The Maui Effect (Man-Made Trilogy #1)

The Search

‘Iwa

‘Iwa and Winston reached the trailhead at first light, racing up the mountain along with the sun. At noon, they reached the rocks where she had crossed the stream above Waikula the day before. She gave him detailed instructions on how to find the clearing where she had last seen her phone. They were both dressed in camouflage gear, and after watching Winston quickly dissolve into the foliage, ‘Iwa retreated back from the stream and leaned against a koa tree with a wide and weepy canopy. Off Jones’s property.

Ten minutes passed. Then ten more. The area shouldn’t have been that hard to find. ‘Iwa listened for voices, praying Winston had not been met by Clancy, or fallen into a booby trap of some kind. In the old days, on Mauna Kea, the paniolos used to trap wild bulls by digging deep holes and covering them up with branches and brush. Unsuspecting bulls, or bullocks as they were called, would fall into said pits and die there. After yesterday, she wouldn’t put it past Jones to do something like that for anyone who got in his way.

Just when she was about to go looking for him, Winston came rock hopping back her way. ‘Iwa ran to the edge of the stream, seeing that his hands were empty.

“Did you find it?”

He smiled wide. “Got it, it’s in my pack.”

“Were you able to see anything?”

“Either the battery’s dead, or the phone is.”

There was no phone charger in her truck, so they drove straight to her house, plugged it in and waited for it to charge. ‘Iwa made a plate of dried aku and poi, and they ate in silence, filling their worn bodies with sustenance. Koa circled around them like a tiger shark, drooling for handouts. A few minutes later, a sound came from her phone. Winston stopped chewing and ‘Iwa ran to it. A photo of Haleakalā dusted with snow appeared, with the time, 4:40 p.m.

“It still works, thank God,” she said.

‘Iwa swiped through her photos and pulled up the video of the kiwikiu. Winston hunched over her shoulder, and she swore she could feel the emotion coming off him. They played it a second time, this time zooming in on certain sections. Not only could you tell the birds were kiwikiu, this was some of the best footage of them ‘Iwa had seen.

“You done good, girl,” Winston said.

Coming from him, this was high praise.

‘Iwa sent the video to Winston’s phone, backed it up on her computer, geotagged it and then shared it with their attorney the following morning. They crafted letters and called the media, effectively launching an all-out war against Jones’s project. A day after that, ‘Iwa had four interviews lined up with local newspaper and television stations. One even wanted to put together a documentary on the birds and Maui Forest Recovery Project’s work.

Meanwhile, the courts did not move as fast as the media, and their legal paperwork got bogged down in an already crowded system. Jones jumped on the lag, and started his own campaign, using slick advertisements touting his eco resort as sustainable tourism . A load of crap if there ever were one. He had the audacity to turn things around and use the kiwikiu as selling points. But he failed to mention that aside from avian malaria, loss of habitat was one of the main reasons for the bird’s decline. Birds depend on forests as much as forests depend on birds and he was already primed to tear down their home.

Auwe.