Willy yelled something.
I managed to work my right arm out from under the poncho and claw my way toward him, now almost into the throat of the canal, where the riptide screamed into the ocean.
Willy stepped into the water and reached out and grabbed my hand, his eyes bulging. He pulled too quickly, and our hands slipped apart. I clawed air, trying to get back to him. Willy reached and reached, stumbling ahead. He fell to his knees and caught my hand. I swung in an arc to shallower water, my suffocating poncho dragging me under.
But Willy held on and pulled me out.
The two of us staggered up and stumbled away from the canal, tripping and falling. I started gagging, then crying.
We sprawled in the sand up near the trees, the wind howling in my ears, snapping through my tangled, sand-caked hair. I was shivering so hard I could hardly breathe, rocking and weeping silently.
“You okay?”
Willy shouted, even though he was right next to me.
I nodded.
My throat stung from swallowed mud and sand. I could feel the scratch of silt trapped under my eyelids.
“Let’s get out of here!”
Willy said, pulling me up.
We split up when we got near our street. I didn’t say a word to him, not even thanks for saving my life.
I staggered home, burst into my room, and ripped off the poncho with trembling hands. I threw my clammy jeans and sweatshirt in a wet lump on the floor by my dumbbells, then wrapped myself in my blanket and sat on the lower bunk, still shaking, staring with blank and burning eyes at a swarm of ants already hauling off the rotting centipede parts.
Later that day
I skulked around the house. Mom didn’t seem to see the fine grains of sand that were stuck to my scalp. I don’t think she even noticed how quiet I’d become or caught the shock I saw in my red-veined eyes every time I looked in the mirror.
But Stella did, studying me as if she knew something had happened but wasn’t sure what.
I sat apart from everyone, out on the lanai under the overhang, watching the trees sway in the jungle beyond our backyard.
Mom came out and sat next to me in a sagging white-and-yellow vinyl chair. For a while we didn’t speak or even look at each other.
Finally Mom said, “Will this weather ever end?”
I shrugged.
My brain was numb, and Mom seemed a thousand miles away.
“Joey . . .”
I waited, staring at fat raindrops bouncing in the giant mud puddle under Darci’s swing set.
I turned when Mom didn’t go on.
“Do you . . . do you see any wrinkles around my eyes? I mean, have you noticed any?”
“Wrinkles?”
“Or gray hair, have you noticed any of those? Because I found one last week.”
She paused. “Am I getting old?”
I studied her profile, lingering on her smooth, perfect face, her long hair tucked back over her ear on one side, falling like golden brown silk on the other. She hardly looked out of high school. “You’re not old, Mom,” I whispered.
We sat watching the rain, saying nothing. I wondered what Willy was doing. I was feeling kind of embarrassed now for what had happened.
I jumped when Mom spoke again.
“Are you sure I’m a good mother?”
“What?”
“Because I’m trying, Joey.”
“I know, Mom.”
“I’m really trying.”
Aumakua
Kailua-Kona, Hawaii.
Massive black sky. A zillion pin-prick stars sweep up and over the island. The moon is five hours gone and the morning birds have yet to gather.
Seventy-six degrees and no breeze. Not a whisper.
Jimmy Smith and Rats Aoki, both seventeen, wait in the early-morning darkness for a truck to take them to the pier. They sit on the rocks along the old coast road, a dark and peaceful sea lapping at their feet.
But for the whispering water, it is dead silent. No cars have come or gone since they walked there from their dusty homes just inland. Its the third week of their summer job.
They talk quietly.
Hey, Jimmy. You like hear one awesome story?
About what?
Okay. Had one boat, ah? Sampan. Was
loaded
.
Wait wait wait. This a story or is it true?
True. My uncle told me um when he came our house last night.
Oh. Okay go on.
Like I said, had this boat and was
loaded
.
With what?
Tst, I getting to that. Shuddup . . . Okay . . . Was coming home from five, six days fishing out past Kauai. They was bringing back
ahi,
yeah? Hundred, hundred-fifty-pound kind.
Ahi,
the yellowfin tuna.
I know whats
ahi.
Whose boat?
I dont know. One guy, thats all. Anyways, there they was, loaded. The boat way down in the water, couple feet from the rail, ah? And it was rocking and rolling and hoo those guys on that boat was coming nervous, specially when they see the straight clouds coming in the sky. You know, straight from the wind, yeah? Sign of bad weather.
Yeah yeah, bad weather.
Not getting bad by the boat yet but coming bad outside by the horizon. Can you see it?
What?
Can you
see
it?
See what?
The straight clouds, the bad weather, the . . . Why I even try talk to you I dont know.
Come on, Rats. Tell the story. Tell it.
Tst. Just try to see what I saying, ah? Aint that hard. Okay, was fifteen guys on that boat, twelve Asian guys—new guys from Vietnam or Korea or Laos, I dont know, someplace like that. But anyways, also had two Hawaiian guys and one bossman who was the skippah. Local guy. Maybe Japanee. Anyways was his boat. The rest of them just working for him.
