Okawii

OKAWII

  Copyright 2014 T.K. Byrd

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  For T, R, and K

  Chapter 1

  The letter had arrived. Mina was going to find out the truth. For years, David Young had protected his daughter from the facts surrounding her mother’s death.

  But what was a husband to do when his wife died under unspeakable circumstances? Daily life had to go on for the sake of the baby. What David did was lock the memory of the event into a vault in the far recesses of his mind and throw the key into the Grand Canyon.

  Accessing that memory ever again would cause too much pain.

  “That’s not your usual driver,” 16-year-old Andrew said, adjusting the heavy red brocade curtains to let more of the late afternoon light onto his music stand. “Whose car is that?”

  He looked at Mina Young who was standing across the newly updated rec room with her long boat-rope thick hair and striking dark brown eyes, and tried to push his feelings into the back of his head. She had always been called exotic. The contrast between her dark skin and light hair confused people, who were always asking where she was from. Mina would smile and say, “Tucson.” She had once told him, “It’s none of their beeswax that I’m half Pacific-Islander.”

  Andrew had known her forever. There were pictures of them together at the playground at 3 years old, at the lake at 5, and ice-skating at 10. In recent years, their friendship had morphed into a deep affection, and then love. Well, at least on his end. Andrew was not sure if she felt the same way about him. He wasn’t sure about much about her these days.

  “It’s my dad’s new car. Fancy, huh?” Mina said, joining him at the window. “I wonder why he came. I didn’t even know he knew where I went after school.”

  “Beats me,” Andrew whispered, his heart caught in his throat. Her arm was only 3 inches from his. Before he could decide whether or not to make a move, she walked back to her guitar stand.

  Andrew Lanza was brown-haired, average looking, with average grades. He didn’t really like team sports; it was hunting and fishing that he was into, or at least that he tried to be into. His dad was a big fisherman and hunter and Andrew had been dragged along on countless expeditions. Once, when he was 11, they went deer hunting on his uncle’s property in Colorado. He stood next to his father, ever-vigilant for the first 4 hours. Simon, his father, who was looking the other way on the stand, didn’t notice him doze off. Then Simon looked over onto his son’s side, only to see a white tail scampering off. He shoved Andrew awake, “It was a huge buck—at least a 9 pointer! It was yours for the taking and you missed it.” Andrew swallowed and his eyes stung. He resolved to try harder next time, to succeed in pleasing his dad.

  It was really music that he was into. As a 9-year-old, he was dragged to a soca concert by his uncle and was mesmerized that such sounds could be produced by human hands. He begged his mother for music classes after that, and she dutifully chauffeured him first to piano lessons, then trumpet, then drums, then saxophone. By the time he was in high school, Andrew had a working knowledge of seven different instruments, and spent his free time experimenting on rare ones (harpsichord, mandala).

  Andrew and Mina were typical teenagers. Except that they weren’t. What was unusual about these two friends was the size of their parents’ fortunes. Their dads worked together running Young Bank. He and Mina had gone unnoticed their freshmen year at East Mountain High, but their sophomore year when they passed their driver’s test and showed up in brand-new luxury vehicles, heads turned. Suddenly, the formerly mousey-looking guy and his mixed-race friend were invited to all the parties.

  The luxury cars were just their ticket at the door to the in-crowd. Once in, they made the most of it and quickly became two of the most popular kids at school.

  A big reason was the band that he and Mina had started. It was her idea, of course, but he was the one who ran with it and found other band mates, wrote songs, and scheduled rehearsals. He grew out his curly brown hair into a soft, frizzy fro in order to better play the part of rockstar. Mina had less of an interest in the band than Andrew and he had a suspicion that this was another bogus way to annoy her dad. Nevertheless, Water Salad quickly took off, winning two garage band competitions in its first year.

  Still, Mina had been acting strange in the past few months. Though it was only the end of junior year, to Andrew’s huge surprise, she had quit her club swim team and had firmly decided not to do the school swim team their senior year.

  Mina had been serious about swimming since forever. As kids they had spent every summer day in a pool, with Mina remaining in the water diving for pennies and pushing off the wall long after little Andrew got out to sit in his towel with his blue lips shaking. At the public pool the lifeguards had dubbed her the little fish. In high school, she was 3-time state champion in the 100- and 200-meter freestyle, and the first freshman in Arizona history to win both. Division 1 colleges had been scouting her since sophomore year, and this year there had even been whispers of the 2016 Olympics. Then, abruptly after the state championships this year, she announced her decision to quit. Andrew knew it had something to do with her dad.

  “How are your college plans coming? Are you going to work on early admission applications over the summer?” asked Andrew, seeing that band practice was over and eager to share the new developments in his own college plans.

  “I don’t know, probably not.”

  Although she was apathetic about almost everything these days, her answer confused Andrew. “But you were so set on Ivy League. What happened to biology and then med school?” Mina had always known her own mind and usually planned goals years in advance. Before the last couple months, she had consistently told Andrew that she was Ivy League-bound.

  “Eh, I’m not so into it any more. You?”

