Haole Wood (17 page)

“And on the other hand?” came a voice from the passenger seat.

I wrenched the steering wheel. “On the other hand, I’m out of hands. I’m hallucinating the world’s worst excuse for a guardian angel. Do I need therapy? Do I need to see someone?”

“Honey-Girl,” he said, “you are seeing someone. Me!” He boomed his chortling laugh as my hands tightened my grip on the wheel. I pulled up and stopped at the light.

“Do you mind? You’ve got to stop this. Go away and leave me alone. Please.” I raised the palm of my hand, as if to shut out the sight of his face. Over my guardian angel’s shoulder, a hand waved from the car next to us. The driver in the vibrating rusted Nova next to me thought I was talking to him. That’s right. I was the crazy one. Only I could see this monstrous blob haunting me, sitting in the passenger seat beside me.

“Hey, Sister. I wasn’t doing anything,” said the other driver. “What’s your problem?”

“Sorry,” I called over to him. “I was just talking to myself. Bad habit.”

“Whoo-ee, you want to talk about bad habits,” said the old Hawaiian, revving his rusted bucket of bolts, “I could show you much better ones than that.” He wiggled his eyebrows in what he must have thought was a come-hither way. Maybe it was, once upon a time, say forty years ago.

Go yonder, I tried to telegraph back and repel his come on by looking straight ahead. “No thanks,” I spit out of the side of my mouth.

“You have got to relax,” my guardian angel said. “If you are still counting problems you better move on to your other foot now, and face problem number four. You like Dr. Jac.”

I shot him my look that I perfected years ago as a teenage girl responding to the asinine stupidity of the embarrassment known as my parents. It was a powerful expression, containing traces of evil, hatred, sorrow, misery, martyrdom and contempt, with a soupcon of go eff yourself. “Can you at least make the light turn green?” I asked him, staring straight ahead. The guy in the Nova wouldn’t stop leering.

“That I can do,” he said, raising his hands and aiming them at the stoplight. He lifted his head, frowned and muttered some sort of incantation under his breath. After about 15 seconds the light finally changed to green. “Voila,” he said bowing his head toward me.

I peeled out. “You did not make that light turn green. I could have done that. And I probably could have made it change faster.”

“Exactly!” He beamed at me. “You are finally getting it. You have all the power. You can do it. With that, I bid you aloha.”

“Wait!” I reached over to grab his arm and got nothing but a handful of humidity. “You forgot to tell me exactly what I’m supposed to do with all this power.”

“Grandmother! Halmoni!” I ran in the house. “Look.” I pulled out the money. “Six hundred dollars! Here, this is yours. If you want, we can be partners. The hotel said they would let us sell sunshminas in their lobby by the waterfall, with the other artists and vendors. What do you think?”

“Not that,” Halmoni said. She smiled and pushed the money back to me.

“I insist. You did all the work. This belongs to you.” She held up her hand and turned and went back into the kitchen. I followed her.

“Halmoni, I am not taking this money. But, we could start a business. People love these sunshminas. We can sell them. Jac is even testing the fabric to figure out what the sun protection factor value is. We could market it as upscale resort wear, with SPF. This is really cool, Halmoni. There are so many things we could do with this, hats, shirts, skirts and stuff. I’m thinking of calling the line Hollywood Haute. I marqueed the name with my hands as I said it.

“Why do you think that’s so funny?” I took her hand and led her back to the bedroom. “Look at all this material. If you teach me, I can help you. We could really do something special here. What do you think? Do you want to? Do you understand one word I’m saying? Hollywood Haute,” I said again, rubbing my hands together.

“Not that,” she said.

I wonder what she thinks I’m saying? I went to call my parents to bring them up to date and heard my grandmother fire up the jeep and leave. “She’s out on bail for now,” I told my mom. “But it’s still a big story and I know the police are keeping a close eye on her. Her attorney says he hasn’t heard of any other suspects.”

“Jaswinder.” My dad sounded like he had a hard time spitting it out. “Do you think, I mean, does she, could she . . .”

“Dad. Zip it. Don’t even think it. I barely know this woman, but I know one thing. There is no way she could have or would have done this. She did not murder anybody. Period. Geez.” Sometimes I really wondered about my own parents. Who are these people?

“Calm down, Jaswinder. Sorry. You’re right. I feel so far away.”

Because you are so far away, I thought.

