“Didn’t I see you swim past me like twenty minutes ago, in the lead?” she asked, confused.
“I’d rather swim with you.”
Her mask began to fog. “That was you outside of me this whole way?”
He nodded.
Minnow could have stayed in that moment for a long time, but instead she grabbed his hand, ducked under and pulled him along. A few minutes later, they caught up to Nalu and Cliff, and the four of them swam along in a wide formation. Somewhere up ahead a long submarine shadow swam before them. For all any of them could tell, it could have been a shadow or it could have been a shark.
Except Minnow. She could hear the beating of a very large heart.
When they came to the beach, they walked out together. Her legs were jelly, the way they always were after a long and vigorous swim. Cliff stumbled a few times and Luke and Nalu caught his arms and helped him keep upright. The warm sand felt good on her feet, but she was almost sad to finish, wishing they had kept going all the way to Hale Niuhi.
The Shark House.
Journal Entry
From the journal of Minnow Gray
February 11, 1998
My mother took her own life using the same pills they gave her to treat the depression she couldn’t climb out of. Something about that seems very wrong to me. I was at school and Billy Jo, her friend from the art gallery, found her in the bathtub with all the life drained out of her. They were supposed to have lunch together and I know Billy Jo was worried about Mom—everyone was. She said that when Mom didn’t come to the door, she had this horrible feeling that she should come in and check.
Billy Jo came to the school and they pulled me out of art class. At first I was excited to think I could leave early, but then I saw the haunted look on Billy Jo’s face. There was no note, no goodbye, and I was left with only my memories of my mother and this preternatural sense that I was suddenly very, very alone. Not in the physical sense, because even back then I loved being alone, but my heart felt completely untethered to any other living hearts. The only source of love I’d known was gone forever. All along I thought it broke me, but now I’m beginning to realize it made me stronger.
Chapter 34
Gone to California
Hoku: star
On the plane ride back to California a few days after the roughwater swim, Minnow leaned her forehead against the cool window and stared down at feathery white cloud fields opening to patches of ocean far below. Her mother’s card burned a hole in her thigh. Cliff had given it to her this morning, suggesting she read it alone.
The goodbye had been rough. How could she even thank the Kaupiko brothers? In all honesty, it felt as though they had given Minnow her life back. In such a short time, the Kaupikos had become family to her. And for a girl with hardly any family, that was a big deal. Some said it was a Hawai?i thing, and that Hawaiians, if they like you, will welcome you into their homes with morealohathan you’d know what to do with. Maybe that was true, but Minnow knew it had more to do with the ocean. The same salt water ran through all three of their veins. Nalu’s too. She loved that kid—man—whatever. And then there was Luke. Leaving him had felt unnatural in a way that caused an actual physical ache beneath her ribs.
“Water or passion-orange juice?” the flight attendant asked.
“Passion-orange, thank you.”
Minnow downed the juice, wiped her hands and pulled the card out from the envelope. On the front was a quote from Søren Kierkegaard.
Life can only be understood backwards;
but it must be lived forwards.
When she opened the card, a photo fell out into her lap. Square, black-and-white, faded. Right away Minnow recognized it was a baby picture of herself, wide eyes looking into the camera with uncanny awareness. Layla had always said Minnow was an old soul, and that picture made her think that, yes, maybe she was.
Dear Cliff,
It feels like another lifetime ago that I was in Hawai‘i, even though only a few months have passed. I know I said I wouldn’t be writing anymore, but I couldn’t help myself. My daughter is here and she’s perfect! She came out kicking, literally, and moving her arms like she was trying to swim, which she probably was. They tell me babies do that. As far as newborns go, she has been remarkably easy. She is quiet and watchful and she loves to lie in her crib and listen to the birds sing, especially the crows. All mothers think their babies are special, but I swear, mine really is. How did I get so lucky?
When I take her for walks on the beach, her eyes track the waves and she reaches out, grabbing for the water. There is such wonder there, it seems unusual. And maybe I’m crazy (actually, I know I am), but I think she remembers our swims out front of your house. She wants to get back in the water—I can see it in her eyes. I have to be honest, it both thrills me and terrifies me. I havenever understood the ocean, never trusted it or loved it the way you do and the way Bruce does. I envy that.
So I’ll get to the point. Would you give her a Hawaiian middle name? Please! I might have to fight Bruce on this, because he wants her middle name to be Sofia, after his grandmother, but it would mean so much to me. A child can have more than one middle name, can’t they?
All my love.
XO,
