Authors: Alaya Dawn Johnson
She'd had a furious barrage of questions prepared for when she managed to find her daughter again, but seeing her shivering in the doorway, looking so bewildered and inexplicably elated, she found she couldn't say any of them. Instead she stood up and fetched a towel.
"You smell like fish," Leilani said as she wrapped the warm, faded rag around Lana's shoulders.
"I was standing in a pond," Lana said, as though that explained everything.
Leilani sighed. "Take off your clothes and lie down. If you go to sleep now you might get an hour of rest before you have to go back to work."
Lana never told her mother about that night, but in the days that followed she found herself growing gloomy and distracted. She lost her appetite. Working at the launderer's sapped all of her energy, and the fumes irritated her throat so badly that sometimes it hurt to eat. Leilani was so exhausted after work herself that she rarely noticed how little Lana was eating. Which was just as well, as far as Lana was concerned. There was something bothering her mother-she could tell that much, but Leilani refused to speak about it. She would come home close to midnight, her eyes red and puffy. Lana worried about her, but in a distant sort of way. There were so many more things to worry about, these days-it was easier to work mindlessly, and forget about her other problems.
Kapa wrote them a letter, finally, that arrived two weeks after the night Lana spent in the garden pond. It came on market day-the only day off either of them had all week, when people traditionally went to the bustling market fair at the Eastern docks. They were both exhausted, however, with barely enough energy to talk to each other, let alone explore the market for items they couldn't possibly afford. Leilani slowly stood up when someone knocked on the door.
It was the landlady, holding a thick, folded letter.
"This just came on one of the trade ships. From Essel," she said.
A look of barely suppressed excitement came over Leilani's face. She thanked the woman profusely and took the letter in shaking hands.
The pitying look the lady gave her mother just before she closed the door made Lana inexplicably nervous. Had her mother been acting strangely lately? She just looked tired to Lana, but maybe there were other signs that she had been ignoring.
Leilani sat back on the floor and broke the seal.
"Is it Papa?" Lana asked.
Leilani gave her a tight smile and nodded. Despite her rush of excitement, part of Lana couldn't help but wonder if even being all together again would solve their problems. It would never be like it was back on the island, and in her heart, that's what she wished for the most, however childishly. But even "not as good as before" was better than now, with her endless, painful labor over the vats. They had been here for two months, and already the island seemed like a fairy tale of someone else's life. She had her memories of happiness, but the sensation was impossible to access-as though the steam and lye had burned it away.
"What ... what does he say?" Lana asked, vainly trying to keep her voice calm.
The paper crackled as her mother's hands started shaking uncontrollably. She rested them on the floor and put her head between her knees. When she lifted her head a moment later, she looked as though she wanted to cry, but her eyes were dry. Lana's breathing grew rough.
"We have to stay, he says. At least two more months."
So there would be no escape from the vats tomorrow.
Two more months.
The old lady hadn't come in for the past week. Lana stooped over the huge stone basin for dark-colored clothes and stirred it with a wooden paddle twice her size. She was more profoundly exhausted than she had ever been in her life. Even the smallest movement of her back sent daggers of pain shooting down her legs, but she hardly noticed that anymore. She worked in a strange haze, forgetting to eat, unable to think-concentrating only on getting through the next second. Lana took the paddle out of the water and settled it against the wall. She staggered back from the tub a little and tried to straighten her back. The effort made tears spring to her eyes, and she collapsed against the nearest wall. What was wrong with her? Her back had never hurt this much before. She started to hobble to the bleach vat, but had to stop when a sudden coughing fit overcame her. This sort of thing had happened before, but she was usually able to control them. This time, however, the coughs were deep and explosive, searing her lungs and her throat until she was doubled over with the pain of it. Globs of rose-colored phlegm fell from her mouth onto the tightly packed dirt floor. The old woman was gone. There was no one else around to hear her call for help, but she struggled to yell anyway, sinking to her knees with the effort. Her head pounded each time she coughed, and the viscous, salty mucus coming from her mouth began to look bright red. She collapsed, watching the blood-streaked phlegm sink into the earth as her world went dark.
