The Maui Effect (Man-Made Trilogy #1)

In the Clouds

Dane

On a windswept bluff, they sat under a tree with flapping waxy leaves, eating mac nut butter, banana and honey sandwiches on fresh sourdough ‘Iwa ’s dad had baked the night before. ‘Iwa produced several liliko‘i she’d picked at the start of the trail, cut them open with a Leatherman, and squeezed their juice into the sandwich.

Dane was still mostly covered in mud and sticky with sweat. “So where is your waterfall from here?” he asked.

She pointed. “Two valleys over, at the edge of that high plateau. See the gulch?”

“Is it as hard to get to as where we are now?”

“Harder. Hana‘iwa‘iwa is the most difficult to reach watershed in the area,” she said.

Not only had they swum across ponds and crossed the stream seventy times, they’d had to scale a hillside and then travel along a one-foot-wide trail with a several-hundred-foot drop on both sides.

“Define watershed. You keep using that word, and I’m embarrassed to say I don’t know exactly what it means,” he said.

“It’s an area of land where all the rainwater collects into a common outlet. Here, it starts in springs and streams and then flows to the ocean. The beauty of a forested watershed is it works like a sponge. Roots, moss and an underground network of fungi form an invisible reservoir that holds the rain for future use,” she said, brushing her hair away from her mouth so she could take another bite of her sandwich.

‘Iwa seemed to be tolerating him—just barely. Dane had apparently asked too many questions while they were supposed to be counting plants, but he couldn’t help himself. There was just so much to take in here.

“And the eco resort would be on one side of the valley?” he asked.

“Yeah, it runs from the stream all the way over to that next ridge. We found out yesterday that he’s hired a notoriously questionable firm to do his Environmental Impact Statement, so chances are they’ll find no issues with his project,” she told him, with a faraway look in her eye.

“It’s about more than just Hana‘iwa‘iwa, isn’t it,” he said gently.

She gave him a sad smile. “The land is our grandmother, and as such, she deserves to be treated with respect. All of it.”

Just then ‘Iwa grew very still. Dane followed suit, though he wasn’t sure why. Then, a flock of tiny yellow birds descended on them, filling the tree overhead like feathered ornaments. The birds chirped and warbled to each other for a minute or so, then took off for another tree. Their miniature wings made a distinct whirring sound.

“What were those?” he asked, when it was safe to talk again.

“Maui ‘Alauahio. They’re endangered, like almost everything else up here.”

He let her words sink in, then said, “Thank you for bringing me with you today. I know I’m probably more of a bother than a help, but I feel like I’m sitting here in an enchanted forest.”

“You are.”

“Tell me more about Jones. How much you know about him?” Dane said, struggling to keep up.

“I’m not sure when he came here, maybe twenty years ago? On the outside, he’s a very dapper and charming guy, and talks a good talk, but I would never trust him.”

“What else has he done here?”

“Are you familiar with Hanameli Bay?”

“The hotel?”

She flinched. “It wasn’t always a hotel, obviously. It used to be the most beautiful and peaceful cove on this whole side of the island. It was Jones who put up the hotel. My mom and her friends fought it, as did so many people, but he got it pushed through. He’s smart and slick, and puts on a good face, makes like he cares about Maui but he doesn’t. That hotel made him rich and yet he still wants more. He did a few projects on the Big Island, and now he’s back.”

“So you’re following in your mom’s footsteps.” Her fight now made even more sense.

“I guess you could say that.”

“She must have been an incredible woman.”

He envied her. Two parents who she clearly thought the world of.

“She was.” ‘Iwa sat quietly for a moment, then added, “Not only was she talented and smart, but she was really good at seeing the big picture. Jones had a lot of people convinced he was going to do so much good here. Give people jobs and support the community and offer beach club memberships. He was going to make nature better , or something dumb like that. My mom and her friends could see through him.”

“Did he make good on any promises?” Dane asked.

“Of course not. A few people got jobs, but he imported a lot of his workers and paid them poorly, and his beach club memberships were too expensive for anyone to afford. Then we also had to fight for beach access.”

“Sounds like a real winner.”

“He’s stream slime.” She looked past him, then hopped up and held out a hand. “We should get going, the clouds are moving in fast.”

Dane took her hand and let her pull him up. They gathered all their gear and started off down the mountain at a good pace. A few minutes later, they were running. They made it partway down the narrow ridge—and still had a few more to traverse—when the clouds caught up, a cool blast of white silently smudging them out. Dane could barely see his own feet. A good thing ‘Iwa was wearing a red hat, or else she’d have vanished, too.

“Reminds me of being in the redwoods back home when the fog rolls in,” he said.

“I should have seen it coming.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” he said.

“Getting lost.”

He could think of worse things than being lost up here with ‘Iwa.

“We won’t get lost, then.”

“It’s easier than you think in this kind of fog, and trust me, if we get lost up here, we are screwed. I know people who have disappeared and others who’ve spent days going in circles. So, stay close.”

Her voice was muted and faraway. Fog distorted sound, as anyone born and bred on the California coast knew. It reminded him of his mom. You have to rely on your animal senses, and feel the waves coming before you see them. The ability is in here already , she would say, tapping on his salty head as they stood on the beach, pulling on their stiff, secondhand wetsuits and getting ready to paddle into a white void.

She had been right, and he credited her for his sixth sense in the ocean. She may not have been a good mom in many ways, but she forged in him an inner strength—the kind of scrappiness a boy can only learn when he has to depend mainly on himself, and the idea that above all else, the ocean was a sanctuary.

Memories like these burned in the hole Belinda had left in him. Moms were meant to be counted on, and if you couldn’t count on your own mother, who could you count on?

“Dane?”

He could hear ‘Iwa’s voice, but couldn’t see her.

“Be careful, we turn down the switchback here...oh wait, this isn’t it,” she said, as the fog swallowed her words.

“Wait up, I’m losing you,” he called.

A minute later, he almost walked into her. She was holding something and she reached out to him. “Hold out your hand. I know this seems weird, but it’s our fog protocol.” She tied a narrow rope around his wrist, her palms cool and clammy. “There, now we can’t get separated.”

He started to imagine finding a dry cave and having to keep her warm overnight. But his little daydream was sorely interrupted when he slipped and fell on his butt again. When he got back on his feet, ‘Iwa turned them around. This time he led, and they followed the narrow pig trail back the way they’d come.

“Look carefully for the main trail. We can’t have gone far,” she said, tension in her voice.

He stopped. “Maybe we can do your chant again. Ask the forest for help?”

‘Iwa almost bumped up against him, and this time, he reached out for her hand. Right now, this felt like the most natural thing to do.

“I like it,” she said, close enough to kiss.

E hō mai...

In the clouds, her voice came from all directions. Dane joined in where he could, remembering a few lines from earlier, and following her lead. As they stood on this remote ridge in a blinding whiteout, chanting words as old as the wind, he swore he felt a shift in her. She leaned in closer. He gripped her hand tighter. She gripped back.