The Maui Effect (Man-Made Trilogy #1)

The Non-Date

‘Iwa

Most people on Maui had studios or cottages or rooms they rented out. You had to in order to make ends meet. The price of gas was consistently over five dollars, the average home was over a million and everything from food to shoes to toilet paper had to be shipped thousands of miles across the Pacific. The cost of living added up fast.

‘Iwa lived in a small one-bedroom apartment off to the side of the main house that she’d grown up in—a classic 1930s plantation house with painted plywood floors, rattly windowpanes and lauhala mats in every room. Her place had once been the garage, but Eddie had turned it into a living area so ‘Iwa could be close and yet have her own space during her mother’s illness. She’d taken the first plane out of Honolulu the day after she heard the news, and never gone back. Two months shy of graduating, her professors had been understanding, and she finished online.

It had been a fast-moving cancer that started in the right ovary and within a month had spread throughout her whole body. She’d died last spring, nearly a year now, and even still, ‘Iwa half expected Lily to walk in the door, red hair corkscrewing to her waist, guitar in hand, saying, “Let’s play!”

Losing her mother had knocked her world off its axis, and ‘Iwa had responded by going to their favorite places, playing their favorite songs, singing to the sky in the hopes that somewhere up there, Lily was listening. She baked mac nut banana bread and made mango chutney with an extra spoonful of fresh ginger. Watched the stars on clear nights and made up new constellations. Everything she did was to try and get closer, to hold on to a thin residue of her mother’s life. It had been even harder for Eddie.

Now part of her wanted to return to O‘ahu for her master’s degree, but the other part wanted to stay with her dad forever. He thought he was watching over her, when really, she was the one watching over him.

There was also the matter of Koa, who officially belonged to ‘Iwa. But he and Eddie had developed a special bond, and she couldn’t bear to take Koa away. In all honesty, Koa had saved them both. Right now, he was lying on one of his many dog beds, spread-eagle on his back, all four paws in the air.

“Life’s rough, isn’t it?” ‘Iwa said.

Koa looked up at her with an upside-down side-eye. His gray tail wagged. She sat on the chair next to him and rubbed his belly with a foot, while picking up the newspaper her dad had left on her table. “Dane Parsons Wins at Pe’ahi” was the headline. There were three photographs. One of him as a tiny speck on a massive blue wave, another of him and Kama having champagne sprayed on them on the makeshift podium, and a third candid of Dane standing at the edge of a cliff. He wasn’t smiling and was holding his hand up, not quite a wave. A circle of light surrounded him, a play on the lens. She smiled at the photo, then caught herself and dropped the paper on the floor as if it was on fire.

The north winds had died down, turning the day a crisp and sunshiny blue. Her favorite winter weather. She took an extra-hot shower, rubbed coconut oil over her body and opened her tiny closet. She pulled out a strapless orange maxi dress, then decided it was too fancy. Maybe jeans and a gauzy top, tied at the waist? Nope, too casual. Why did it even matter? Annoyed at her indecision, she applied mascara and a touch of lipstick, then dabbed most of it off with a tissue.

She felt twitchy and nervous. But there was also something simmering just under her skin that felt remarkably like excitement. Meeting up with Dane was probably a bad idea, but she was running out of time now that the eco resort was approved, and if he could provide her with any good ideas, it would be worth every minute. Plus, he was leaving tomorrow, what could possibly go wrong?

In the end, she decided on a mint green minidress that had once been a mu’umu’u , but had been stylishly reconfigured. From the driveway, she heard the sound of a motor. A very loud, sputtery motor. Koa heard it too and tore out the back door before ‘Iwa could stop him.

“Koa, come here!”

Dane was in a fire-engine red truck that looked fifty years old. Koa had both paws up on the driver’s side window and was barking and slobbering madly. Dane was leaning clear across the cab to get away from him.

“Koa, down,” ‘Iwa said in her most authoritative voice. With Koa, it was hard to tell if he wanted to lick someone to death, or to eat them. Most people assumed the latter, just because he was an oversized mastiff mix. She could tell he recognized Kama’s truck and just wanted to say hello. She pointed to the house. “Inside, you stay here.”

She hopped in before he could climb in with her, which he’d been known to do. Dane was dressed in beige corduroy pants and a blue aloha shirt with waves on it. His thick hair had been tamed with some kind of gel or cream that smelled like waffles, and he looked like a new man since his disheveled morning.