You just making the bossman Japanee because you Japanee, yeah, Rats?
Jimmy, I going slap your head you dont shut it up.
Kay-okay, just joking for crying out loud.
Maybe I aint going tell you this. Stupit haole.
I was
joking
I said.
Jimmy waits, but Rats just sits there. Out on the ocean a small yellow light bobs in and out of view. Night fisherman. Jimmy spits.
I know why they call you Rats. When you was born and you came out and your mama saw your dingaling, she said,
Rats!
I was hoping for one girl.
Thats good, Jimmy. You made that up all by yourself?
Yeah cool yeah? Okay, so this loaded sampan was coming home. All the holds was full with
ahi
and pretty soon the wind was picking up and the ocean was coming rough and had swells coming from the side and was making that boat rock and roll and those guys was getting nervous. Then what?
Okay if you going shut it up I tell you um. You going shuddup?
Yeah yeah, what happened?
Okay. One of the Hawaiian guys, he went up to the skippah and tell, “Skippah you gotta dump some fish. Look the clouds. Going get bad. We too heavy. We could capsize.”
He said that to the skippah?
True. And the skippah look at him and tell back, “I da skippah on dis boat and if you tink I going dump couple tousand bucks of fish you crazy and also if we did need dump um den I make dat decision not you.”
Whoa, and then what the Hawaiian guy said?
Nothing. What he can say? Aint his boat, yeah? So he just went back and got more nervous with the rest of the guys who was all watching the clouds and the swells and smelling the wind.
Ho man,
they thinking. The Hawaiian guy, he looking for land, yeah? But no can see nothing. Then little bit later one guy saw um. Small blue mountaintop coming out from the sea. Was Kauai, ah? Way off. Probly about fifteen miles.
Yahh! That far and the storm was coming.
And the storm was coming.
Ho! And the skippah said he aint dumping no fish.
Uh-huh, and the guys waiting around and the wind picking up and the boat rolling more worse and by now they nervous as rats, so the Hawaiian guy go back to the skippah. Tell, “You gotta dump some fish, man. We going
capsize
!” And the skippah tell the guy he going get arrested for mutiny if he dont shut up.
Mutiny?
He can do that?
I dont know. Anyways thats what my uncle told us thats what he said. So listen, now all those guys thinking, man man
man
! The Asian guys really soaking their pants now because most of them no can swim, yeah? And the sky turning, coming dark, and could smell the storm in the air. You know how you can do that, smell um? But the one thing is they can see Kauai. Pretty soon they see um little bit more, little bit more. They going closer, ah? Now most of the island stay up out of the ocean so at least they had that, the land. At least they could see land.
Yeah but they still way out.
Who telling this, you or me?
You telling it, Rats. You da man. Go on.
You making me mad you know?
How come you so jumpy today? You had one fight with Janelle last night or what?
How you knew that?
I didnt.
Then why you said it?
I dont know. Cuz you so pissy?
Stupit haole.
Hey.
Rats throws a stone into the sea.
A rooster crows, somewhere way off.
Over the mountain behind them the sky begins to lighten.
You like hear the rest of it or what?
Sure. Go ahead. All the guys was scared.
Yeah and so now the ocean coming
intense,
yeah? All those Asian guys get
mempachi
eyes, all puff out like bubblefish. They scared that boat going flip. And of course the Hawaiian guys worried too because they
know
there going be trouble because now the swells was coming from the side and getting more big and more big and now even the
skippah
was getting nervous. But still he aint going dump no fish. He like the money, ah? But he bring the boat around so the bow going into the swells. Forget trying to make land. Now he thinking he going ride um out, let the storm pass. The bow going up the swell and down the behind side until the next one take um up again. But the thing is . . .
The next ones stay coming more close now.
Yeah they coming more close,
boom, boom,
one after the other, and that bow going higher each time it climb because of the swells getting bigger.
What about Kauai? Could they still see that?
Yeah probly but now had clouds coming all over the sky. Getting hard for see and all those poor buggahs was hanging on to whatever they could find on that boat to hang on to. Up and down and up and down. Pretty soon they going up up up way up, then
ka-boom,
down the other side.
Boom! Bam! Slam!
A
nightmare.
Man I glad I wasnt on that boat.
You dont know how glad you going be till I tell you the rest of it, Jimmy.
This one great
story
man. You really think its true?
Sure its true. My uncle aint no liar. So that sampan going up then down then up then down till finally one last time that boat come down and
foomp!
Never come back up.
Yai-yah!
The bow went sink in the next swell. Went
under
the swell,
under
um. When it come back up . . . the boat was capsize.
Ohhh God. Upside down?
Of course upside down. What you think capsize means?
So the guys was where? In the water?
No, they was home in bed watching TV, you stupit haole. Of course they was in the water. So now had all these guys trying to swim and trying for grab on the boat, and the hull of the sampan stay looking up and was all green and slippery and nobody could climb on top um. So you know what those guys did?
Uku
smart, them. They took off their belts and put um together two by two and threw um over the keel and one guy got on one side and another guy got on the other side and they pulled themselves up like that till they was sitting on the hull or hanging on it by their belts.