“I have been imagining the worst,” he continued. “We just don’t know what is going on and hopefully your mom and I can come out next week.”

“Tell you what, Dad, hold off. Let’s see how things go. I will let you know. You and mom just take care of each other for now, get better and I will give you updates. She’s fine, I’m fine, and there’s nothing you guys could do anyway.” I couldn’t get off the phone fast enough.

It wasn’t long before I heard the front door screen slam and the sound of women’s voices. I went down the stairs to see what was going on.

“Aloha
,
” said the leader of the muumuu pack, while the others in lower voices agreed, “Aloha
.
”

“You must be Jaswinder,” the Hawaiian woman continued. She wore a red print cotton dress and looked like she could have been the mother of a car dashboard hula girl. She folded her arms and let me know who was boss while my grandmother stood back with her hands clasped, smiling. “Your grandmother here told us about your little idea and rounded us up to help. We’re all good workers. We’re seamstresses. I’m Lois, this is my daughter Shayna.” She pushed forward a thin, young brown-haired girl. She had a wide nose and the plump face of a teen on the brink of puberty, or hell. I caught a flash of her large teeth, with nearly imperceptible scalloped ridges, and it wasn’t because she smiled.

“Hi,” Shayna said, looking like she perfected a pretty good fourteen-year-old teenage sneer herself.

Lois continued. “This is Mary One, Mary Two, and Maria,” she waved her arm, the wobbling skin below serving as a rudder as the other women all said hello again. My grandmother beckoned them all back into the bedroom.

“So let me get this straight,” Lois said as they all shoved into the tiny room. “You can’t sew.”

I shook my head. “Sorry.”

“You can’t draw.”

Head shaking commenced again.

“You’re not a designer.”

“Nope.”

“Yet you want to start a clothing line?” Lois was pretty, but boy did she have the Hawaiian stink eye perfected.

“Let me explain. This tourist,” I began. “Wait, I’ll just show you.” I ran to the living room and grabbed my sunshmina. “I call it a sunshmina, you know, like those cashmere pashmina shawls that all the stars used to wear? Feel this fabric. It’s heavenly. And look at my skin.” Ten brown eyes, 12, if you counted Halmoni’s, stared at me. “I know I’m getting over a terrible sunburn, but this totally protects me from the sun.” I put it on and twirled around. “It’s so pretty and I’m telling you, I actually feel cooler in this.” I had to make them understand. “Come with me. Let’s go outside.” I made it to the back door with no one following me. I went outside anyway and stood directly in the spotlight of the noon sun, cuddling my sunshmina. They weren’t coming. They thought it was stupid. The work force grandmother assembled wasn’t buying what I tried to sell. I guess it was a farfetched idea. I heard the screen door.

“What are you doing?” Shayna asked, her knobby elbows jutting out from her folded arms.

“Come out here.” I said. “Just put this on. See how it feels. You need to know this is something really special. Almost magical. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Shayna dragged the tops of her feet in flip-flops over the grass, walking to me like she was entering math class on the day of the algebra final. I knew that move well. Subversive insolence, ah, one of my favorites.

“Come here.” I smiled as I tossed the wrap over Shayna’s shoulders. “There. How do you feel?”

“Like a dork.”

“Pfft. The sun is hot today. How does this feel on your body? Can you feel the sun?”

“Guess not.”

“You look pretty in it, too.”

Shayna didn’t have to say it but I heard it anyway, “So stupid.”

The screen door creaked as the other ladies made their way outside. “I want each of you to try this on, right here, out in the sun and tell me what you think.

“You’re gonna pay us, right?” Lois said.

“If we can all work together, we’ll all make money. First things first. I want you to want to do this. Please, try it on.”

Pursing her Hawaiian lips, Lois took the wrap from her daughter and put it over her own shoulders. Her brown arms crossed and rested over her stomach. “Now what? What am I supposed to be feeling?”

I sighed and took the wrap back and put it on myself.

“
Nani ka wahine
,” said Mary One or Mary Two. I couldn’t tell them apart.

“What?”

“They think you’re pretty,” Shayna said.

“Oh. Thank you.” I nodded and smiled.

“So, what’s your deal?” Shayna asked. “Do you have a business model? What’s the plan?”