A boy, out of breath and clutching his hat in his hands, appeared on the dusty wooden step outside the lounge. He was too young to be a customer, Leilani thought as she tapped the used ashes out of the hookah pipes. She wondered if he might be a young sailor, but his hands weren't rough enough. Even at that age, a few months out at sea made all sailors develop a set of unmistakable calluses. She stared at him curiously as Heluma, one of the other hostesses, approached him.
"What do you want, boy?" she asked, wiping her forehead with a rag.
He fidgeted with his hat a little. "I have a message. I was told a woman with a daughter who works at the launderer's up in the northeast district should be here."
"Hey, Lei, isn't that you?" Heluma said, but Leilani had already stumbled up from her chair and ran toward the boy.
"What happened to Lana?" she asked. Her heart was beating frantically.
"She collapsed in front of one of the vats. The doctor told me to fetch her mother."
Leilani closed her eyes briefly, then turned to Heluma. "Tell the boss what happened. I have to go."
Heluma nodded and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry about it."
Leilani nodded and then ran back inside to get her bag.
"I'm sure she'll be okay, Lei," Heluma said before Leilani left.
Leilani didn't say anything, but she prayed as she followed the boy through the narrow city streets.
The doctor, a stout man in the traditional gray embroidered robes of his profession, made her sit down and take some tea before he would discuss Lana's condition. She waited impatiently-she had seen Lana sleeping on a cot in the infirmary, but still worry gnawed at her stomach.
"To be perfectly straightforward, your daughter is very sick." His voice and manner were calm, as though he were discussing something of significantly less importance. Leilani's breath caught in her throat. "I don't know how long this condition has persisted, but she is clearly exhausted and the chemicals at the vats have irritated her throat and lungs to a point near poisoning. She has, at the moment, a dangerously high fever."
"Is she dying?" Leilani's throat felt strangled as the words left her mouth.
He pursed his lips. "I've seen much worse cases come through. There is a medicine I could provide that would probably guarantee it-especially regarding the situation with her lungs and throat-but it's quite expensive. I get it exclusively from a trader on Kalakoas and it is very difficult to come by." He looked at Leilani's second-hand attire appraisingly. "I'm afraid it may be above your means," he said.
She felt pins of anger in her chest. "Don't make assumptions. How much is it?"
He raised his eyebrows. "A week's supply, in her condition, would cost around a thousand kala."
Leilani felt herself shaking and tried to stop. A thousand kala was more than she made in a month at the lounge. Barely that much money remained from the small stash that she had brought with her from her home island. But this man seemed to be telling her that Lana was dying. She would simply have to find some way to get the money, no matter how difficult it was. For now, at least, she could pay for the first week.
"I'll come with the money later this evening, for the first week's supply." Her voice shook as she said it, but she knew it couldn't be helped.
The man looked surprised but nodded after a brief moment.
"As you will. For now, let's get your daughter home."
Some men from the infirmary carried Lana home on a piece of heavy canvas stretched between two poles. As they neared the docks, one of the men tripped over something in the road, and Lana nearly tumbled off.
"Be careful!" Leilani snapped. The man muttered an apology and adjusted his grip on the wood. Beside him, a woman in a heavy yellow cloak whom Leilani hadn't noticed before bent over and picked something up from among the littered seashells on the main road.
"I think this is hers," she said. Her gravelly voice made Leilani oddly uncomfortable. She leaned in closer to see what the woman held. To her surprise, she recognized the bright azure mandagah jewel that Lana had harvested during her initiation. Why had she been carrying that with her? Leilani had always thought that she kept the jewel in her trunk.
Leilani forced a smile. "Why, thank you." She took the jewel back and put it in her pocket.
"I hope your daughter recovers. It takes a special person to harvest a jewel like that."
The woman's tone was almost acquisitive, but her smile was sincere enough. Leilani forced herself to be civil. "Oh," she said. "Are you a diver?"
The woman gave a dry chuckle and shook her head. "No, no. Just a connoisseur."
