The Maui Effect (Man-Made Trilogy #1)

How to Stay on Maui

Dane

Outdoor showers were one of Dane’s favorite things. There was pretty much nothing a shower under the sky couldn’t improve. Scalding water poured down on his shoulders and he didn’t want to get out. The shower at Kama’s farm was famous, surrounded in lava rock with ferns and ginger growing out of the cracks, and a wheel-sized showerhead that pulsed down fresh well water. Cool raindrops mixed in with the hot, turning the experience into one of pure Hawaiian bliss.

Kama had already taken off with a few friends to surf. Dane would leave the truck at the airport before catching his flight. Leaving Maui was always rough, but this time, he had spent the whole morning trying to come up with valid reasons to stay without losing his gig at the Manning house. Tropical storm, food poisoning, torn muscle, canceled flight. He was already on thin ice with Mr. Manning, and he knew none of those would fly.

He dragged himself out of the shower, and down the rock path to his shack. The old clock on the wall was permanently stuck on twelve, so he checked his phone to see if he had time to grab a coffee and maybe run into ‘Iwa before he left. There was a message from Manning and his stomach twisted. Dane, I have a quick trip to Arizona for business. Need to push back the work a bit. I’m back the 20th so see you then. Nice wave, by the way!

Dane stared at the words and could not believe his luck. A minute later, he was on the phone with Hawaiian Airlines changing his flight.

Maui Bean was jam-packed with every girl in Pā‘ia but ‘Iwa. Dane found a table for one outside and waited for an hour, trying to look casual as he scrolled through his phone, reading everything he could about a place in Portugal called Nazaré. Big Mama. A foggy coastal town once frequented by pirates, named for a statue of Mary brought straight from Nazareth, the holy land, in the fourth century. Just about every photo he could find online was a different angle of the Forte de S?o Miguel Arcanjo, hovering at the edge of the tall craggy cliffs overlooking the North Atlantic. The lighthouse lantern on the roof of the fort was painted red and sat fifty meters above sea level. Which blew his mind, because in one of the photos, a wave out front seemed to be squaring off, face-to-face with the lighthouse. It must have been the angle, but damn.

Warm summers gave way to wet winters. The time to go was February and March, when massive storms hit, kicking up deadly waves and turning the ocean into a frothy cauldron. According to the fishermen who knew the coast, there was a long and deep underwater canyon, a direct pipeline from the open ocean to the sandy shallows fronting the cliffs, responsible for the monster waves. None of the locals went anywhere near it in the winter. But last year, a couple guys from O‘ahu showed up and rode the wave, and now every big wave surfer in the world was chomping to get there, Dane included. He felt an upwelling deep inside. This was the one to watch.

A small bell on the Maui Bean door announced new customers, and whenever someone entered, Dane looked up, hopefully. Lots of visitors and foreigners, some locals, no ‘Iwa. After an hour or so he gave up, drove to the west side, paddled out into some playful six footers and met up with the boys. Kama was on the inside getting tumbled when Dane caught his first wave.

“Brah, it really is you. I thought I was seeing things on the way out, or else someone had stolen your board,” Kama said, when he finally made it back out into the lineup.

Dane rode mint green boards with brown stringers. His signature. He had a whole quiver of them.

“Me in the flesh. The job got pushed back.”

“By you or Manning?”

“Manning.”

Kama splashed him. “From the look on your face, I’d say you’re not too worried about it.” He then nodded at the set coming in and paddled off.

Dane didn’t catch any waves in the set. He was too busy staring into the water, thinking about ‘Iwa and wondering if he should let her know he was still here. He wavered, because it was obvious she had her guard up. She seemed like a woman on a mission, one who could take him or leave him. But on the beach last night, she had softened some, so maybe he still had a sliver of a chance.

They surfed for a few hours, until Dane was waterlogged and sun roasted. By the time they got out, the waves had dropped and the crowd had thickened. On the inside, a whole contingent of girls sidestepped their way to the front of their longboards, hanging five and ten. Hawai’i had more talent in the water per square inch than anywhere he’d been. The warm water helped.

