Blooming in the Wild (4 page)

“Yes, it’s good to know we have enough provisions. This place is so isolated,” Camille mused, looking out at the wild shore. “Why, anything could happen out here, and who would know?”

“No worries,” Frank said. “Got da boat and great cell service. We’d get help right away.”

“Oh, good.” Tanah made a face. “Camille, you scared me there for a minute.”

“But isn’t that what we’re to portray here?” the photographer went on, arching her brows. “The sense of venturing into the primordial wild, pitting ourselves against nature, lovely and placid on the surface but created in such incredible violence?”

Bella nodded. “You’re right. My best friend Melia was terrified of the volcanoes when she first visited. David had to convince her Hawaiians have been living with Pele’s fire for thousands of years.”

“And it’s not just volcanic eruptions,” Camille went on dreamily, chin in hand. “The sea is lapping so peacefully at our feet now, but that can change very quickly, no? A tropical storm, and waves will crash up over that little reef and over our camp, as well.”

Bella glanced at the others and wished the woman would stop. Cassie, Tanah and Matt had all stopped eating, looking as uneasy as racehorses shying at the gate.

“In that case, we’d just head up into the forest,” Joel said calmly. “Hunker down and wait for help. Wouldn’t take long, and we have food, clean water, and it’s plenty warm.”

“If we run out of food, Joel can forage for us, right?” Bella added, unable to resist the dig.

Joel took a drink of his beer and shrugged. “Look for fruit, catch fish for our supper. We’d actually do all right.”

As long as she didn’t have to eat bugs, Bella found the idea of foraging in the forest for food intriguing. As the soft evening breeze tugged gently at her hair, she gazed longingly at the shadowed forest above them. If only she were just here to explore, hike up into the inviting green towering over her and forget DelRay and all its concerns.

“You could hunt for wild pineapple,” Cassie added.

Everyone looked at her, and she giggled. “Snap! You should see your faces. I know pineapples grow in fields.” Bella smiled at her, glad the model had lost her frightened look.

“Hawaii has plenty of native fruit,” Tanah said. “Bananas and mangoes.”

“Macadamia nuts,” Matt added triumphantly.

“Guava,” Tanah said. “That grows wild. We picked some on a hike last week.”

“Every one of those was brought by settlers,” Frank said. “Like our ancestors. In their long canoes, they brought with them many plants that grow wild today. Our noni, used for medicine. Ti, used to wrap fish for cooking. Yams and taro.”

“The more common fruits were brought later,” Bella added. “Guava, banana, mango, macadamias, avocadoes, all brought in the 1800s.”

“Cash crops,” Joel said. “Some go wild. Happens all over the tropics, sometimes creating some real pests.”

“There’s other cash crops grown in the islands too,” Matt added, his eyes twinkling.

“Oh, Kona Gold.” Cassie giggled. “Definitely a lot of that around here.”

“Marijuana.” Camille shook her head. “A harmless part of the island lifestyle, surely.”

“Maybe,” Frank put in. “It’ll make you
hûpô
, foolish. Dere’s plenty other drugs coming on our islands dat are pure poison.”

“Kona Kula,” Joel said. “I heard about that on the news. That’s bad stuff, all right.” He shook his head.

Bella and Frank nodded somberly. Sold to the naïve and credulous as an herbal concoction similar to hashish, the new drug was actually a powerful hallucinogen that was even more addictive than meth, if that were possible. Several people had already died on the islands from ingesting what they believed to be harmless amounts.

Bella was the only one here who knew that two of her cousins had nearly died preventing huge shipments from being distributed throughout Hawaii.

Tanah made a face of distaste. “Oh, I hate talking about depressing things like that. Let’s cheer up, people.”

Bella reached out to touch one of the sprays of purple blossoms nodding over the table. “There are native plants that can be eaten, but only by those who know how to prepare them properly. This is vervain, also known as rat’s tail. Tastes like shiitake mushrooms. Of course, eat too much and it’s a sedative.”

“Really.” Her gaze sharp, Camille took a frond from the bouquet and studied it, rolling it in her hands. Bella reached out to tuck in another flower Camille had knocked loose, suppressing a surge of irritation at the woman’s disrespect for the plants.

“Wow, you know a lot about plants,” Matt said to Bella.

Frank nodded. “’Ae, you’ve been studying up, Nani. But you forgot da lilikoi.”

Bella gave him a look, hoping no one would take up his conversational cue. But Joel cocked his head, eyeing her through the fronds of the centerpiece. “Lilikoi,” he repeated. “I know I’ve eaten that somewhere. Southeast Asia, I think. What is it again?”