“Well.” I felt my eyes blink blink. Live-shot time. Pretend I’m on TV and work it. “This all happened suddenly and unexpectedly.” Some might call it a train wreck with destiny. “You might call it serendipitous.” I forced my hand, which made a fist and crept up toward my mouth as if it were holding a microphone, back to my side. “As you can see, I have really white skin.” They all laughed, even though they did cover their mouths. “I got sunburned and my grandmother made me this wrap. I love it. It looks great, dresses up any outfit and goes with just about anything. The bonus, it keeps me shaded.” I flung my arms wide holding the ends of the wrap, its jade beads clanking. “I have research working on clinical trials to see what the sun protection factor is.”

“Dr. Jac’s buddy is checking it out,” Lois told the others.

I smiled. Nice how everyone knows everything on this island, except for who killed Mike Hokama. “Yes, he is. So, what do you think?”

“
Pali ke kua, mahina kea lo
,” Lois said as the women laughed. I stood there clueless.

Shayna shook her head. “They’re teasing you about Dr. Jac. ‘Back as straight as a cliff, face as bright as the moon,’” she translated. “That’s an old Hawaiian saying for hot guy.”

I cleared my throat and clapped my hands. “Back to business. I think there are a lot of ways we can market these sunshminas, and I think there is a real demand, but I need to know if you all are interested in being a part of this. It may go nowhere,” I added. “There are no guarantees.”

“Girl,” Lois said. “If you keep talking so much your tongue is going to get sunburned.” She plopped her hands on her ample hips and gave a little hula swagger. The women laughed together. I pressed my lips together. Lois rubbed her palms together. “I’m the supervisor,” Lois said. “Your grandmother readies the fabric with kukui nut oil. We sew it. You sell it.” Lois pointed her finger at me.

“Fair deal,” I said. “We’ll work out payment after our first weekend and come up with fair wages.”

“One more thing,” Lois said. “Shayna is the designer.”

Shayna jutted out her lower jaw, daring me to disagree. I swallowed and gave out an “Okay.” What did I have to lose?

Lois turned after a final stare down with me. She turned to Shayna and shook her head. “There but for the Grace of God go I.” Shayna laughed and they all trooped back inside.

“Shayna,” I said. “Wait a minute. How old are you?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Seeings how you are going to be the designer of my clothing company, I think I need to know that, you know, for my personnel records.”

“I’m fourteen, going on fifteen. Yes, I can draw. Can sew too, if I feel like it, which I usually don’t.”

“Have you ever . . .” I felt foolish going on, picturing a young smiling version of Shayna playing with badly stitched felt outfits, dressing her dark-haired Hawaiian Barbies. “Have you ever designed clothes before?”

“Have you?” she asked.

“Well, I guess we have our work cut out for us,” I said, not answering her.

“Relax, boss.” Shayna turned and stomped up the porch steps.

“Wait,” I called out again.

“What?”

“You probably heard about the,” I paused. “Mike Hokama—”

“The murder? Of course. He’s our cousin.”

“Your cousin? I am so sorry. Were you close?”

Shayna teetered her hand up and down. “We’re all cousins. Besides, he was an asshole. Even though he didn’t deserve that.”

“No, he didn’t. And I’m sure they’ll find the killer. It’s just such a shame.”

The screen door slammed behind Shayna. My mission felt impossible.

Just as the trade winds began to usher in Maui’s summer season with constant breezes that should have helped keep me calm, cool and collected, I felt the fine hairs on the nape of my neck prickle, as if Kona winds instead blew stormy skies to swamp me.

I followed Shayna and the others to the back bedroom. It really stung to be on the receiving end of Lois’s pity. How pathetic did they think I was? How would they ever listen to me or work for me if they didn’t respect me, and what I could offer. What could I offer again?

“What’s the plan?” Lois asked.

Trying to prove I had it together, I started babbling once again. “We’ll start with the sunshmina pattern. It’s quite simple. If you all can get twenty sewn by Sunday morning, I will sell them at the resorts and have a better handle on our production schedule.”

What should I pay them? There were five of them, I could do fifty dollars a sunshmina and let Lois divvy it up? I made the suggestion as if I were back in San Diego announcing a cool front moving in offshore, and Lois bought it. That would give me and my grandmother two hundred fifty dollars for each one sold. I couldn’t imagine selling all twenty, but if we did . . . oh boy. Five thousand dollars. Well, less than half that after splitting profits with the hotel.