He waited until five o’clock to pull up to ‘Iwa’s house. A truck was in the driveway, dripping wet. He stopped behind it and turned off the engine, checking himself in the mirror and trying to tamp down the section of hair that always stood straight up.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

The voice startled him. ‘Iwa had come around to his side and was standing next to the truck, hose in hand, woven hat on her head, wearing rubber slippers.

“Oh, there you are,” he said. He looked around for the dog. “Where’s the man-eater?”

‘Iwa turned to him and sprayed his windshield. “Koa is not a man-eater, he’s a big puppy.”

Dane instinctively ducked. “Sorry. Where’s Koa?”

“Dad took him to the beach,” she said, making no move toward him and getting back to rubbing down the truck. “I thought you left.”

“I was supposed to, but my job got pushed back.”

Dane hopped out and picked up a brush from the ground. The rusted rims on her truck were stained brown from the red dirt, and there was so much grime in them it was pointless to even try. But he began scrubbing nonetheless. She kept working in silence for a while.

“Is there something you need, or did you come to help me wash my car?” she said, almost smiling.

“It looks like I’ll be staying another week, so I was thinking maybe you could use more help with your waterfall,” he said.

“Won’t you be surfing the whole time?”

“Not the whole time, no.” He paused. “And I had a nice time with you last night.”

He wanted to say more, but was worried about scaring her off. The words settled between them as ‘Iwa rinsed out the truck bed, hosing out leaves and twigs and branches, rocks and shell fragments. She seemed intent on avoiding eye contact.

“Don’t you have family to go back to?” she asked.

He shook his head. “My dad’s out of the picture and my mom does her own thing, so I’m pretty much on my own.”

No need to mention he hadn’t spoken to his mom in ages.

Her brow pinched up and she finally stopped working. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Dane was used to it by now, but there was still a sliver of sadness attached to it all. In that way that you thought you had removed the splinter but months later, it would emerge unexpectedly, poking a hole in your skin and hurting all over again. That was pretty much his life.

“It is what it is. I was lucky in that regard. My second time to Hawai’i, at Christmastime, I stayed at the Mizuno farm picking berries for pies, digging an imu to cook the pig, scouring the rocks along the shore for ‘opihi , and wrapping laulau . It was the first time I experienced how it felt to be part of a big family. A dream come true for a kid from Ventura with an absentee mom and no other family to speak of,” he said.

“The Mizunos are good people.”

She smiled at him then, a quick flash of perfect teeth.

“What are you doing tomorrow morning?” he asked.

Her hand was on her hip now. “This feels like a loaded question.”

Dane stood up and faced her, so there would be no mistaking his intentions. “Okay, let me rephrase it then. Would you like to do something with me later? Or tomorrow?”

“I work later, and tomorrow. I have a meeting in the morning and I have to cover a shift at Uncle’s after that,” she said.

“How about the next day?”

“I work all week.”

He felt his chances slipping away, so he changed tactics. “I’ll just help you wash your truck then, and be on my way.”

‘Iwa raised an eyebrow. “Sure, thanks.”

“Dish soap and baking soda do wonders on hubcaps. Do you have any?” he said.

“Nah, don’t worry about that. I’m heading out in the field again day after tomorrow so there’s no point.”

“Where are you headed?”

“East side, up mauka .”

“Alone or with a group?”

“Alone.”

She wasn’t making this easy, so he threw out one last-ditch attempt. “Maybe you’d like company?” he asked, then quickly added, “If I were to tag along, I could gain a better understanding of what you’re trying to save, and we could brainstorm tactics. Theoretically, of course.”

‘Iwa walked over and turned off the hose. Her wet shorts clung to her legs and her face glistened, making her freckles stand out. She turned to him. “Theoretically, if you were to come, would you promise not to tell anyone?”

“Theoretically, I don’t even know anyone named ‘Iwa.”

She surprised him by saying, “Sure, why not? Be here at six thirty the day after tomorrow. I’ll text you what to bring.”