“Just a fruit that grows on a vine,” she said. Frank’s eyes danced.

Joel snapped his fingers. “Got it. Lilikoi, also known as passion fruit. Delicious. Wonder if there’s any ripe around here?”

Bella shot him a look of dislike until she realized his question had been for Cassie and Tanah, who were both smiling. Well, good. She certainly didn’t want him aiming that glinting look at her.

“I’d like to see some passion fruit,” Tanah drawled, tracing her fingertip down Joel’s brawny forearm.

“Oh, it’s easy to find,” Bella told her. “But it can be disappointing. Just round yellow balls on a skinny little twig.”

Frank choked on a mouthful of beer, and Joel’s eyes narrowed dangerously behind the centerpiece.

“I think you’re thinking of that chilly mainland passion fruit,” he retorted. “Around here it grows on great
big
vines.”

Tanah and Cassie giggled, and even Camille chuckled. Matt tapped fists with Joel.

Avoiding Joel’s smug grin, Bella looked down at her plate. Leilani’s cooking was delicious as usual, but she was no longer hungry.

She pushed out of her chair, plate in hand. “I should go and make a couple of phone calls. Excuse me.”

Behind her, Tanah spoke. “Oh, phone! Here, Matt, take my picture with Joel.”

“Me too,” Cassie agreed.

To Do: To bring a difficult tour member in line, first learn as much as possible about his or her background to establish common ground
.

Bella escaped with relief. Not eating was unusual for her, but then so was camping with a bunch of strangers—one of whom was totally obnoxious, and one who didn’t seem to realize she’d frightened three of her fellow campers. Add being the one in charge of making sure everything went well—not to mention hearing voices urging her to leave it all behind and run away to join them—and Bella was ready to jump out of her skin.

She’d managed to tune them out when she was busy helping direct the setup of camp, but now that that was done, her mind free, the warm whispers began again.

“’Ai kâ mâua kua ‘ai, kaikuahine. Come and eat our fruit, little sister.”

Bella swallowed hard, her mouth watering, her stomach rumbling again as if hungry for some sweet, wild fruit she could find only in the forest.

On her earlier visit to Nawea, she’d spent as much time as possible up in the forest, hiking the trails north of here with her cousin Zane, exploring, learning the trees and plants. She’d been full of curiosity and energy and consumed with the need to learn, to know, to experience. She’d raced up and down the trails, outpacing even her long-legged surfer cousin. He’d called her a
pupule wahine,
crazy woman, but she’d only laughed, exhilarated by a sense that she couldn’t slip, wouldn’t fall.

Now she felt conversely as if she dared not venture into the wild tangle of trees and plants above her for fear she could not bring herself to return even to this vestige of civilization.

This might be paradise, but she was poised over it, balanced on a cliff’s edge between normality and an enthralling, frightening fantasy of…belonging. She needed to stay centered. She belonged to the world she’d established for herself—her condo in Portland, her friends, her job and her mother.

But now she had a father too, and both he and her two best friends were here. Hawaii’s pull was more powerful than ever. Oregon, even DelRay’s Maui offices, seemed very distant.

She made her way around the tents and walked a little way along the shore to sit on a rock at the edge of the surf. Around her, twilight was falling, the light dimming to a soft purple, the sea a sheet of molten pewter, the surf quieting with the ebb of the tide.

Pulling out her phone, she punched the second number. Her mother’s was the first listed, but she’d call Grace tomorrow. Tonight she wanted to talk to someone here in the islands—someone who would understand.

Daro answered on the third ring. “Nani, how are you? Are you at your camp?”

Bella found herself unwilling to share all her concerns, which seemed petty now that she was speaking with someone unconnected to this group. “We’re here, camp is all set up, and dinner is over. Everything is fine—really.”

He gave a hmm of concern. “You weren’t fine when you called last night. I don’t want to scare you, but…you seem to be tuning in to the island—big-time. Through me, you are ho’omalu, one of the
ohana
of the guardians. We can’t predict how the powers will show themselves.”

Great. This call was supposed to reassure her, not give her more to worry about. The Ho’omalus, she had learned after Claire and Daniel nearly died in an undersea confrontation off Na’alele, had strange powers given by Hawaii’s patroness, Pele herself.

The divers Bella had mentioned to Joel were actually drug runners, working for a crime family from LA. Daniel Ho’omalu had foiled their attempt to move their new designer drug onto the islands.

Melia and David had been involved in an earlier battle high on the side of the volcano, with the same cartel. After Claire survived a horrific experience similar to her own, Melia realized that Claire and Bella, who was now a Ho’omalu, needed to understand what was happening around them.