“Hey, sorry, not very gentlemanly of me to not get your door, but your dog wants to eat me,” Dane said.

“It’s fine. He can be intimidating.”

Dane stared at her for a moment, looked like he was about to say something, then stopped, mouth half open. He stayed like that a few beats too long, then grabbed a bunch of gardenias on the seat and handed them to her.

“I picked these outside of my shack,” he said. “The world’s finest flower.”

Gardenias were her favorite, too, especially the nā‘u—the native ones, but the non-date was beginning to feel very date-like, and ‘Iwa had the sudden urge to climb back out and say, Thank you, I had a nice time. Have a wonderful life. Instead, she said, “Did you know they belong to the coffee family? Gardenia jasminoides. ”

Kill him with nerdiness. It was a tactic she’d used with some success to ward men off when she wasn’t interested.

“No. Have you ever brewed one?”

“Never.”

“Maybe we ought to try it some time.”

She laughed. “No thanks. So, where are we headed?”

“Top secret.”

In his low bass voice, he had this way of sounding like he was smiling when he spoke, even though he wasn’t.

“Remember, I live here. I’ve been everywhere,” she said.

“That’s why I figured I’d take you somewhere you probably don’t go very often, if ever. My treat.”

They bounced down the road toward Wailuku and she wondered where they were going but didn’t ask. Then he took the turn toward the west side. “Really, I’m fine going someplace close and easy,” she said.

“I don’t mind the drive.”

“Are you sure the truck will make it?” she asked.

“This thing is a tank. She’ll go forever.”

“Famous last words.”

“What’s wrong, do you have a curfew or something?” he asked, looking over at her and almost yelling to be heard over the engine and open windows.

She winced. “No, I don’t have a curfew. I’m twenty-four. In Hawai’i, people live at their parents’ house because no one can afford their own place. That and family means everything to us, so there’s no real rush to leave them behind.”

“I was just kidding. I know how it is here. I stay with the Mizunos every time I come. They have a full-on compound over there.”

“My dad is friends with Auntie Ivy.”

Every older adult here was Auntie or Uncle . No matter if you were related or if you even knew the person. It made the island seem like one big family. Which it kind of was.

Conversation was hard with the noise, so they stayed mostly quiet as they passed through the middle of Maui, the wide, flat neck of old sugarcane land that spread out between Haleakalā and the West Maui Mountains. Every so often he threw out a question, or she pointed out a landmark. When they hit the other side, they went left toward Wailea. The land of white sand beaches, endless condos and tiger sharks. It was hot, dry and swarming with people. Dane was definitely right about one thing. She never came here.

In her eyes, Wailea had one redeeming quality: its sunsets. Now a giant orange sun hovered over the horizon, sending beams of light in all directions like a disco ball. As they drove along the water, the whole ocean glittered gold. Then they pulled into the Four Seasons and she felt her stomach tighten. He led her to a fancy Italian restaurant right on the water, white tablecloths, Tiki torches, the whole shebang.

The hostess was a tan, leggy blonde in a black dress. Literally, the minute she saw Dane, she started smoothing down her hair and fanning herself with the menus.

“Aloha, welcome.”

“Thanks, I have a reservation under—”

“Parsons, right? I know who you are. I’m sure the whole island knows who you are after yesterday. Big congrats!” she gushed.

Dane smiled like a pro. “Ah, thanks. I doubt that’s true, though.”

The hostess led them to an edge table, where you could hear the wash of the ocean running up the lava rocks, and handed them menus. The hostess did not take her eyes off Dane for one second.

“My boss is going to kill me, but would I be able to get your autograph?” she finally said.

“Sure,” Dane said, much more graciously than ‘Iwa would have.

The waitress produced a napkin, and he signed it. It was hard not to notice the muscles of his forearm. The dark five o’clock shadow that dipped into a cleft on his chin. Or the hard angle of his cheekbones.

When she left, Dane said, “That was awkward. Sorry about that.”

“I guess you better get used to it.”

“Nah, to ninety-five percent of the world I’m nobody. Which is all right by me.”

She looked around at the surrounding tables to see if anyone else had noticed their arrival. They hadn’t. It also seemed they were underdressed. Or maybe everyone else was overdressed. Next to them, two sparkly, shiny couples were discussing the merits of visiting Maui over the Bahamas, and how during the holidays, there was little room to park their private plane. Then the waiter came over and took their drink order.

“I’ll have an Overboard IPA,” ‘Iwa said.