Jeese!
And they was
fif—teen
miles from land.
Thats a long swim.
Yeah but they no can swim, yeah? Even the skippah. But that aint the worst of it.
No?
No. The worst of it was all that fish in the hold. Now that the boat was upside down all those hundreds of fat bloody smelly dead tuna was now falling slow motion out of those holds and spreading out in the sea . . . under the boat. Slow and slow, drifting down . . . down. Can you see it?
Yahh.
I don’t think I want to hear any more of this.
You guessed it. Sharks. Oceanic white tips. Came like wolfs. Travel in a pack, yeah? Attack and eat anything they see. They dont care what it is—fish, cane trash, coconut, soda pop can, even one truck engine if was down there. Anyways Uncle said had twenty, thirty, something like that. Was me, I would be pass out just to see those fins swirling around making whirlpool water. Even now I can feel my legs in that ocean and I wasnt even there. Aaahh.
Creepy.
I dont want to hear it.
Silence.
Waves lapping.
A dog barks. One, two arfs.
Headlights down the road, somebody slow-driving toward them. Rats looks that way.
But not Jimmy.
So what? The sharks ate those guys?
I thought you said you didnt want to hear no more.
Yeah but you cant stop now, Rats.
The headlights are now nearly upon them.
The driver takes his foot off the gas, and when he does, the headlights dim.
Brakes squeak, slowing. Their ride.
Jimmy and Rats stand and brush off the backs of their shorts, and the truck stops in the middle of the road. Two other boys are in the back, Willy Mombouguette and Felix Kalama, both a year younger than Jimmy and Rats. Rats stretches, yawns loudly.
The driver, a man they call Boss, leans out.
Whachoo waiting for? Breakfast? Get in the truck, arready!
Rats and Jimmy climb over the tailgate.
Willy and Felix reach out to slap hands with Jimmy and Rats. Rats grins.
Whasamatta? You look tired. Too early for you small kids? Still like sleep?
Rats settles down with his back to the cab.
Willy and Felix look at him. Jimmy elbows Rats.
So, what? The sharks ate those guys or what?
Okay where was I. Yeah. The sharks. Well they didnt care about those guys, oh no, not when they got all that Christmas falling out of that boat. Can you imagine? What a
feast.
Those white tips start scarfing um down, blood making the ocean come brown, whirlpools, whitewater, fins, and bloody meat and man that place was a
feeding
frenzy.
Willy and Felix wake up now.
Rats looks right in their faces and says again,
feeding frenzy,
and their eyebrows pop up.
Jimmy shudders.
Man, Rats, make my skin crawl just to
think
about it.
Must have been a
night
mare.
No kidding, brah. Those Asian guys was fresh out of piss. But not those Hawaiian guys, not them. They was thinking, when those sharks
pau
all that free food, then they going come get us and they not going stop until every last bite of us is gone.
Yeah but wasnt everybody up on the hull? Out of the water?
Sure but still had rough ocean, yeah? The hull was rising and falling and rolling just like before, but now was upside down remembah. Those guys was out of the water one minute then under it the next, hanging on by those belts.
God.
God wasnt there that day. Oh no. So the two Hawaiian guys know one thing is for sure: they aint going live if they stay like that. So you know what they did? They left the boat.
What?
They told the skippah they going swim to Kauai for get help.
Not. You couldnt swim through those sharks.
Yeah but those Hawaiians knew something. You see, they went check the water, look at those sharks, see what they can see and what they saw was one shark wasnt eating, was just cruising around by the hull, his eye looking up at them.
Whoa.
Spooky.
The two guys watch that shark, watch it and watch it, and finally one guy nod his head. Yeah, he said, yeah. He recognize um, yeah? Was his aumakua, come to help him. He recognize that shark by the markings.
What you mean? He recognize the shark?
Was his family protector. His relation. Hawaiians got that, you know, spirit protectors. Some are lizards, some are owls, eels, dogs. And some are sharks. And this guys one was shark, and man was he relieved to see it.
Nah. You believe in that superstition?
Are you kidding? Of course I believe in it. You never heard shark aumakua stories before? You never heard about the one live at Pearl Harbor?
No.
Thats cuz you haole, why you dont believe it. But whether you do or dont its true. So anyways, what they did was they know those bad sharks stay busy now, eating good fish. And they know had that one protector shark to watch over them. So one guy went lie on top the other guys legs in the ocean. Like this. Made it look like they was one big man, or one big thing. Maybe a log or like that. Ten feet long. Then they started to swim through the feeding sharks with that one good shark swimming by them. Slow and slow. Careful not to stir it up, yeah? Not making whitewater. Just moving their arms. Steel nerves I tell you. Guts.
Nuts you mean.
No. Not nuts. They believed, they believed. So they swam. And lissen to this if you think its superstition: they
made
it. They made it through the pack of wild crazy sharks. And then they broke up and swam. Swam swam swam. All day and all night. Swam all the way to Kauai. And made it.