“I should also add that white sharks don’thunthumans. They most often bite out of mistaken identity or curiosity.”
“Curiosity, my ass.”
“It’s true, Harry.” Conversations with men who knew it all usually never went well, but she was determined to at least keep those two weeks—she could find out a lot in that time. “Do I at least have your word on the two weeks?”
He paused. “Sure, why not?”
“In the meantime, it would be great if you could let the press know that under no circumstances should anyone be out there hunting sharks on their own.”
“Fine. And in the meantime, you keep me posted on any updates. I’ll let Vera know to expect to hear from you.”
“Will do.”
“I don’t take this situation lightly, Miss Gray.”
“It’s actually Dr. Gray, Mayor Lum. And neither do I. There is nothing light about any of this, and believe me, I know as well as anyone what it’s like to lose a family member in a shark incident. Like I said, sharks are my life.”
The average person did not understand how someone could revere sharks, but she had come to terms with that long ago. People did not love sharks. Most of them feared them in the deepest part of their brains. She was an anomaly.
He paused, blew smoke again. “Then you know what I’m dealing with.”
“Absolutely.”
Minnow lay on the wall by the water, looking up at a rose-streaked sky and keeping an eye out for the first star. Winter sun was not supposed to be as strong, but her sunburn made her back feel hotand sticky. She should have worn a rash guard top, but the water had lured her in with its perfect temperature. Cool at first but lacking the icy shock of California. And the longer she stayed in, the more her body felt right at home. No threat of hypothermia whatsoever.
Once darkness came, she went out back to turn on the generator. The shape of the coconut trees against the starlit sky caused her to stop in her tracks and stare up for a minute. A fish plopped in the pond nearby, and a bird screeched. There was something to be said for the barren beauty of the lava fields. It was a little bit eerie and isolated, but when she thought about it, what did she have to worry about? There was no one for miles, and no dangerous wild animals. On land, at least.
After wolfing down two black bean quesadillas with fresh salsa, she dusted off the large daybed, pulled the Big Island relief map off the wall and began creating her own map of where the attacks and sightings had occurred. The Kiawe was really located at the center of it all. At no other time in history had Hawai?i had a situation like this. It nagged at Minnow that a large white shark would remain in the area and wreak havoc like this. In her experience, unless they were at aggregation sites, foraging or reproducing, white sharks usually traveled. She was missing something important; she could feel it in her gills.
The phone rang, splitting the silence and causing her to jump clear off the bed. No one had her number here because even she didn’t know it.
“Hello?”
“Ah, there you are. I was beginning to wonder if you made it,” a man’s voice said with notes of pidgin.
“Woody?”
“None other. Look, I was gonna try come down tomorrow, but I’m stuck on a job, so I should be there day aftah. You good?”
“Yes, I’m great. This place is incredible. I feel so lucky to be able to stay here, thank you.”
“How about themano—the sharks?”
“Well, I’m just getting the lay of the land, and I hope to talk to the victim in Waimea tomorrow,” she said. “Have you ever seen any white sharks in the area?”
A loud laugh. “Girl, we got plenty to talk about when I come down there. But yeah, I seen ’um. Bumbye, you go eat at the Kiawe, and we’ll talk story when I come.”
Funny how the voice fit so well with the photos on the wall. Deep, gruff, but with a smile behind it all.
“Sounds good, I can’t wait to finally meet you after all these years.”
“Same, girl, same.”
“Oh, and what’s the phone number here? I need to give it out to a few people I’m working with, if that’s okay.”
“It’s 882–6266. Easy to remember—882-MANO.”
Journal Entry