“Same.”

They sat there for a moment staring out at the ocean. She willed herself to ignore all the manufactured ambience, because it really was beautiful, but she couldn’t stop her foot from tapping. She should never have let him choose the place.

“I’ve been thinking about your waterfall all day, and I have some ideas, but let’s order first,” Dane said.

This gave her a small measure of comfort. As long as she got what she came for, she could handle anything. But then she looked at the menu. Maine lobster. Alaskan king crab flown in that very day, cod from Cape Cod. All over fifty bucks. Their beers came in tall frosty glasses and she realized those were probably a good fifteen dollars each.

She set down the menu. “You know, I’m not really hungry.”

Dane frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Obviously something.”

“No, really. You go ahead and eat. I had a late lunch.”

“If you’re worried about the prices, remember I’m paying.”

It really was the principle of the matter. “It’s not that.”

“Then what?”

She knew she was being difficult but couldn’t help it. “I just get bummed when restaurants fly all this seafood in from all over the place, when we have the best fresh fish right here in our ocean.”

“At least the beer is local,” he said, holding up his bottle in front of the candle.

She took a big swig. “That’s about the only thing that is.”

He downed his in one long gulp and set the glass down. “You know what? Let’s get out of here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” He leaned forward, close enough so she could see the Tiki torch reflection in his eyes, and said, “I should have let you choose. This is your home, not mine.”

He seemed so genuine, her heart softened just a little for him.

On the way out, Dane insisted that she choose the next location. The beer had gone to her head, and she felt strangely giddy as they drove back the way they’d come.

“Do you have any towels in here?” she asked.

He glanced over at her. “Will there be swimming with dinner?”

She laughed. “You’re kind of a dork, you know that?”

“It’s an honest question.”

“You’ll see.”

She gave him directions, and instead of turning back toward Kahului, they veered toward Lahaina. When they pulled up to Tigershark Tacos, it was late enough to be almost deserted. Despite the cheesy name, they had the best Mexican food on the island. Dane grabbed a towel out of the back of the truck and they went to order.

“I usually get the chile rellenos or the veggie tamale with green sauce,” she said, as they ducked under a weepy kiawe tree.

“I’m a carne asada burrito guy, myself.”

At the window, before ‘Iwa could even say hello, the man working stuck his whole arm and half his body out the window. “Hey, look who the cat dragged in. Nice win, bro! The whole truck was rocking when you made that last wave.”

Dane reached out and shook. “Thank you, Alex.”

Aurora, the owner, poked her face out, too. “ Mijo , you da big hero. I make the regular for you, on the house.” She glanced over at ‘Iwa. “And Se?orita ‘Iwa, you two are together?”

“No,” ‘Iwa said.

At the same time, Dane answered, “Yes.”

“I mean we are but we aren’t. We are here together to eat,” she said, for some reason feeling the need to clarify.

Dane seemed amused. “Whatever you say.”

After ordering, they sat at a tiny table with a rooster perched on the umbrella post overhead. The temperature had dropped some, and she rubbed her bare arms for warmth.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been here before?” she asked.

“You didn’t tell me where we were going until we pulled in, and then I figured you’d know soon enough. Kama brings me here every time we surf on this side.”

“I’ve never seen Aurora give anyone a free meal.”

The woman was as shrewd as they came, running her taco truck like a drill sergeant.

“I think she has a crush on me,” he said.

“Oh please, she could be your grandmother.”

His gaze swept slowly across her face. “Age isn’t a big deal for some people. But it doesn’t matter anyway because I have my eye on someone else.”

A line of heat ran up her neck, but she ignored the last part of his comment. “Auntie is seventy. How old are you?”

Dane laughed. “Maybe that’s a little beyond my range. But I’m getting up there, pushing thirty.”

“Amazing you can still stand up on a surfboard.”

“Easy there.”

When their order was ready, they walked down a short path to the beach following the leftover twilight. No one else was around and he spread out the towel, which was more bath towel than beach towel, for them to sit on. He popped open two more beers and they sat. ‘Iwa on the far edge of the towel.

“So, tell me about this waterfall. I want to know what we’re fighting for,” Dane said, after taking a huge bite out of his burrito.

“We?”

“I’m at least trying to help, so yeah, we .”

He had a point. “Most people don’t even know it’s there. It’s not the biggest or the tallest, and it’s way off the beaten path, but it’s special for many reasons.” She stopped, unsure if he deserved to know the full story.

