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full fury of those waves.
The thunder died as the floor dropped away. When he surfaced fully again, he
was already far from shore. A mile, maybe, which meant he was halfway there. The
waves had calmed into high rolling swells, out here in deep water, and he rode them
floating on his back or treading water as he tried to get his bearings. A curving-outward
course to Ka ena Point seemed the best route. He kicked out for the Point and swam,
slipping into a mental state of frozen efficiency, adrenaline present but suppressed:
body memories of the long nights he d spent patrolling IED-strewn Iraqi roads.
Then he saw the shark fin.
114 Heidi Belleau & Violetta Vane
He d never had a run-in with sharks before, not like Kalani, anyway, but he knew
that most would pass humans by, even when they were big enough to how big was
this one? He ducked his head down, opened his eyes, noticed that the sting hurt less
and yes, he could see through the dim blue, through the shimmering curtains of
sunlight and Jesus it was fucking monstrous. Bigger than Jaws. Way bigger. Bigger than
that B-movie Shark Attack 3 they d watched when they got high sometimes. Staring into
the water, hypnotized by the undulating movements of the shark s body, he
remembered Kalani on the couch, whooping out big bellows of smoke as he repeated
over and over again  I m wired I m w-wired 
Ori never should have let him go. Well, this time he wasn t taking no for an
answer. Never again.
The shark turned its massive head Ori was beyond all fear now, armored in
memory and drew the flesh of its snout away from its teeth so that they flashed longer
and whiter. Bone-clean white like the short spear lashed to his arm. Kahalaopuna s ex-
husband waited years to deny her resurrection. Stories swirled, unceasing. Was this
Jonathan? Then it dived, still grinning, down to where the sunlight died, shrinking into
a little toy version of itself until Ori broke the surface to gasp for air and curse. No. His
story meant nothing to that creature, and he was glad of it.
He slowed his breathing, slowed his heartbeat, slowed the bleed of precious body
warmth. Kept his strokes even despite the weight of the spear. Ka ena Point rose higher
from the horizon. He couldn t stop himself from looking down into the water one more
time and thought he saw something glimmering far below. Hints of coral spires. The
light of other sapphire suns shining over an underwater afterworld. Not Kalani s land
his home was in the clouds. Keep swimming.
The waves rose higher. Faster. The lip of a swell lifted into the air and curled in on
itself, a little whitecap that warned of death. These waves were too fast to bodysurf and
too massive to swim under and it was too late to turn back, but that was all right,
because Ori felt fresh and forgiven and cleansed by the water of his home and he wasn t
Hawaiian Gothic 115
far from Kalani. He could die here, die there, die a million times and nothing would
change what he felt right now, nothing, not even the geologic ages that wore down
islands and birthed them anew out of fire.
Halfway up the next wave, he found himself stroking almost vertically, clinging to
a wall of water. He looked upward to the sun, grasped at it
The wave broke and hurled him down a hard thirty feet. He struck the water like a
rag doll, like raw meat, every limb mangled and singing with pain. His fading strength
fled him.
He sank down, down uncountable body lengths, was hammered down and down
by the weight of the water until he lost all sense of direction. Everything lit up like
fireworks. A million suns. Where was the sun? He opened his mouth to breathe and
inhaled horrible burning salt water. Please, just let him wash ashore.
No, he d rather the shark have him than the poor kuewa.
Oh Kalani.
116 Heidi Belleau & Violetta Vane
Chapter Eleven
2001
All around him, ghosts moaned in their eternal sadness. No. It s just the wind in the
caves. Ori balled his hands into fists and lifted his chin. The low mouth of the sea cave
was craggy and littered with equal parts flower offerings and graffiti.
 Kalani! he called, afraid to yell too loud. They weren t supposed to go in farther
than where the offerings stopped, that was what Auntie Anela said. It was dangerous.
The whole thing could fall in on your head, maybe, or be flooded with water, or you
could get lost, or there could be& other things.
Ori wasn t sure if he believed the stories of the hungry shark-man, but some of the
other kids did, and he wasn t about to make a bet on his disbelief.
 Kalani!
Echoes of dripping water called back to him. Kalani could be anywhere. He knew
by hearsay that there were miles of small tunnels all branching out, not all of them
passable. Like a network of veins under Oahu s surface, and Kaneana cave itself was its
heart. Kalani could have strayed into one and gotten too scared to move. Or he could be
wedged into a tight space, trapped. Or he could be lost in the dark, wandering around
the same corridors over and over again, always taking the wrong turn.
Ori toed out of his rubber slippers, put his head down, and barreled in.
Inside it was damp and cold, and the light quickly dwindled to the point that Ori
had to feel along the lichen-slick wall for guidance. He should have gone back for a
flashlight, but then Anela would know where Kalani had gone, and he d be in more
trouble than he already was, or the older kids would tease Ori for being scared, or in the
Hawaiian Gothic 117
time it took to return to the house, Kalani could be lost, or crushed, or drowned, or
eaten, and he d lose his best friend in the whole world and it would all be his fault.
Silence. He d lost the sound of the sea. Where was he?  Help, he tried to shout,
but the fear rose up in his throat, and the word was a choked whisper, too quiet to even [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]