hand, phone in the other, scrolling wind and weather and wave apps. Knowing the elements was an essential part of the surfing life and he probably knew as much as your average meteorologist. “It looks junk on the west side, too,” he said.

Fine by Dane. “I’m feeling pretty beat up, anyway.”

“Tomorrow should be better, after the storm passes. It’s going to be small, though.”

Small to Kama still could mean six feet, Hawaiian. Translated, that meant double-overhead.

“I would never hear the end of it if I changed my flight. My client is on the verge of firing my butt as it is,” Dane said.

Dane’s real job—most big wave surfers had one—was carpentry. Finish carpentry to be exact. He’d been good with his hands since day one, and had honed his skill over the years on moldings and cabinets and custom door and window frames. Though lately, he’d begun making handcrafted furniture because carpentry required him to be in one place, and customers did not understand when he took off midjob in pursuit of waves. He had lost more than one client that way. Surfing came first, but nonsurfers never understood. It was a way of life. A calling. Not just a sport.

“I’m here for another ten days or so, but I have my eye on Portugal. We need to get on that monster wave,” Kama said.

“We will,” Dane said, somewhat absentmindedly.

His gaze found its way across the lānai again, resting on ‘Iwa’s profile. Her thin wrists. Strong arms.

“Look at me, dude. I’m over here,” Kama said, holding a finger up like an ophthalmologist.

Just then, ‘Iwa and Winston stood up. He kissed her goodbye on the cheek, nothing fancy. Not on the lips. For a minute, it looked like ‘Iwa was going to leave, too, but she sat back down and opened a laptop, never once glancing over.

“You know what they say about second chances,” Kama said with a silly grin.

“No, but I know you’re going to tell me.”

“Never confuse a single failure with a final defeat. F. Scott Fitzgerald.”

Not only was Kama a weatherman, he was a walking English textbook. That was one place he and Dane differed—Kama had done well in school. Dane had thought school was a pointless chore, and drove his teachers crazy to no end. All that wasted potential , they used to tell his mother. His mom didn’t seem to care what he did, so their words were wasted.

“I guess that means you’ve changed your mind? Now I shouldn’t forget about her?” Dane said.

Kama threw down his napkin. “I can see the impossibility of that in your eyes. I’m going to the bathroom. You’re going over there.”

Dane was left alone. He froze for a few seconds, then ‘Iwa looked up and gave him a tiny smile. He went over.

“Morning,” he said.

“Morning,” she said, as she typed something into her laptop.

His mind went blank. “Beautiful day,” he mustered.

“It is.”

He heard the whoosh of an email being sent. ‘Iwa half closed her computer and turned her face to him, locking eyes. Dane started sweating and bounced from foot to foot.

“Busy saving waterfalls?” he asked.

“Actually, I am.”

She wasn’t kidding.

“Is that what you do? For a living, I mean?”

“I work for Maui Forest Recovery Project, and one of our forests is in danger of being ruined by a developer. The same forest is home to my favorite waterfall—and birds and plants—and we’re going to fight them. So, I guess that’s a yes.”

“Seems like everyone wants a piece of the island,” he said.

“We’re already over max capacity and yet we keep building more hotels, more developments, more useless shit. Breaks my heart,” she said.

He could feel her sadness, same as last night. Visceral, real. Instead of answering with something smart and witty, he said, “Mine too.”

‘Iwa studied him for a moment, then opened her laptop again. “Excuse me, but I have work to do.”

Her fingers moved swiftly over the keyboard and Dane felt as though he’d grown roots, unable to walk away, unable to think straight.

“I want to help you,” he finally said.

She frowned. “I’m not sure how you can help, but thanks for the offer.”

“I have a good buddy in California who fights these kinds of things all the time. I’ve learned a thing or two from him.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“You’re persistent.”

Dane never gave up, which sometimes was a good thing, and other times got him into trouble. “A fatal flaw,” he said.

“I guess it depends how you look at it,” she said.

“Exactly.” He put his hand on the back of the wrought iron chair. “Mind if I sit? Just for a minute.” He dropped his butt into the chair lightning fast. Kama could wait.

‘Iwa took a sip of her coffee and eyed him over the rim of her mug. “No offense, but you look like hell this morning,” she said.

In the mirror earlier his eyes had been bloodshot, face unshaven, lips cracked and hair smashed in eleven directions. He hadn’t showered because they’d been planning on jumping in the ocean. A little hair of the dog.

“No offense taken. I took a beating yesterday out in the water,” he said, then set his hand over his heart. “And then last night—my heart took one, too.”

That earned him an eye roll. “Oh please. I grew up here. I know how you surfers are.”

He cocked his head. “How are we?”

“More into yourselves and each other than any girl. The ocean is your one true love, the one you put before all else. I understand how it is, because I’m like that with the mountains,” she said with a shrug of her smooth, toned shoulders.

He was intrigued. “Tell me more.”

“That about sums it up. Men are predictable creatures.”

It was his turn to laugh. “Sounds like a pretty big generalization to me. What do you have against men?”

“Nothing. I love men. My dad and uncles, my guy friends, my boss Winston—the man I was just sitting with. Being predictable is not an insult, Dane, it’s just a fact. It makes it easier to deal with your kind,” she said, a hint of a smile drawing up one side of her mouth.

Hearing her speak his name did something to his insides, as though there was a fish moving through his chest, tail brushing up against his ribs, swooshing and swimming. That and the fact that her breakfast with Winston might have been a work thing.

He tried to play it cool. “You make us sound like feral animals. Fair enough, we probably are. But I want to hear more about this waterfall.”

“It’s something you would have to see to believe.”

“I’m ready when you are.”

She laughed. “Sorry, I can’t take you there.”

“Why not?”

“I’m busy. Plus, its location is top secret and it’s a mission to get there.”

“Even better.”

Her expression grew more serious. “The falls are tucked away in the fold of a valley on Haleakalā’s eastern slopes. The property this guy bought runs along the entire stream, and goes right to the middle of it. He says he’s going to build an eco resort but we all know what that means.”

“It means he needs to be stopped,” Dane said, leaning back and crossing his arms.

“Exactly.”

“Do you have a plan?” he asked.

“I just found out last night that he got approval. No one really thought it would go through.”

“My friend has fought loggers, drillers, dam builders, you name it. He talks to me about a lot of his projects. Maybe I can help you brainstorm?” She looked as though she were actually considering it and he quickly added, “No strings attached. I just might be able to offer another perspective, which is sometimes what you need in these cases.”

“When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow. But I’m free tonight. What do you say?”

She watched a butterfly flitter past and he was sure she was going to turn him down again, but instead she said, “Okay.”

Not full of enthusiasm, but it was something.

“I’ll pick you up at five, just tell me where.”

She gave him her address, looked at her watch and slipped her computer into her bag, “I have to be somewhere—I’ve got to run.” When she’d gone two steps, she turned back and said, “And just so we’re clear, this isn’t a date.”

Dane gave her a small salute. “Ten four.”

He had exactly one night to change her mind.