Kai dipped his chin as if indicating that she should read the marker and draw her own conclusion.
CHARLES A. LINDBERGH
BORN MICHIGAN 1902
DIED MAUI 1974
“IF I TAKE THE WINGS OF THE MORNING
AND DWELL IN THE UTTERMOST PART OF THE SEA …”
“Charles Lindbergh? The famous aviator? He’s buried here?”
“You’ve heard of him, then?”
“Of course.”
“He came to Hana to live out his days in peace. My mom always says she wished that whoever put this verse on the grave marker would have finished the whole verse.”
“Do you know the whole verse?”
Kai nodded. “I took it on as my life verse about five years ago. It’s from Psalm 139. ‘If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost part of the sea; even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me.’”
They could hear Joel and Maile laughing from where they had wandered over to the far side of the grassy expanse. A picnic table awaited revelers under a gathering of palm trees. Joel and Maile were acting out a sword fight with two dried palm fronds that had fallen to the ground. Beyond the picnic table was a chain-link fence that marked where the property apparently took a plunge to the ocean below. All that was visible from where Carissa stood was the expansive blue sky smeared with a few long, pale white clouds.
Kai kicked at the small rocks at the base of the grave marker. “I didn’t tell you what my addiction is.”
“You don’t have to. I think it’s really brave of Joel and Maile to speak up the way they did, but my husband says it’s not always helpful for a person to let his struggle name him.”
“Well, I don’t let the addiction I’ve struggled with name me, but I also don’t have any problem naming it. It’s sexual addiction, your husband’s area of expertise.” Kai held up his hand. “And before you get embarrassed or try to cover up anything you said back in the van, you should know that everything you said was dead on. I wish I had known your husband about twenty years ago. I think I would have had a different life. I know my wife and daughters would have had different lives.”
Carissa felt like she should say something, but she was too stunned and trying hard not to show it. It was the same feeling she had when she first watched Irene offer up her morning worship and Carissa realized she could be considered a Peeping Tom. It was also the way she had felt when she had sat in Dan and Irene’s car in the empty church parking lot and she realized she had been the one who had abandoned God, not the other way around.
This time the chagrin was over the fear she felt when she thought about being around Richard’s clients. On the night of the prowler, those deeply embedded fears had exploded and left her afraid to be alone at home, even though the house was equipped with alarms, locks, security lights, and a husband who vowed he was protecting her.
Yet here she was, by herself, in a remote area of a faraway island, and she had willingly traipsed off into the dark last night with a man who just told her he struggled with sexual addiction. For all she knew, Kai could be a predator. A pedophile. A convicted sex offender. He was the very sort of man she had insisted Richard protect her from.
Yet part of the reason she had made the journey all the way to the campground was because she was allowing herself to play with the idea of leaving her marriage. She had let herself consider “what if” she fell in love with Kai.
Carissa felt the need to sit down. She knew she had to say something in response to all that Kai had shared with her. Oddly, the only thought that came to mind was Irene’s words: “Everything is redeemable.”
Kai nodded. “That’s what my mom likes to say, too. If it weren’t for God and his extreme grace, I don’t know what my life would be like now. I’ve been clean eight years. No convictions for inappropriate conduct, but all the stuff that’s out there, so easily accessible, it’s poison. But you know that. When I hit a really low point, I caved and started using it just like your husband said, as a drug. My wife wouldn’t forgive me. She left, took our girls, and I just got worse after that.”
Carissa wondered if Irene’s wisdom to “stay” in a marriage had come from watching her son go through so much pain.
Kai drew in a deep breath and rounded back his shoulders. “Like I said, eight years clean. Your husband said it takes five to break the cycle, right? I think I’m there. I’m doing well. Really well. But I’m doing life without my wife and girls. I wish I hadn’t messed up so bad, and I wish she could have stuck it out.”
Carissa nodded. She was taking all this in—Kai’s words, his pain, his humbled heart. For the first time since Richard had begun counseling men who struggled with sexual addiction, Carissa understood. Men like Kai were worth saving.
15
“Hola maika’i e pule ai!
Nau wau e hoohauoli mai
E mau me au a hiki mai
Ka hola a’u e waiho ai.”
“Sweet hour of prayer! Sweet hour of prayer!
Thy wings shall my petition bear
To him whose truth and faithfulness
Engage the waiting soul to bless.”
THAT EVENING THE CAMPGROUND was packed with weekend revelers. Their group now consisted of twenty-six people and three dogs and had turned into a carnival, complete with kites, horseshoes, and children’s contagious laughter. Music blared from the campsites to the right and to the left of theirs. The dogs scrounged between the lawn chairs where the aunties were all lined up, chatting and calling out directions to the boisterous children and the circle of men, who stood around eating the spread of food that appeared on the picnic table.
The experience was completely different from the night before when the five of them had gathered at the table and talked story by candlelight. Tonight the meal was an ongoing feast, with interesting dishes that kept appearing.