  “I decided to try for Dartmouth, you know, my dad went there. I know my grades aren’t stellar, but I’m going to retake the SAT, and with the right recommendation letters and Dad’s legacy standing, the guidance counselor said I might have a chance.”

  “Go for it.” She flopped onto the couch. “I wish I still had that same drive.”

  Andrew saw his opportunity and sat down next to her. Then he saw that she was clutching a pillow in front of her and fingering her shell necklace, something she always did when she was nervous. There would be no smooth moves today. He wished he had the courage to ask her how she felt—or even to declare his love for her. Until she had quit swimming a few months ago, things had been progressing nicely between them. They had been spending more and more time alone together apart from the rest of the band and had even held hands a few times, but then she abruptly turned cold.

  David Young pulled into the Lanza’s extensive driveway to pick up his daughter. Although he had ridden this way a thousand times, he had never noticed all the fine details because he had always been chauffeured and on business calls the entire way. Rows of bushes appeared to be braided on either side of the driveway, and weeds dared not disturb the alternating patches of red and purple flowers. The most conspicuous detail was the long fountain between the two sides of the driveway, complete with jumping streams of water, set by sensor to follow along next to any car. This impressed David, a rich man himself. New ideas in luxury always caught his eye.

  Is that a new statue? he thought to himself, getting out in front of the grand entrance. Looks like an original pi
ece. Apollo with his lyre, maybe?

  David paused for a moment, leaning on his pale blue Bentley. Nothing about this visit would be pleasant, except for the drink he was sure to be offered. It was true that Simon was more than just a colleague. He had turned into an old friend over all the years they had worked together and obviously, their children were best friends. David’s relationship with Mina was on the rocks and he wasn’t looking forward to the conversation he had to have with her on the way home. He was a timid man by nature, avoiding conflict and preferring to let things work themselves out rather than face problems head on. This strategy had worked for everything else in his life, except Mina. He took a deep breath and walked to the door.

  She had been so difficult around him lately. Mean, even. David knew he hadn’t been the best father, but he had done what he could while bearing the psychological burden of his wife’s death alone. He wanted nothing more than to be a good father to her—to have a good relationship, to share a common hobby, to laugh together while watching a favorite show. His mistake was that he thought this type of relationship would evolve naturally, based solely on the fact that he was her dad, that they shared DNA and a house. David had given Mina everything she could possible want or need, every luxury to go along with every necessity, but he didn’t realize that this type of connection only comes from honesty and communication—the two things he was unable to give her.

  Mina had approached him a few times over the years asking about her mom, but David refused any information, saying only that “it was an accident.” He knew she was curious about her culture on her mom’s side; sometimes he had found Wikipedia pages on the South Pacific left open on her screen. But that was part of the reason he never got over Eva’s death. David had refused all psychological help because he knew too much about her culture and didn’t want to compromise the secrets of Eva’s people.

  The butler answered the front door and led him through the two-story foyer and into the elegant sitting room. David winced, glancing up at the exotic animal heads ringing the room. An elephant head, recently acquired, was in the place of honor above the fireplace, with a pair of baby leopards on either side. Strange, small-horned animals were interspersed with large zoo classics: giraffe, hippopotamus, and lion. The fish were in another room altogether.

  Simon Lanza walked in confidently. “Sit down for a minute.”

  “Thanks.” David looked up again. There was no seat in this room where he’d be safe from the glare of the hunted.

  “So that buyout is set to go through for First Tucson Bank, but you got the memo on that I’m sure.”

  Simon’s winning smile had no sympathy for that poor bank that had worked so hard for the better part of a year to remain independent, only to have to sell at the last minute due to a minor tax oversight. It was mostly Simon who was responsible for the deal. Simon always had to win, had to be the best. To help the deal go through, Simon had hired some “special” people to look into the finances and tax history of the small bank. David remembered asking him if it was legal, which, of course, it was, according to Simon.

  Simon pushed a button and a housekeeper entered.

  “Teresa, we’ll have 2 Manhattans, hold the ice in David’s and make mine a double. On second thought, make them both doubles, with no ice. And something to munch on—I didn’t have any lunch today.”

  His fast talking confirmed his New York City roots. Simon settled in Tucson in his late 20s after getting into some trading trouble at an investment firm. David’s father had given him a second chance at Young Bank, and he had proven himself a valuable and loyal employee. Though he longed to be at the top, his past would not allow it, so he settled for second under David. David knew that it was his own timidity and unwillingness to take charge at kept Simon happy in his position.

  A few minutes later Teresa walked back into the room carrying a tray with two crystal glasses perched precariously on top of it. Simon passed a drink to his boss.

  “When’s your next hunting trip?” David knew that Simon had gotten more and more involved with the hunting clubs he was in. He was always jetting off to unusual locations and the animal heads on his wall kept growing in number.

  “Sometime soon.” Simon flashed his charismatic smile again, not wanting to go into any more detail.

