Chapter 12

A pale glimmerin the eastern sky gave me permission to get up from a restless sleep the next morning. Tiki grumbled as I tugged on my bikini and robe. "You can come if you like," I told her. I slid my feet into slippers and hustled out of New Ohia, stumbling down the road to the beach. Tiki trotted behind me, sniffing for prey in the damp grass as we went.

Tequila hangover and lack of sleep aside, the velvety air, redolent with the scent of newly budded plumeria trees, soothed me as if recognizing an old friend in a crowd of strangers as we walked. At Ohia Bay, I shed my towel and robe, eyes on the dark blue horizon as salmon-pink, puffy clouds floated by.

The memory of yesterday morning's disaster seemed as unreal as the machete-pig nightmare from before. Tiki sat on my towel and kept watch as I slipped into the chilly water and swam hard and fast, goggles protecting my eyes from the salt water. I was mindful that this was feeding time for the few tiger sharks in the area, but today, I didn't care.

There were no sea turtles in view this time, but with the way I was churning through the waves, I'd no doubt sent them gliding off to calmer waters.

I eventually got back to shore and toweled dry. Tiki had disappeared—probably off chasing some field mice.

I had hours to go before I had to open the post office. I weighed my options: go home and take a nice hot shower, go to the K K office and take a lukewarm shower in the tiny bathroom, or just wrap the robe around my saltwater sticky body and grab some coffee at the general store.

The store's promise of coffee won out. I needed that Elixir of Life after my long fitful night, and Artie and Opal's camaraderie was like applying balm to a wound.

I piled my hair on my head and tightly tucked my towel around it. In my white robe and towel-wrapped head I must've appeared to be an extra taking a break from filming a mummy movie as I padded across the empty road in my slippers.

Artie once again recognized me as I approached.

"Kitty Kat," he said from his usual spot on the porch. "We were hoping you'd come by today. Opal has been itching to get out her runes."

Ah, the runes. I could only imagine what they'd have to say about my current predicament.

"Before we get to any of that, I could sure use a cup of your fabulous coffee."

"Got it right here." Opal glided out of the store carrying a steaming mug for me; she must have seen me coming. This morning, she wore an aloha print muumuu and a velvet wrap. This one was purple with a fist-sized pin of lavender rhinestones depicting an octopus. She set the coffee down and opened her arms. "May I get a hug?"

I couldn't refuse Opal, but it took some deep breaths and force of will to endure. Thankfully, she kept it short.

"And how about a breakfast burrito, on the house?" Artie said. "I've been branching out on the store's breakfast offerings. Today I made a spicy scrambled egg and chorizo concoction and wrapped it in a spinach tortilla. You can be my guinea pig and let me know what you think."

"Very daring for East Maui," I said. "Yes, please."

"Folks out here might appreciate a little international flair now and then." He bustled off, navigating through the store's dim interior with the confidence of the sighted.

From what I'd seen, folks out here liked things to stay the same. Nothing brought out the stink eye like something Aunt Fae would call "newfangled."

Opal sat down next to me and handed me the mug of coffee. "How are you doing, Kat?" she said. "We've been worried about you ever since we got word of what happened out there. I hope you're not blaming any of this on yourself."

"I wish that were true, auntie. But it's not a matter of choice. I just can't stop thinking about it."

"Then let's see what the runes have to say."

The kukui nut shells rattled in her pocket as she took them out of the small pouch. She'd inscribed the nearly black shells with symbols only she could interpret. The past few rune readings she'd done while I was present tended to be enigmatic, similar to inquiring about your chances of finding true love by reading your horoscope in the newspaper or seeking financial advice from a fortune cookie.

She took off her shawl and smoothed it out on the little side table that was a fixture on the store's deck. "First, you must consider your intention. Bring to mind, with as much detail as you can, what you'd like to know."

I thought about the hermit blowing up his place and my role in it. I also recalled the pink sandals. I mentally requested clarity on who the little rubber slippers belonged to. Even as I did this, I felt foolish. Magical thinking was not going to bring back the dead, nor clear my guilty conscience.

"You ready?" Opal asked.

"I guess."

She blew on the shells and tossed them onto the purple fabric. Two skittered to the edge and dropped off.

"We won't bother with those," she said. "If they don't want to reveal themselves, then so be it."

Artie returned with a plate holding the warmed burrito under a clear plastic warming cover. He'd cut it in half and provided a fork, which I appreciated, because as hungry as I was, I might've been tempted to stuff the entire thing into my mouth at once. It smelled heavenly. I detected cumin and chili and the tang of fresh tomato salsa.

He sat down without saying anything, holding the burrito on his lap. Blind or not, Artie could always pick up the mood of the moment, and when Opal was reading her runes, the mood was somber.

Opal peered at the black kukui shells remaining on the velvet like a Russian chess master in a grand champion tournament. Artie and I remained silent. I glanced at his cloudy eyes and recalled that he was equally gifted in seeing the unseen. Whereas Opal's runes offered vague predictions, Artie's prognostications were pinpoint accurate and specific.

"See this one?" She pointed to one of the shiny black shells. "That's the center rune. The rune below it indicates the problem. The one above it presents an answer."

If only it were that simple.

Opal brought out her little notebook and sketched the placement of the runes. "I need some time with this," she said.

As far I was concerned, she could take all the time in the world. I wasn't holding my breath expecting scratched-up kukui nut shells to lift my heavy burden.

"I've got to run home and get ready for work," I said. "But I'd love to try that burrito now."

Artie removed the cover and handed it to me. I gulped down the burrito quickly, and thanked Artie for the opportunity to try it.

"What did you think?" he said.

"It's wonderful. But everything you make is great, so I'm probably not the best taste tester."

Opal smiled. "No, you're the very best taste tester. Artie doesn't need critics. He needs a fan who supports his efforts."

She offered me a second cup of to-go coffee, but I declined; I'd grab a cup at home with Aunt Fae. I still had more than an hour before I had to open the post office and I was looking forward to comparing hangovers with my housemate.

My body had dried during my visit with Opal and Artie, so I slipped out of the robe and towel and walked back to New Ohia wearing only my bikini. The bay winked with sparkles from the fully risen sun, and the sun's soft heat on my back was as welcoming as the feel of freshly baked cookies.

How could I be glum and guilt-ridden in the midst of all this beauty and warmth?

Then it hit me: the little girl in the window would never experience any of this again.