Carissa tried a little of everything. Her favorite was the pulled pork, or kalua pig, as everyone called it, like the kind Mano had picked up at Da’ Kitchen that first day. She tried some of the pungent bits of pink salmon that Joel told her was lomi lomi, and of course, Tony insisted she try some of the poi his wife brought in a small plastic bag.
“Like this.” Tony opened the bag, inserted his first two fingers, quickly drew the gray, pastelike glob to his mouth, and said, “You try it.”
She repeated his actions, only retrieving a dab of the goo and swallowing it before her mouth could ask what she was doing to it. With a long swig from her water bottle, she nodded her head and let her eyes convey to Tony that she thought it was “grrrrr-eat!” even though she could think of nothing in her life that had ever felt or tasted like that. She wasn’t sure she needed to try any more.
As it grew dark, several camping lanterns were lit, and everyone pulled up a chair to fill in the circle. The stories that unfurled were mostly personal recountings. Everyone seemed to have a memory about someone else in the group, and each person took delight in telling the story with humor while the object of the tale took the friendly roasting in stride. The group had a great feeling of warmth and closeness. Carissa could see why Irene would want to come here twice each year to keep up this tradition.
For a while Carissa thought she had managed to remain invisible in the wide circle, but then the two teenage boys from the pool decided to talk story about their escapade that morning, and how they had to push one of the aunties out of the water.
“Like this.” One of the skinny boys stood and used both hands with his palms open and his face demonstrating heroic exertion. “And we pushed and out she went.”
The chuckles around the circle were good-natured.
Carissa decided she didn’t mind being included in the story-telling. No names were uttered, no fingers were pointed. A young boy got to brag about his manners and his prowess. It was a good evening all the way around.
The trek to the outhouse was a different experience that night as well. While Carissa waited her turn for
the facilities, two guys invited her to join their party at the far end of the campground. They told her they had lots of beer.
Carissa wanted to laugh. Obviously they were either too drunk to get a good look at her, or she was standing where it was too dark for them to see how old she was. All she said was, “Thanks for the invitation.” They went on their way, apparently in search of more agreeable fellow revelers.
It took longer to fall asleep that night because of all the merriment going on around them.
“Are you still thinking of leaving early in the morning?” Irene asked from her side of the tent.
“Yes. Is that okay?”
“I’d like to go with you. Kai wants to stay longer, but I have to go back tomorrow because I travel to Oahu Monday.”
“Is that for your lecture at the school?”
“Yes. I’m so tired tonight I can’t imagine going to Oahu. But I didn’t want to miss this.”
“I can see why you would say that.”
Irene didn’t say anything for a few minutes. Then Carissa heard her name being called out softly from Irene’s cot. “Carissa, would you consider something?”
“Okay, what is it?”
“Well, I was thinking how much I enjoyed the swim with you today. It was such a lovely moment, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, I loved it.”
“I was wondering if you would consider coming with me. I’ll buy your plane ticket. It’s only for the day. You can see another island, and I would very much enjoy your company. You’re a lovely woman, Carissa.”
Carissa wasn’t sure she wanted to give up an entire day to travel with Irene. Maybe Irene couldn’t travel well alone and needed an assistant.
What am I thinking? I watched this woman navigate her way to the waterfall today! That was something even I wasn’t sure I was brave enough to try.
“Sure,” Carissa said. “I’ll go with you.”
“Good. You sleep on it. If you change your mind, perhaps I’ll ask Mano.”
Carissa smiled in the darkened tent. Now the little dearie definitely was playing her. Both of them knew that Mano wouldn’t make the ideal traveling partner in a small plane to a school filled with teenagers. He would look like her personal bodyguard or bouncer.
“Good night, Irene.”
The clever auntie giggled. “Good night.”
The two of them were up at first light. Irene was joined by one other auntie in her contemplative morning praise with arms outstretched to the heavens. Carissa started to pack up Irene’s belongings, but then Kai emerged from his tent, ready to head to the falls for a morning dip and convinced her to leave everything. He said he would take it all back for Irene.
With his voice low so as not to disturb the others in their camp who had stayed up far too late under the stars, he said, “Thanks for taking my mom back.”
“It’s no problem. I was planning to leave this morning anyway.”
“It’s been good having you here. I’m glad you came.”
“Thanks for inviting me. I can see why all of you love it here. I would have missed so much if I hadn’t come.”
Kai leaned over and brushed an aloha kiss across her cheek. “Next time you come, bring your husband. I would like to spend some time with him.”
So would I.
Carissa raised her palm to wave as Kai turned and headed toward the trail to the waterfalls. She realized the truth of her thought. She missed Richard.
Carissa had lots of time to sort and organize her thoughts about Richard on the long drive back to Kihei. Irene convinced Carissa to return the way she had come rather than go the longer and winding way.
“I’d prefer to go that way. We’ll stop at the Kaupo Store to see Linda.”
The Kaupo Store, similar to the ranch general store across from the up-country winery, was smaller and seemed to double as a museum for a variety of old items. As Irene chatted warmly with the shop’s owner, Carissa took a self-guided tour of the shelves that displayed dusty old radios, vintage photographs, and rusted cooking utensils. If she hadn’t felt like she had been in old Hawaii already, this stop would have done the trick.
