The Maui Effect (Man-Made Trilogy #1)

Room Two Twenty-Two

‘Iwa

Dane got hit in the back by his board. He’s okay, but right now, he can’t feel his legs, ‘Iwa . He can’t move them. Is there any chance you can come to Portugal?

Kama’s words haunted her the whole way across the Pacific, in the skies above the continental United States, and freezing her butt off over the Atlantic. She called to check in on his condition on both her layovers. Kama said the surgery went well, but still no feeling, no movement. She couldn’t understand how went well equated to still being paralyzed, but dared not ask.

Before her illness, ‘Iwa’s mother had cooked up a plan of hiking the Alps, cruising the fjords in Norway and drinking wine in Galicia for a month after ‘Iwa finished grad school. Just the two of them. That trip had never happened, and now, ‘Iwa was headed to Europe for a reason she never would have imagined.

This will all blow over. Dane is going to be fine. He has to be.

Walking down the halls of the hospital threw ‘Iwa back into memories of watching her mother fade away. The sound of her slippers on cold tile, those bright photographs of flowers on the walls in stark contrast with patients in hospital gowns being helped down the hallways with their IV poles trailing behind, doing their best to stay alive while the outside world kept forging on without them. Hospitals were places of death, but she reminded herself now that they were also places of new life and healing.

At room two twenty-two she stood to the side of the open door and peered in, half her face showing. Kama sat in a chair next to Dane reading. ‘Iwa steeled herself. He must have sensed her there because after a few moments, he looked up. ‘Iwa waved. He stood, holding a finger to his lips and walking to her. They hugged, long and hard.

“He’s asleep now, but he’s going to be so happy to see you. He’s kind of in and out,” Kama whispered.

Dane was pale and looked as though someone had taken a pin and let all his air out. There was a machine attached to him, displaying his vitals. ‘Iwa went to the side of his bed and watched his chest rise and fall. His eyelids moved and fluttered. Feather light, she pressed her lips against his cheek. It was all she could do to stop herself from climbing into his bed and curling her body next to his.

His eyes opened.

‘Iwa smiled. “Hey there.”

He stared at her. “Where am I?”

“You’re still in Portugal, in the hospital. I just flew in.”

Dane rubbed a hand through his hair. “That’s right. I thought maybe I was on Maui.”

She leaned down, took his rough hand in hers and pressed her lips softly to his. Dane pulled her in, and she rested her forehead against his, nose to nose. He inhaled, she exhaled.

“You smell like heaven,” he said.

‘Iwa had doused herself in Mono? oil in the bathroom downstairs, trying to get the smell of airplane and two days of travel off her skin.

“Nah, just Hawai’i.”

“Same thing.”

“I guess you could say that.”

She had no idea what was to come, and she wanted to stay just where she was for a few moments, breathing him in. When she finally pulled away, she noticed he flinched, and a new look she didn’t recognize passed over his face.

“Did they tell you I still can’t feel anything in my legs?” Dane asked.

A pause that burned her heart.

“Yes.”

Kama, who had been standing in the doorway, said, “The doc keeps saying we have to be patient, that it’s not unusual in this kind of injury.”

Seeing him now, like this, she realized there was no way she could leave him until he was released. “From what I’ve read, this isn’t terribly rare. And I’m here, Dane, we’ll get through this together.”

“I can’t even give you a proper hug,” Dane said, holding tight to her hand.

Her eyes went to his legs, she couldn’t help it. They were under several layers of blankets, spread out, lifeless as dead branches.

“I would lie down with you, but I don’t want to hurt you,” she said.

“You lying next to me would never hurt, I promise you that.”

The door swung open and a nurse came in. “How you doing, Senhor Dane?”

“Better, now that she’s here. Gabi, this is ‘Iwa. The girl I was telling you about.”

Gabi gave ‘Iwa a glowing smile. “He’s been waiting for you. I am so happy you came.”

‘Iwa nodded. “I left Maui as soon as I could.”

Gabi checked the IV bag, tapped down the length of his legs and asked if he felt anything.

“Nada.”

‘Iwa stayed with him all day and into the evening, giving Kama a break. Dane slept a good portion of the time, but even when he was awake, he didn’t say much. Whether from medication or the reality of what he was up against, she had no idea. Hope came and went, bringing food and magazines, and later in the afternoon, Yeti arrived with a ukulele in one hand and a box of steaming coffee cups in the other.

‘Iwa perked up at the sight of the familiar instrument. “Where did you find that?”

“It’s a braguinha, not a ukulele.”

She remembered then that Portuguese immigrants from Madeira had brought their instruments to Hawai’i in the late 1800s. Here they were, nearly eight thousand miles away, and Yeti was holding a forefather of the ukulele.

He held it out. “They’re almost the same but tuned differently. I went on a treasure hunt to find this thing, tracking all over Lisbon. I finally found it in a tiny music store downtown. Then when I heard you were coming, I had it tuned for you.”

She glanced over at Dane, who suddenly seemed interested. She strummed a few times, getting a feel. “Name your tune.”

His eyes cut through to her heart. “You need to ask?”

The opening riff to “Sweet Child O’ Mine” was tricky on the ukulele, but no one here would be complaining. She moved close to the bed and sang quietly. You’ve got eyes of the bluest skies... Her throat was dry from airplane air and crying. She slowed the song down, imagining herself back at Uncle’s on day one of this crazy journey. Her eyes never left Dane’s.

When ‘Iwa was done, he patted the bed next to him. “I don’t care if they kick us out or arrest us, come lie with me.”

Yeti said goodbye and ‘Iwa eased herself onto the hospital bed. She went hip first, made herself as narrow as possible and lay on her side facing Dane. Even now, he still smelled of ocean and kelp and sea otters.

“I hurt,” he said.

“I hurt for you.”

She felt the density of his predicament in her own legs, if that was possible. Maybe it was from all the travel or maybe it was because she felt connected to him in a way she’d never felt before—with anyone. At that moment, looking into his tired and glassy eyes, all uncertainty fell away. Only love was left.

“I’m sorry, ‘Iwa, for not coming to Maui for your fundraiser. I wish I had, and not just because this wouldn’t have happened. It was a shitty thing to do.”

She pressed a finger to his lips. This close, she could see a groove in his brow and the beginnings of sun lines around his eyes. “Apology accepted.”

“I promise it won’t happen again.”

“We don’t need to talk about it now.”

“I just want you to know,” he whispered.

Within seconds, Dane was asleep.