The Maui Effect (Man-Made Trilogy #1)

A Hui Hou

‘Iwa

Pe’ahi

Even when we know someone is going to die—say, a very old person, or someone long sick and suffering—when they actually do leave this world, we still don’t feel ready. It creates indelible fractures in our being. And those who go on living question how life can be so ugly and so beautiful at the same time. There are places we go where we can almost feel their heartbeat, where the veil between here and there is thinner, and where memories live and breathe.

Just after sunrise, ‘Iwa and Dane and Eddie hiked down the cliff at Pe’ahi carrying two longboards and a paddleboard. Isla and Koa led the way, running ahead and then circling back as if to say, hurry up, you slowpokes! Isla had been so excited to see them when they had returned from Portugal, she would have climbed inside of Dane if she could have, so they brought her to Hawai’i with them. Koa latched onto her like a baby brother, even though he was five times her size.

The ocean had lain down calm as a blue mirror for the occasion. The red dirt path was hard-packed and slick from recent rains, and more than once, ‘Iwa almost slid out. But Dane was there to steady her. As she moved downslope, she thought of the passing of time, and how it doesn’t erase the pain, but it patches and soothes and glues back what you thought may be broken forever.

She wore nothing but a yellow one-piece swimsuit and a lei around her neck. Made from Kauna’oa , a gold-orange thready vine that had once been a gift from the Hawaiian goddess of fire, the lei had been commonly worn by Hawaiians of old on the seashore. Eddie and Dane both wore maile . Mountains and ocean both represented.

Under a slack blue and cloudless sky, they reached the boulder-strewn beach at the bottom. Eddie set down the paddleboard carefully on the rocks, with that familiar clunk of fiberglass, and ‘Iwa and Dane did the same. Her father took her hand and she took Dane’s and together they let out a long, slow exhale. This was going to be hard but also beautiful, and made lighter by all of the blessings that had happened of late.

Not only had Dane survived the acid drop, acres of water and crushing lip at Nazaré, but the wave had allowed him to prove to himself that he still had it in him. That he was stronger than fear. And Leandro had performed some photographic magic, with Forte de S?o Miguel Arcanjo in the foreground and Dane looking so close, he could have stepped off the wave and onto the cobblestones. The rock walls and red lighthouse gave scale, and the pictures caused a sensation in the surfing world. Measuring from trough to crest, this wave was the largest wave on record anyone had paddled into.

Today, there were no waves, and after a short oli , they paddled out over coral heads and followed a sand channel to where the waves broke during a Code Red swell. Isla rode on the front of Dane’s board barking whenever she got splashed. Koa hunkered down behind Eddie on the thick and wide stand-up paddleboard, the two of them so heavy it wobbled badly. No matter, they were in no hurry.

“Hard to believe there’s ever a wave out here, let alone one of the biggest in the world,” Dane said.

‘Iwa glanced over at Eddie, who caught her look. “Mom used to say the same thing.”

Until last week, ‘Iwa had been carrying with her something she had never told Dane. The memory had felt too personal, something private between her and Eddie. But as the second anniversary of her mother’s death drew near, and they were planning how to honor Lily, she thought it time.

“There’s something I haven’t told you,” she’d said one night as they watched a burnt ochre sunset from the beach at Ho’okipa. “About my mom.”

Dane squeezed her hand. “I don’t expect to know everything about your life, ‘Iwa, that will come in time. You know that.”

“This is kind of important. And special.”

He shifted his body so he was facing her. “Then I’m all ears.”

“After Mom died, I scattered some of her ashes at Waikula. But we also scattered some at Pe’ahi—those were the two places, mauka and makai , she wanted us to remember her at,” she said softly. “In the summertime, she loved to swim there. Not the easiest place to get to, and I used to whine to no end when I was younger and she would drag me down the hill, but it seems so worth it now. And it feels like this crazy intersection of endings and beginnings.”

Dane nodded. “It does.”

“I wish you two could have met,” she said, wiping her eyes.

Dane put his arm around her and brought her in close. “She knows me, ‘Iwa. And I know her. She lives and breathes in you, can you not see that?”

They watched the first star appear in the sky, a tiny pinprick of light, and then another, until the whole sky was a throw net of twinkling stars.

Now, as they paddled through the blue glass water, ‘Iwa felt her mother’s presence all around. When they neared the break, Eddie triangulated so they knew exactly where to be, where they had released the ashes that stormy morning two years ago. All ‘Iwa could hear was surfboard lapping on water. Dane lay next to her, glowing in the morning sun.

Eddie looked toward shore. “It feels like she just went off after a turtle or something, and should be joining us any minute now.”

“It does,” ‘Iwa said.

His lip quivered. “I miss her.”

“Me too.”

He took off his lei and held it skyward. “You hear that, Lily? It’s not the same without you here. Never will be.”

Eddie then threw the lei into the water, at the same time Koa fell off and started dog paddling around. ‘Iwa slid hers off and tossed it. Dane flung his, too, then stood up and did a back flip off his board. He swam down to the bottom and came up with a handful of sand. ‘Iwa was in the water now, floating with her arms draped over the board. He set some of the sand in front of her on the board.

‘Iwa smiled.

“I’ve seen that same smile in all the photos of your mom. It lights up the world,” he said.

‘Iwa nodded, unable to answer.

Eddie moved closer. “You have her spirit, too. Her voice, her love of this island. And you’ve always been a little bit kolohe . You got that from her not me,” he said with a laugh.

“Yeah right, Dad, that’s all you. And don’t forget her bony knees and freckles. And need for alone time. How she’d always disappear into the woods on her own.”

He sighed. “I could spend all day listing the ways.”

Koa circled around him splashing with his giant paws, now joined by Isla. Eddie helped both dogs onto his board then came over and handed off Isla to Dane. ‘Iwa dove down and grabbed some sand, brought it up and opened her hand, watching it sink to the bottom. Bones of coral and fish and all manner of creatures—ashes of the ocean.

A lazy current pulled them farther out, to a ledge where the bottom dropped off. They were sitting on their boards, soaking up the sun in silence, when Dane went stiff and said, “What was that?”

‘Iwa looked down in time to see a dark shape far beneath them, moving toward the inky depths. He paddled over, grabbed onto her hand and pulled their boards together. Whatever it was, it had been big.

“Dad, hold on to Koa,” ‘Iwa said, tucking both her feet under her on the board.

They scanned the water around them. There was no sign of movement, no disturbed surface to show a school of dolphins anywhere nearby. Tiger sharks frequented these waters, so it wouldn’t be unusual. Then, just beyond, where the lei still floated, an enormous charcoal-colored dolphin came up for a breath.

“Dolphin!” they all cried in unison.

The dolphin made a few more passes, swimming below them and around them, almost as though circling and rounding up fish.

“I wonder where its pod is?” ‘Iwa said.

“Right here,” Eddie said, holding his arms wide. “Her pod is right here.”

Dane and ‘Iwa dove in and swam around, watching as the dolphin darted this way and that, fast as a bullet. That was when she knew without a wave of doubt—there is a power in the universe greater than we are.

A hui hou.

Until we meet again.