“What makes it so special?” he asked.

“Does it need a reason, other than just being a waterfall?”

“I get the sense this is personal.”

When ‘Iwa closed her eyes, she could feel the cool mist lightly touching her skin, and hear the roar of the falls. She had been trailing behind her mother, keeping close and hopping on the same rocks to avoid slipping. Moss lived on all surfaces this deep in the forest. She could still see her mother’s mud-spattered legs as they scaled a cluster of truck-sized boulders. When they finally reached the pool, ‘Iwa was eager to jump in, but Lily grabbed her small hand and said, “This is said to be the hideaway house of the sun, where he comes to rest and recuperate. We must tread lightly.”

“It is,” ‘Iwa said to Dane.

She blinked the memory away, took a bite and washed it down with beer. Dane inhaled his entire burrito before she was halfway done.

“Have you always been a forest nymph?” he said, changing course.

“Have you always been a sea creature?”

“I asked you first.”

Opening up to Dane felt risky, and she wanted to keep things on the surface, but she found herself needing to answer. “Always. Don’t get me wrong, I love the beach and I grew up as a barefoot sandy kid, but my best friend had a ranch upcountry and we used to ride horses and hike Haleakalā and do mountain things. I even got lost in the forest once and had to spend the night under a giant ‘ōhi‘a tree. I was cold but never scared. It was foggy and eerie and I loved it.”

“How old were you?”

“Ten.”

Dane inched closer to her on the towel, as though now that it was growing dark, he couldn’t hear as well. “Sounds like a rite of passage to me. Did you have any big epiphanies or meet your guardian spirit?” he asked.

She looked at him to make sure he was serious. He appeared to be. “Actually I did. But I didn’t realize it until later. The fog was so thick I could barely see my hand when I stuck out my arm all the way. I was inching along, watching the ground to make sure I didn’t fall off any cliffs when I almost bumped into a pueo sitting on an old fencepost. The weird thing was, she didn’t fly away when she saw me, just stared at me with the most beautiful owl eyes. There was so much intelligence in them, it floored me. It was like I suddenly saw beneath the surface to the living, breathing beings that were all around me. Every tree, every bird, every spider.” She paused, remembering one of her favorite moments. “I have no idea how long I stood there, staring at this profound little creature, but it changed me.”

They sat there for a moment, looking out to sea. ‘Iwa sipped her beer, noticed Cassiopeia and the Pleiades amidst a now star-spotted sky.

“How did it happen for you, with the ocean?” she asked.

“That’s a hard act to follow. You sure you want to hear?” he asked.

She really did.

“I do.”

“When I was eight, a storm had washed all kinds of stuff onto the beach and I was down there one morning—we lived close enough to walk—and I found an intact rowboat on the beach. It was small, nothing fancy, but the oars were still in it. The water was sheet glass and I pushed that boat through the shore break and rowed around for hours. I went pretty far out, through the kelp beds and way past where I’d ever been. There were pelicans and cormorants swooping around me, a sea lion followed me for a bit, and then a white shark. I swear the fin was three feet high, and it came right up to the boat, looked up at me with a big dark orb of an eye and swam on past. I knew in my gut that it was only curious and meant me no harm. I felt no fear, only this huge sense of freedom. I was hooked after that,” he said, looking at her with a wide smile.

“Did you know we have great white sharks here?” she said.

He nodded. “ Carcharodon carcharias. No one is exactly sure why they come, but they do come. More so in winter.”

“I’ve wondered. Maybe for a warm water vacation? My dad has seen one out fishing, a big one.”

“Did you know they can grow to be over twenty feet?” he asked.

‘Iwa nodded. “Did you know they have over three hundred teeth?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen them. When that shark swam past me, she turned to the side and I could see rows of them, prickly like cactus.”

She laughed. “Okay, you win. I’ve never seen a shark in the water. Not even a reef shark.”

Being with Dane was more fun than she wanted it to be. She had hoped to keep it purely business, but she found herself following his tangents too easily.

“I’ve seen more than I can count. They don’t scare me.”

“What does?”

He mulled it over for a while, then said with a sly grin, “You?”

She wasn’t really sure what she expected him to say, but that was not it. “Are you always this dramatic?” she said, trying to keep it light.

“I’m being serious.”

“You just met me.”

“Fair enough,” he said, looking out at the water. “Maybe the worst thing I can imagine is not being able to surf anymore. That terrifies the shit out of me.”