Long ago, Pele had tasked the Ho’omalus’ island forefather, Kalo, with protecting her island, promising him long life and success if he would watch over her Hawaii while she slumbered far beneath. With her patronage, Kalo became an even fiercer warrior, invincible in battle. His sons took up the war club after him. His descendants continued to fight for Pele’s islands, growing in wealth and stature and hiding their true nature from the world.

It had taken Bella weeks to process this awe-inspiring information about her new family. Although a tiny part of her had whispered that she’d always known there was more than her appearance that was…different.

Just a little, though, surely. Her father had no special powers, unless one counted his musical talent, which was pretty awesome.

Her hand tightened on the phone, and she stared at the palms leaning over the shore, their fronds rustling in the evening breeze as if they whispered to her. The forest crouched behind her like a huge presence, overwhelming her other concerns. Perilous in its seductive power.

She took a deep breath and let it out, rolling her head to release tension.

“There is…something going on,” she admitted. “But I thought the—the powers manifest in the male line.”

“That has been so, with no way of knowing who will inherit which powers. I think the Ho’omalus are as surprised as you are, Nani. But nevertheless, you are manifesting. There is much for you to understand. I believe Homu can help you. He is also, ah…good with plants.”

“Oh,” she said faintly. David and Daniel’s good-natured, silver-haired father shared her strange connection with plants and trees? With the forest? She’d always been able to coax beauty from plants that none of her friends could match, but this was way beyond that. None of her houseplants had ever spoken to her, for heaven’s sake.

And did this mean that the voices were real? That she could actually manifest powers herself? Maybe she did want her mother.

She sighed, rubbing her neck. “There’s so much I don’t understand—but I don’t have time to try and sort it out right now. I’m in charge here.”

Daro was silent for a moment. “All right,” he said finally. “I won’t pester you about it now, Nani. I hope your photo shoot goes well. But if you need anything, anything at all, you call me. And your cousins. They’ll be there right away if you need them.”

Bella smiled, comforted by the thought of the big, solid Ho’omalu men, just miles away up the coast. “Nothing’s going to happen,” she said, reassuring herself as well as her father. “Frank’s here with the boat, and we’ve all got cell phones. If we need help, we can call emergency services.”

“I guess that’s right,” her father said. His voice softened. “Jason says aloha.”

“Aloha to him too.” Along with the shock of learning she had a father here had been the news that he was gay. His partner in life and music was Jason Mamaloa, one of Hawaii’s most successful musicians. His smooth, lilting voice was heard all over the world, backed up by her father’s harmonies.

She pictured the two men relaxing barefoot on the lanai of their big beach house, Jason, small and silver-haired, her father taller, his hair the same coffee hue as her own.

She was unused to having two middle-aged men fussing over her, but she liked it very much. She almost felt as if she’d gotten not one but two fathers. Or maybe uncles, because she still didn’t really know Daro very well, and it was hard to completely trust someone who’d left her alone her whole life until she showed up on his home island.

Because her mother had wanted him to. Grace had not dealt well with the news that the father of her child had used a weekend with her to try and deny his true sexuality, and had cut him out of her and her daughter’s lives. Bella swallowed those thoughts and the sour taste they left in her mouth. She couldn’t think about that now. Or the fact that if she did have powers, at some point she was going to have to explain them to Grace.

“Just promise me,” Daro said, “that when you’re back at Nawea you’ll tell the Ho’omalus about these dreams. They can counsel you.”

“I promise.”

“All right.
Pô maika`i
, good night, Nani. Aloha.”

“Aloha.” She clicked her phone off and pressed it to her heart, a painful pleasure swelling inside her. After a lifetime without a father to tuck her in, to hold and tease her as her friends’ fathers had, Daro’s presence and concern slipped through the cracks in the protective shell she’d built around her heart.

Bella turned back toward camp, but her footsteps lagged as a scent tantalized her again. Fruit, wild and sweet. It would satisfy her as the prepared food had not.

But where was it? She clambered up over the rocks toward the lava band that rose steeply above her. Shrubs and vines clung to the surface, and she could hear a stream trickling down through the rocks. It would pour out into the bay somewhere below, mixing with the salt water.

Then she saw them, high over her head. Round, golden balls glowing nearly fluorescent in the soft dusk against their sparse twigs and green leaves. A guava tree. Bella blinked. Wild birds must have dropped seeds here.

She looked up at the fruit and swallowed. She could almost taste the sweet, tangy inner pulp. But there was no way she could climb up the steep, wet rocks. She gazed longingly, her stomach growling again.

