“It would be hard to hide a surfboard in these parts, you’d think,” she said. “They’re so buoyant, and once it was on the rocks, it would stand out.”
“Not necessarily. The waves were good size that day, and there are underwater lava tubes everywhere. It could have easily been shoved under, especially if it was broken in two.”
Current lines snaked across the oil-slick surface, reminding her the ocean had its own conveyer belts that could move something far away from its original location. When they had gone far enough north without any luck, Nalu turned them around and headed back the other way. As they sat together in silence, Minnow kept trying to conjure the memory from the morning back to the forefront of her mind.
Why had she been standing in the shallows? Her mother had said she’d been out in the water, near her father, when it happened.
They motored past Kohola and Bird Rock, and he kept going south, farther than she would have, but she was grateful for the time just to sit and take in the land. To rest her foot and come up with ways to rid the house of cane spiders and centipedes. Though with all the ripped screens, gaps in the wood and cracks and crevices, that seemed impossible.
“Is there some local secret you know of to keep the centipedes out of my bed?” she asked Nalu.
That was when her eyes registered something foreign wedged between the pinnacles of rock.
“Look! In there, do you see it?” she said, hopping up and grabbing the binoculars.
Nalu backed off to an idle. “Could be a board, for sure.”
He brought them as close as he could, up to the edge of a rock-filled inlet. It was definitely a surfboard. An orange one. Minnow dropped the binocs and pulled off her shirt. “I’m going in.”
“Hang on there, Doc. I’ll go. The last thing you need iswanain your already messed-up foot.”
“I need to get in. I’ll be fine.”
They were about forty feet away, and Minnow hopped in the water with her mask. She put it on and did a slow three-sixty, taking in hersurroundings. She was at the edge of an opening. Behind her the bottom dropped away fast. In front of her there was a coral-covered wall of rock teeming with fish. She swam through a break in the rocks, and when she reached the rocks where the surfboard was, she had to search for a place free of the black spiny urchin Nalu warned her about, where she could gain a foothold with her good foot. The small surge kept knocking her off, but eventually she managed to hoist herself up.
The surfboard had buckled in the middle and a giant bite had been taken clean out of it. Minnow carefully inspected the board for any teeth that might have lodged in the foam. There were none. But that didn’t stop the chills from forming down the back of her neck. This shark was giant and the chances of there being two sharks this large in the area were almost nil.
Nalu remained stone-faced when she returned to the boat and handed him the board. “An orange Brewer. What Stu was riding.” As if there were any question. “Any teeth?” he asked.
“No. But when I get the tooth from Angela, I can see if it’s a match. I can already tell you it’s going to be.”
“Same shark in both incidents. That’s not good.”
“No, it’s not.”
Back at Hale Niuhi, Nalu left her with the ice from the cooler, and Minnow iced her foot while writing up her notes from the day. Her leather-bound journal, which she had refilled with paper more times than she could count, was sacred to her. Covered in water stains from the last ten years, it had seen more miles of ocean than most people had. Writing in it religiously was part therapy, part creative outlet, part science. Sometimes she was convinced these little notepads contained her soul. Drawings, poems, musings and meticulous observations.
She was writing notes from Angela’s story and every new detail they’d gleaned so far when she heard a car engine. She sat upright and listened. It was definitely getting closer, and soon she heard the loud crunching of wheels on rock. The low sun had turned everything golden, and Minnow went outside to wait for the visitor, who she guessed would be Woody, and maybe his wife. A few minutes later, a beefy Dodge Ram rolled up. Minnow waved, staying on the paved walkway with her sore foot.
Woody jumped down and came over, taking her hands and studying her face for a moment. Warmth from his palms flowed into her. “Look at you, all grown up and gorgeous. You have your father’s eyes, sure as the sun. How’s it been here so far?”
Minnow felt herself wobble at the mention of her father. Here was a man who had met her father and whose memory she had yet to mine for stories. “It’s been perfect. I can’t thank you enough for letting me stay here.”
“My pleasure. The house likes to be enjoyed. She gets lonely otherwise.”
His words were nuanced with pidgin, and his eyes bore into her, turquoise like lagoon water. Sixtyish, tall and wafer thin, there was something comforting about his presence and his low, sandpapery voice.
“Can I help you unload?” she asked, stepping toward the truck, ready to brave the pain for him.
He looked down at her foot. “What happened to you?” Then shook his head. “Wait, wait, wait, don’t tell me.Wanaor centipede?”
“Centipede.”
“Damn, we had rain down here on the coast last week, and those buggahs find their way inside where it’s nice and dry and toasty. I should have told you to put your bed legs in the water buckets. No guarantee, but it helps.”
“It’s fine. The swelling is actually down a bit.”
No way was she going to tell him she went to the ER.