“What about the giant waves? They don’t scare you?”

“In a way, but I’m not sure scare is the right word. They energize me and excite me and give me a reason to be here. Fear is part of the equation for sure, but you learn to live with it so it becomes more of a background thing.”

“How long have you been surfing?”

“I caught my first wave before I was even born. My mom surfed.”

A pale shadow crossed over his face at the mention of his mom, and ‘Iwa sensed something beneath the surface there.

“That explains it then,” she said.

“Enough about me.” He shook his head. “I came here to help you. Do you know if there are any old archaeologic sites on the property? Or anything of historic importance? That can get a project halted these days,” he said, snapping his fingers.

This wasn’t new information, but she appreciated it nonetheless. And liked that he was following through on his promise. That said something about him.

“Not that I know of. But what about water rights? Anything he does to that stream will affect the whole watershed below,” she said.

“But if he agrees to leave the stream intact, that leaves you without a leg to stand on.”

A large raindrop landed on ‘Iwa’s shoulder. Then another on her thigh. The metallic smell of rain hung in the air. She looked up and saw a black silhouette moving over them from the land. “We should probably go, it’s going to pour pretty soon.”

“I don’t mind a little rain,” he said.

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

“This is pakakū rain, the drenching kind. Trust me, we don’t want to be caught in it.”

As if on cue, the skies opened up. ‘Iwa stuffed everything in a bag and Dane jumped to his feet, shaking out the towel. He held a hand out and she let him pull her up, light as a feather. His grip was warm, hands calloused. She stumbled in a dip in the sand, pressing a palm into his already wet chest to steady herself. He felt taut and warm and smooth, like eucalyptus in the sun, and her hand lingered. Then a flash of lightning sent them both scrambling and they booked it to the truck.

The drive back was a wet and steamy affair. Dane had to keep wiping the windshield with the damp towel, which wasn’t much help. Huge mud puddles had formed in the road, and between the hard rain on the metal roof, the occasional bang of thunder and the old motor, they exchanged few words along the way. Every so often, she sensed him glancing her way.

Dane had been surprisingly nice to be around and ‘Iwa found herself both wishing he’d be on Maui a little longer, and relieved he was leaving. He was not the kind of distraction she needed right now. Nor was she ready to let anyone in again, not so soon.

When they arrived at her house, ‘Iwa was ready to say a fast goodbye and make a dash for it, but he turned off the engine. For a few heartbeats, they sat unmoving.

“That was bad timing with the rain,” he said.

“Yeah, but rain is always a blessing.”

“What did you call it? Palaka? ”

“Pakakū.”

“Is it true Hawaiians have like a hundred words for rain?” he asked, shifting his body so he was facing her.

“Closer to two hundred. My mom and I used to love to make up our own names, too. Her favorite was cobweb rain, for when it was fine and misty and covered the branches in tiny droplets. Mine was tadpole rain, kind of like this.”

He looked outside. “I don’t know, this feels more like jellyfish rain to me.”

She laughed. “That’s a new one. I like it.”

They were silent a moment. ‘Iwa admired the intricate patterns of water on the windshield. The cab of the truck felt like a warm cocoon and she suddenly didn’t want to leave.

“I wish I wasn’t flying out tomorrow,” Dane finally said.

Me too , she wanted to say. There was an electricity filling up the truck, humming across her skin. If she felt it, he surely did, too.

“You’ll be back before you know it,” she offered.

“Are you free to get coffee in the morning? I’m buying.”

Her mind raced for an answer. It felt strangely like she was walking a line between life veering one way or another. He was a perfectly good male specimen, and one who seemed to have some depth. But still, she had her own impermeable rules to live by, and a heart to be protected.

It seemed pointless to prolong the inevitable. “I wish I could, but I have to work.”

“So I guess this is goodbye then.”

The rain turned on even harder. An insistent roar.

“I guess so,” she said.

Dane leaned over so that their faces were inches apart. There was that beachy smell again, mixed with coconut and spice. His breath was hot against her cheek. She wondered if he was going to kiss her, really kiss her, but instead he placed a hand lightly on her thigh, sending goose bumps all the way to her toes. He reached for the door and opened it for her, letting in a whoosh of cold air. His mouth was at her ear.

“This isn’t the end,” he whispered, before sitting back in his seat almost as if he hadn’t said anything.

The words sent her heart racing. Unsure of how to respond, and not sure she trusted herself another second in his presence, she stepped out into the night.