“
E nonoi, kaikuahine. Ask, little sister.”

Slowly, feeling a little foolish, Bella held up her hands, palms up. A strange sensation flowed through her fingers, and she looked at them, startled, half expecting to see a visible current. But the tree overhead rustled as if it were chuckling at her, and one, two, three plump yellow fruits plopped into her cupped hands.

Bella let out a startled squeak, and one of the fruits fell from her hands to land at her feet, split open to reveal its pink, juicy pulp. She looked down at it, her hands shaking, and then back up at the tree. Two more yellow globes fell into her hands, and another hit her on the head.

“Au’e!” She ducked, and glared upward. The little tree’s leaves gave one last rustle, the ghost of a chuckle.

Setting the fruit neatly on a rock at her feet, Bella split one open with her thumbnails the way Zane had shown her and sucked greedily at the tasty pink pulp inside.

She devoured the tasty fruit, tossing the empty rind aside before opening another and eating it. With a sigh of satisfaction, she wiped her sticky mouth on her sleeve and smiled up at the little guava tree.

“Mahalo.”

Several more fruits plopped down around her. Laughing, Bella bent to pick them up, stuffing them into the upturned hem of her T-shirt.

When she arrived back at the campsite, the table had been cleared. Kobe and Eddy were putting things away, and Frank was setting out coffee service and drinks. The others were standing around, Tanah talking animatedly with Joel, Cassie and Matt peering at photos on one of their smart phones, while Camille and Li sat by the fire pit.

Bella slid her bounty onto an empty plate on the table.

Watching her, Joel raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

“Is that what I think it is?”

She tossed him one of the fruits. “No. Have a guava.”

He snagged it in midair, his gaze never leaving hers. “Mahalo.” “So this area is called Na’alele, hmm?” Camille asked. “Lovely name.” The photographer relaxed in a camp chair, her legs crossed. She’d taken off her hat, revealing dark auburn hair in a fashionably tousled cut that framed her narrow, oval face and emphasized her clever eyes.

“There’s a story behind the name,” Bella answered. “Frank, will you tell it?” She perched on chair, trying not to watch Joel suck the pulp from the guava she’d given him. He ate with relish, the same way he did everything. The same way he would make love. Whoa, no. She was not going there.

Frank nodded in appreciation at her compliment. “Let me get a fire going first. Easier to talk story by a fire, yeah?”

“More fun to listen too.” Joel rose to help, and in a few moments, the two men had made a small, cheerful fire of dry driftwood.

Frank settled down again on his log, his dark eyes gleaming in the firelight. The others all quieted and turned to him as he began to speak, his island accent stronger than usual.

“Long ago,” he said, “back in the time when only Hawaiians lived on these islands, Na’alele was a young wahine, ka nani, who liked to come down to swim in the sea here. One day, she saw a stranger coming out of the surf. He was handsome and strong,
no ka oi,
without equal. She knew this stranger was
kapu,
forbidden, because he might be a spy for the rival chief of another island. But when he smiled at her, she forgot her duty to her ohana and she went with him.

“The stranger was Kanaloa, guardian of our seas. He has long been known by Hawaiians to lure nani
,
pretty young kane and wahine into his home far beneath the sea. This he planned to do with Na’alele.

“But she was promised to Pokoa, chief of another village. Appearing to court his
ku’u ipo
, his sweetheart, this brave warrior was
huhû,
so angry when he saw her with another man. He wielded his shark-tooth club and tried to slay his rival. But Kanaloa lured him into the water, and quick as a flash, he took the form of
mano
, a tiger shark. He killed Pokoa, turning the sea red with his blood.

“Watching from shore, Na’alele screamed in fear and horror. Her cries awoke the goddess Pele, Kanaloa’s older sister and guardian of this island. Enraged at Kanaloa and the trouble he caused, Pele strode
a mauna,
down the mountain in her skirts of flaming a’a. She swept over the foolish Na’alele and her dead suitor and chased Kanaloa back down into the sea.

”They say Pele walked up out of the mountain through the big cave behind us, and the underwater caves are where Na’alele and Pokoa came to rest. Side by side in death.”

It was quiet for a moment, only the mellow notes of slack key guitar lingering in the quiet dusk. Bella’s sympathies had always been more with the spurned suitor than with Na’alele, who seemed a bit silly. Why fool around with a stranger when she had a strong Hawaiian warrior ready to marry her? Unless maybe Pokoa was a macho jerk, and poor Na’alele had no way out of their betrothal.