Sid and Momi didn’t speak much on the drive back to the shave ice stand. Eventually it was Momi who broke the silence with on of her typically direct questions that seemed to arrive out of the blue,
“So honey-girl, when was the last time you talked to Lohiau?”
Inside Sid groaned. She imagined that her great aunt must think that this companionable moment signaled the perfect opportunity for a motherly chat about her imaginary love life. How could she answer without ruining the rest of the day? She made her best effort,
“I see him around, it’s a small island.” Sid smiled at her aunt “I don’t really remember exactly the last time; he always reminds me to give his respects to you.” The first part was a bald-faced lie, she did remember it was last Tuesday morning at 10:30 when she’d run into him at the Kauai Coffee Company; she’d felt terribly fat, standing there in cut-off jeans and a red dirt shirt. He’d said that now that it was low season he’d come by, have a shave ice, and say Hi to Momi. That was a week ago. She’d said nothing to her aunti, knowing that she had a soft spot for Lohiau and would be disappointed when he didn’t come.
“That one is the real thing. Not much makes me wish I was younger, younger is too much trouble. But…” the older woman’s voice trailed off into silence for a moment before she picked up the thread again, reaching over the emergency break and patting Sid’s thigh, “…you’re not too old for a little trouble. Little trouble might do you good.” Momi looked at Sid questioningly; Sid looked at the road and spoke with bitter humor in her voice,
“Not too old, just too fat, too short, and too much bad luck.” Lifting her chin, Sid looked over at Momi who sat looking through the windshield with a dreamy expression on her face.
“Oh Honey-girl, men like short, it makes them feel more like men. All the rest of that can change, even luck.”
Turning her attention assiduously back to the highway, Sid thought of the winding two lane black top of Waimea canyon road, the stunning views of layered red rock, the switch-back’s that could leave anyone’s stomach in their throat. The curves like those of livid scar that wrapped it’s way up Lohiau’s leg and around his knee, lasting evidence of the motorcycle accident they’d been in together; she escaping with a few bruises and he with extensive knee injuries that required six surgeries. It was impossible to forget the beautiful landscape blurring, the blue of the sky becoming the floor of her vision while the sky turned to red stone. All of it spinning by in double exposure the image before her eyes an Alice in Wonderland distorted mirror of her dream from that morning.
Sid had kept on going while Lohiau had to give up his dream of becoming a competitive surfer forever. It was still hard for her to look him in the eye. He was still beautiful, perfect. Anyone might say he still did well, teaching surfing to tourists in the high season and going his own way the rest of the year. Perhaps he’d forgiven her by now but she could never forgiver herself. She’d dreamed the wreck, it was before she knew she had the dreaming gift, or the dreaming curse, she thought. Even twelve years later, Sid found it difficult to shake the feeling that her dream had caused it to happen, or that she could have prevented it. Maybe in the end she was worse off than he was, still working at her aunt’s shop, getting fatter every month and still working at the seemingly hopeless task of trying to make sense of her dreams so that nothing like that would ever happen again. Not to anyone she loved, not to anyone at all.
“Malu, it’s never too late. Don’t be so busy untying the strings your dreams that you miss your own life. Even your grandfather found a way to live with the gift.”
“And you?” the words had popped out of Sid’s mouth before she could reel them back in.
Surprisingly, Momi didn’t take up the gantlet and snap back at her; instead she reached up awkwardly from the passenger seat and patted Sid’s cheek:
“A family isn’t everything. I had my trouble Honey-girl, more than you’ll ever know. Now you worry about having yours.”