Irene bought several fresh papayas, a faded postcard, some cans of iced green tea, and two frozen candy bars. Carissa selected a lei-style necklace made from delicate tiny shells and two paperback novels from the rack of books pertaining to local interests.
Linda hugged both women and sent them on their way with “aloha nui loa,” which Irene said meant “much love.”
As Carissa hit the gravel road, she said, “You really can feel the love and closeness of friends here. At least I feel that way around you and everyone you know. Everyone shows such a sweet respect for each other.”
“That’s the aloha spirit.” Irene’s voice came out jiggly on the bumpy road. “Dan says it wasn’t their idea first, though. The blueprint is right there in the book of First Corinthians. ‘Love is patient and kind.’”
Carissa was familiar with the chapter. “We had that portion read at our wedding.”
As if Irene hadn’t heard Carissa, Irene kept quoting what were apparently her favorite parts. “‘Love does not demand its own way. Love is not irritable, and it keeps no record of when it has been wronged.’”
Carissa ventured another, “Yes, I know the verses,” in an effort to stop Irene, but she kept going. “‘Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance. Love lasts forever. There are three things that will endure—faith, hope, and love—and the greatest of these is love.’”
Then, because Carissa didn’t know any other way to respond to Irene’s triumphant conclusion, she added a spontaneous, “Amen.”
“Yes. Amen and amene.”
Those were the last words Irene spoke until they arrived back in Kihei, as if she didn’t want to distract Carissa from her driving. Carissa navigated the bumpy terrain with less anxiety just having Irene silently keeping her company. Once they reached the smooth road, Irene nodded off, and Carissa drank in all the parts of this area she had enjoyed on her drive up the side of the volcano the other day. Maui was certainly an island of contrasts. She loved it here.
They were back at the house by noon, after leaving the campground shortly after sunrise. It felt luxurious not to have to unload or clean up any of the camping gear. Carissa made her way to the quiet little bungalow waiting for her, tucked away behind the banana trees. Instead of going inside, she sat in one of the high-backed rocking chairs on the front porch and eased her way into civilization.
When she had first arrived, Carissa had pictured herself spending long hours sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch reading or stretched out for days on end on one of the chaise longues on the back patio. So far she had read only a few chapters in one book out of her stack. She hadn’t done nearly as much napping as she had expected. Now, with only a few days left, she wished she hadn’t agreed to go to Oahu in the morning with Irene.
Pulling her cell phone from her purse, she saw the battery had gone dead. No surprise. Unlocking the front door and going inside, Carissa plugged in her phone and went around opening all the windows to let in the welcoming breeze. She drank a tall glass of iced tea from the refrigerator and went to the shower, where memories of the waterfall shower from the day before came back to her when she closed her eyes.
As she lathered up the shampoo, she thought through all that had happened since she had arrived. Everything seemed purposeful. Directed.
What was it that Dr. Walters said when he told me to come? Something about how God would meet me there or that God was already here.
She thought about how Dr. Walters’s words had been accurate. Back at home she had dreamed in the hammock that she was drifting toward a desirable haven. Now, during her visit here, she knew her shipwrecked life had floated toward a place of peace in her own spirit. She wasn’t there yet, but she could see the desired cove more clearly than last week, when everything seemed to capsize at once.
&nbs
p; Fresh from the shower, dressed in clean clothes that didn’t smell like organic mosquito repellent or smoke from the grill, Carissa made a bite to eat and took her partially recharged phone out to the back patio. She stretched out on the padded lounge chair and listened to her voice messages.
The first one was from her mother. “I hope you know that Heidi and I are trying very hard not to be too jealous of you. We wished you had let us know about this free condo you were given for the week because she and I would have come with you.”
Carissa bit into a baby carrot and murmured, “And what a different trip this would have been!”
Her mother’s voice concluded her wee-bit-woebegone message with, “Before you leave I hope you have one of those fruity drinks with a little paper parasol. As you drink it, think of your mother, who hopes she gets a chance to go to Hawaii someday.”
“Sorry, Mom. I do hope you get to come. But I’m so glad you didn’t come this time.”
Carissa deleted the message. She noted that her mom didn’t say anything about Carissa’s job loss. Somehow her conversations with her mother focused more and more on what her mother needed or was going through and less and less on Carissa’s life. She didn’t know when that life shift had happened. Probably it had come gradually, like most of the other shifts in her life.
At least she didn’t tell me I needed hormone therapy, the way Heidi did.
Her next voice message was from the dentist, reminding her of her six-month cleaning appointment on Monday. Carissa returned the call and left a message that she couldn’t make it and would have to reschedule. It took everything within her not to add: “Because I’m in Maui and won’t be home by then.”
The next message was from Richard. “Hi. I’m at my hotel now and was hoping you could talk. I know you said you might not have service. Listen, Carissa, I have to say, I’m not quite sure what to do with our situation. I’m not tracking with you. The fact that you said you’re camping …it’s not adding up for me. That isn’t like you. So I guess I just need to ask the hard question. Did you go to Maui to meet up with someone? Are you having an affair?”