6.1   "After the Storm" (cont'd)

All the rest of that day, and for days to come, Lower Puna would be in a state of clean-up. The County trucks came out with equipment and tree trimmers, and locals all pitched in to help clear the roads. Where there was electricity, the electric company came and took down fallen lines and toppled telephone poles.

Kam worked clearing the driveway until around three in the afternoon. Along with the guts of the big D8, it took the collective energies of all four of them – Kam, Prudence, Matthew and Lau Lau – to clear the endless debris off the roadway.

Last to be dealt with was the front gate.

“That’s a big fucker,” Lau Lau said of the tree that made Prudence’s front gate pau.

Kam didn’t want to push the tree because it would take out the posts, which were cemented into the ground and, upon first glance, didn’t appear to have been compromised.

“Nope, they’re gone,” said Lau Lau. He wiggled one of them like a loose tooth. “Gonna have to reset them.”

“Might as well,” said Matthew. “She has to put in a new gate anyway.”

Prudence looked dejectedly upon the scene. “That’s what work is for. Thank heavens I’m covering for Solia this week.”

Kam dozed the fallen trees and branches into the edge of the jungle.

It wasn’t what you would call an attractive solution, but it was fast. It got the job done. In time the lumbering corpses would rot into the ground, turning chaos into good soil. New trees, unexpected ones, gingers and who knows what else would rise and create a whole new tapestry of earthen splendor along the drive. Life was change and constant transformation – sometimes subtle, sometimes egregious.

Kam drove the dozer back onto the trailer then drove the whole arrangement down Ohalani Road to the lower driveway’s entrance. He backed the trailer onto the unfinished road and drove the dozer off, leaving it near the bend before the road bore into the jungle.

Prudence came out from the bathroom. She was dressed in a house dress and drying her hair with a towel. “What do you think I should call it?”

“Call what?”

“The new driveway down below.”

“I don’t know.” Matthew was decidedly disinterested. His arms were tingling, their muscles vibrating with the memory of running the chainsaw all day long.

“I want to update my flyer so people know there’s a private driveway to the cottage.”

He looked at her suspiciously. “How about you call it the private driveway?”

“Hm.” She walked into the middle of the room. “Did you shower?”

He nodded his head yes. (He liked showering in Pru's outdoor shower. Unlike his, which was a nozzle attached to a water pipe sticking out of the bare ground, Pru's was surrounded by scented shrubs and greenery.)

She came to the sofa where he was slouched, checking his phone. “Pensive much?”

He looked up at her. “Willow called.”

“What did she say?”

He shook his head. Noncommital, avoiding.

Grimly she instructed, “At some point you have to talk to her.”

He set his phone down with annoyance. “You don’t just go and wreck somebody’s peace and quiet by showing up out of the blue. Especially with their baby.”

“True.”

“She’s a great kid but that’s the problem: she’s a kid. She’s maybe 20 years old. And now she’s got her own kid, which she didn’t me to be any part of. Which is ok, I guess. But it’s kind of twisted, too.”

The two girls were sitting on the sofa in the communal lounge. “I told him I wanted to have a baby but I didn’t want a husband. Or boyfriend. I wanted to raise the baby on my own.”

As Pualani listened to Willow, she drew her legs in beneath her. She found it odd and slightly uncomfortable that a girl her age would give up her life like that.

“He was pretty understanding, I guess. We had an agreement before he moved to Hawaii that after he left I would do whatever I wanted to do and he would do whatever he wanted to do, and the baby would just—for him—not exist.”

“Interesting.” Pualani thought to herself, My God, what if Kyle had gotten me pregnant. What on earth would I do? She started counting days in her head, just to be sure.

“I hope he’s not upset,” continued Willow. “I didn’t think he’d see me if he knew I was coming. I thought about emailing him but—. It’s better when you don’t think about things too much. Just confront them head on without giving the mind games time to start interfering. You know what I mean?”

“So if,” Pualani twirled her hand around in the air, “he didn’t want the baby and you did, and you both sort of agreed to that, and the relationship is officially over…how come you’re here?”

“Because Noby isn’t the end of things. He’s the beginning. And I really want Matthew to know that I’m ok, and that Noby’s ok, because I know he cares. I also want to know that he’s ok. I probably ought to apologize because what I wanted was selfish and I’m sure I hurt him a little bit…Ultimately, though, I want him to see the output of his effort.” She looked admiringly at the child in her arms.

“Well. I know Matthew but unfortunately I don’t have his phone number. Otherwise I'd give it to you.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay. Don’t worry, I have it.”

“You do?”

“Mh-hm. I met his friend Prudence; she gave me a ride, actually. I was hitchhiking from town and she picked me up.”

“Oh.”

“She’s a nice lady.”

“Yes.”

“She texted Matthew and gave him my number.”

“Did he call?”

Willow shook her head. “He texted: Hi. This is kind of weird. Unexpected. Something noncomittal like that.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Understandable. I imagine he’ll come around, though. If I know him the way I think I do.” Willow stood up. She wanted to go for a walk along the grounds. “Thank you for spending time with me,” she said. “This is nice. My first full day in Puna and I feel like I’ve made a friend.”

Pualani got up as well. The two girls left the sitting room and walked outdoors. Willow headed east, toward the Red Road and the ocean; Pualani headed west, toward her room. Just as Pualani was passing the dining hall her phone vibrated in her hand and beeped out three cheery notes like wind chimes. Eager, and a bit trepidatious, she stopped along the path. Her heart fluttered; she could feel it. That was the Rinpoche’s ringtone.

On her screen flashed a message in small white print: Car is at end of red road. Namaste. Safe journeys always. Yours, K.

She didn’t know how to respond: a mere thank you? Or glad you made it out? What about screw you? Probably he’d been out of cell phone range – on the road. Driving. Sleeping off the weary night. Resolved that she ultimately cared about him, and that she wouldn't allow the past few months to be for naught, and believing that he hadn't kissed her goodbye because he was in a panic, she fumbled with the phone and typed eagerly:  where r u?!

It took an anxious minute or two for the reply: Who dis?

It’s me pualani !!!!!

She waited.

Waited.

She walked a circle in the dust of the path then made a u-turn and headed back in the direction of the dining hall, where the reception was better.

The phone chimed its pleasing three beats. Pualani's heart lifted again. She looked at the screen and her world collapsed back into bits: Who dat?

Next Episode 6.2 »

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Thanks to Mat Mercury and Nicki Conti for contributing pics from the aftermath of Hurricane Iselle.