And with that, the woman gave Leilani a brusque nod and seemed to melt back into the crowd. She stood still for a confused moment, and then, shaking her head, followed the men back to her apartment. She ran up the stairs when they reached the boarding house and rolled out a sleeping mat. She tried to make it as comfortable as possible, but she was painfully aware of its insufficiency. How could she have allowed this to happen to her daughter? Tears ached in her throat, but she forced them down. One of the men picked Lana up and settled her in the bed. After the men had left, she allowed herself to cry for half an hour. Then, she put a pitcher of water and a glass by the bed and went to get the money. Clutching the bit of twine heavy with strung-together stone coins, she left to give away all of their savings for a chance to save her daughter's life.
Lana came to very gradually. The bed felt familiar, but she couldn't remember how she had gotten home.
"Mama?" she said. Her voice was a scratchy whisper, and even that small sound made her throat feel as though some animal was clawing at it. What had happened? Suddenly, she remembered the coughing fit and collapsing on the floor. She felt horrible, like she might pass out again at any moment. She lifted her head a little to see if her mother was there and then fell back on the pillow, exhausted. She was alone. Her mother had left some water by the bed for her, but she wasn't sure if she had the energy to drink it. I must be sick, she thought. She certainly felt sick, but for some reason it hadn't seemed like a possibility before. She had just begun to drift off again when her mother opened the door.
Her face was pale and her back was unnaturally straight, as though she might collapse if she relaxed it. Lana wondered what had happened. Leilani looked at her and then ran to the bed.
"You're awake! How do you feel?" She set a small bag down on the floor and pulled the covers up over Lana. "Do you want some water?"
Lana let her mother tip some water down her throat and leaned back against her pillow when she had had enough. When had she ever felt this weak? She didn't recognize her own body, and she hated her helplessness. Ever since they had left the island, everything in her life had gone careening out of control, and she didn't know how to get it back again.
"Mama," she began to say, but Leilani shushed her.
"You don't have to say anything. I know it hurts. Here, I bought you some medicine that will help. You'll get better soon, Lana. I promise."
Her mother was scared. This realization ought to frighten her, Lana thought, but instead she found it comforting. Her mother was no longer the infallible goddess of her youth-she was human, and scared, and trying to hide it, and Lana loved her. Leilani stood up and took out a judicious amount of a dried green herb from the bag and used it to brew tea. She poured a cup, waited until it had cooled enough, and then sat patiently beside Lana again.
"You have to drink all of it. It probably won't taste very good, though, so I'm sorry."
Lana shook her head and drank the whole thing obediently, even when it hurt her throat to swallow. The warmth briefly stopped her shivers, and made her feel sleepy.
"Mama," she said again as Leilani gently smoothed her hair away from her forehead. "I'll be all right."
Two tears, unmistakable, streaked their way down her mother's cheeks. "I'm sure you will, Lana. You should sleep."
So she did.
The man had been propositioning Leilani for weeks. It started with broad winks and suggestive hand gestures that had become progressively vulgar as time went on. Heluma, she knew, did the occasional sexual favor for extra cash, but the idea had always been repugnant to Leilani. She wanted nothing to do with the weatherbeaten, self-assured merchant, no matter how many expensive chains he wore around his neck. As her supply of the precious medicine dwindled, however, and she was faced with the impossible prospect of finding a thousand extra kala, she began to consider it. She forced herself past her own nausea to smile at the merchant as she served him sour palm wine, or refilled his hookah bowl with mid-grade amant. Sometimes, she even brushed his shoulder suggestively with her arm as she left. He responded to her slightly less frosty behavior with even more obscene propositions.
"I want you in my bed, Lei," he growled the night before she ran out of the medicine. He was on his third bowl of amant. He was impeccably dressed, as usual, but the way his slicked-back graying hair shone in the lamplight made her feel nauseous. Heluma clearly thought he was a good prospect-unhandsome, but not unappealing, and clearly wealthy. But Leilani felt ill at even the thought of going to bed with him. "Why d'you think I've been coming to this crummy place every night for the past three weeks? I've got plenty enough money to frequent more high-class establishments." He rattled his chains suggestively.