  Mina sat down in the car wordlessly. Andrew was on her mind. She knew he liked her and she liked him, too, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to date him. He was the nicest person Mina had ever met. He was genuine and polite, and put everyone at ease. Since the band started going well and since he grew his hair out, he became one of the most sought-after guys at school. Girls were always fawning over him, and he treated them all like gold—not actually dating them, of course, but letting them come to band practice and not sending anyone away. Eventually, though, the girls realized he was in love with Mina and drifted away.

  “So, uh, how’s the band?” David asked awkwardly.

  “Whatever.”

  Their relationship had always been a little forced. Her dad had relied on a stream of au pairs while working under his father and later, after taking over as head of Young Bank.

  Then relations had turned hostile a few months ago, when Mina was invited by her friend Liz to go on Spring Break with her family to Florida. She had not yet been to the ocean, and the swimmer in her had always longed to jump into that vast expanse of water. As a child, she had asked to vacation at the ocean, but her father had just taken her to Lake Powell instead. This time her father had flat-out refused to let her go with Liz. Even after Liz’s mom came over to see him and explain that it was a fully-supervised family vacation and there was very little danger of anything happening. To Liz’s mom he cited her commitment to the club swim team. Later that evening Mina listened in from behind his office door and heard him tell someone on the phone, “I just can’t let her go to the ocean, not the ocean.”

  At that point, Mina decided that enough was enough. She stormed into his office, put her finger on the switch and disconnected his call.

  She screamed in his face: “Enough already! Enough with the secrets and super-protectiveness! Mom died—that’s a fact. That doesn’t mean that I can’t live my life the way I want or even visit my own grandmother if I want to! Oh, and I quit swimming.” She knew her swimming made him proud and at the moment it was the only thing she could think of that she could take away from him.

  The memory of that incident was enough to reignite Mina’s anger as she sat next to him in the car, although, she did somewhat regret quitting swimming. She felt a freedom and openness while moving through the water that she didn’t feel anywhere else in her life.

  David interrupted her thoughts. “Have you been thinking about colleges yet? It’s almost senior year, we could schedule a couple of visits. It’s not too late to go back to swimming, you would get some great scholarships—go wherever you want.”

  Mina waited a moment, then turned to him with blank eyes. “I don’t think I’m going to college. I want to work on the band and see where it goes.”

  He sighed, knowing she was doing her best to hurt him, and sad that it was actually working.

  She turned back to the window, pleased that she had pissed him off.

  “A letter from your grandmother arrived today,” he said, trying to sound cheery. He hadn’t spoken with his mother-in-law in 15 years—not because their relationship was bad, there just wasn’t a telephone in her village, let alone Skype. She had, however, been consistent in writing to Mina twice a year on her birthday and at Christmas.

  She turned slowly and looked at him questioningly. “It’s not my birthday.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  Mina’s mind started going a mile a minute. Her grandmother was always affectionate in her letters, and she longed to know her, to gain something of a mother figure from her. For her birthday wish when she turned 8 years old, Mina asked her dad if they could visit her grandma on Okawii. Her dad turned cold and walked out, leaving a room full of par
ty guests and freshly smoking candles on the cake. Mina’s aunt quickly took control of the situation, cutting the cake and focusing Mina’s attention on the gifts, but even at 8 she knew it was not normal to not be allowed to visit her grandma.

  “Why? What does she want?” Mina’s curiosity was greater than her desire to irritate her dad with silence.

  “She you wants you to go live with her for the summer,” he exhaled.

  “On Okawii?!” Mina’s excitement was growing.

  “Yes.”

  “And you’d let me go?”

  “Yes, your grandmother and I made an agreement after…,” he paused, “that you’d go back when you’re 16.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier, or ever?” she asked. “Wow, Okawii. When can I leave? Do I have to wait until school’s over or can I leave tomorrow?”

  In her excitement she almost forgot that she was mad at him, then she saw her father blinking back tears, and remembered her anger. She had every right to be angry, especially after this revelation that she could go to Okawii and that he knew she would be going over all these years. Had he only told her this years ago, she could have planned for this psychologically and maybe not be so melancholy about never being able to get to know her grandma.

  “You leave next week the day after school ends.”

  Mina barely noticed rest of the ride home. She ran into the large kitchen. The room was mostly just a passageway to the house for her. Hers was not the family that gathered in the kitchen pouring wine and swapping old stories. There were just two areas with which she was familiar in here—the cabinet containing her snacks, and the fridge stocked with her beverages. Everything else was a mystery to her. She had thought about asking Rosa to teach her to cook—something—anything—toast—pasta, but somehow there were always more important things to do.

  “Rosa! Where’s the letter?”

  “It’s here in my office,” said her dad, coming in behind her.

  She followed him into his spacious, wood-beamed office and nervously stood behind one of the couches. As a child she had never been allowed in here. Her first nanny, who had been with her until she was six, once told her that her father saw important people in there, and couldn’t risk having them sit on a raisin in their expensive suits. At the time Mina remembered thinking, “Why won’t the cleaning lady just get it?” She didn’t realize that any raisins, light or dark, would completely disappear into the pattered upholstery.