“Women play hard to get with you?”
I’m digging a hole, and it’s probably one I’ll have a hard time climbing out of afterward. “Maybe I worded that wrong. I’m kind of an upfront, no filter type of guy, and it’s nice finding that kind of reciprocation in a person.”
“Ah,” she says coyly, as if she’s calling my bluff.
“So, I know you have a sister who you like to watch after. I know you lifeguard and teach hula dancing lessons, and you don’t like the bar scene much. Can I try to place other pieces of your puzzle together, and then you can tell me if I’m hot or cold?”
“Do you do that a lot?” she asks.
“What? Try to figure people out without hearing it from their mouths? Yes. It’s fun.”
“I do that, but not with people I intend to spend time with. More like with guests at the hotel. I make up their stories when the hours get too long.”
“Well, that helps me a lot actually. I’ll addcreativeto your list of features.”
“Okay, smarty, what else?” Kai flips her long hair off her shoulders and twists it around, bringing it to one side. We walk in the direction the arrows are pointing us in, and I feel a little lost in thought as I try to piece her together.
“You’re a strong woman who doesn’t like to follow others around … a slight feminist, but accepting of equality. You put effort into your appearance but don’t put a lot of thought into what others might think about you. I don’t think you intend to spend your life as a lifeguard, but you haven’t figured out how to take the path you’re trying to find yet, and with your sister suddenly switching gears in life, you’re a bit lonely. You’ve lived here on this island your whole life, and you’re not sure if this is your last stop, or if life is suddenly going to shift ninety-degrees and take you in a completely different direction, but the unknown scares you.” I exhale loudly. “Phew. How was that?”
She’s looking at me, a bit dazed and glassy-eyed. “How did you do that?”
“I spent four years recruiting new Marines, and part of my job was determining a good fit before a person even opened their mouth. I guess I found a hidden talent in reading people a little. I’m not always right, but I pride myself on being close.”
“I’m impressed,” she says, looking down and kicking a small pebble. “You left out one part, though.”
“What’s that?” For some reason, I have a bad feeling about the part she says I left out. I gather it’s the reason for what physically brought her to where she is today.
“My parents died in a car accident ten years ago. I was eighteen and able to care for Lea, so I’ve spent my entire adult life so far caring for her and making sure she stayed on track as my parents would have wanted.”
I stop walking because her statement isn’t something I can digest while lightly swinging our arms as we stride toward the crater’s mouth. “Kai, that’s terrible. I can’t imagine picking up after that and carrying on the way you did. Lea is incredibly lucky you did that for her. Wow. That’s why you’re so strong. It makes sense.”
“My parents taught me that everything in life happens for a reason. Even if it’s hard to see why and what the reason is, it’s something we’ll learn before we leave this world behind, so I try to have faith in that thought. You know?”
“I know,” I tell her. “Hearing that makes sense to me, and I wish someone would have told me that a long time ago too.”
“I know … you lost your wife, right?” she asks.
I’m not sure where she got that idea from but that’s not our story. “I lost her, but she’s not dead.”
“Oh!” she gasps. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry for assuming that. It was something Aya said—and I just thought—”
“Seriously, it’s okay.” I can’t help but laugh a little. “She never wanted kids, but things happen. I got a letter from her while I was deployed, letting me know she was pregnant and not keeping the baby. It was a huge mess, and I fought her on the matter until she caved in and continued on with the pregnancy. She tried to be a mom for a while, but she had other plans in life, and we weren’t part of them. So, she filed for divorce, left me the papers to sign, and got up and left. It was the last time I saw or heard from her. Aya was five, so she remembers a lot of it, which is unfortunate.”
At some point during my story, we started walking again. I didn’t even realize we were coming close to the crater until foggy puffs of clouds began spilling over the side. I glance over at Kai, and she has her hands crossed over her heart. “How could a mother willingly leave her child?”
I shrug because I’ve been asking myself the same question for the last couple of years. “Enough with the sour for a minute,” I tell her. “Is there any lava in this thing?”
“No, you loon,” she laughs. “It’s dormant.” She pulls me closer to the ledge. “Give it a minute.”
“For what?”
“Just watch.” As I say that, the clouds I was watching a moment ago begin to form a waterfall effect as they dip into the crater. Between the angle of the sun and the clear spot between the clouds, the orange soil looks and feels like we’re on a different planet. We’re basically standing above the clouds, watching the sun melt into the world below us. I don’t think this sight is comparable to anything I’ve ever seen before.
“Wow,” I tell her.
“It’s incredible,” she says, shivering against the cold wind from the clouds and high altitude. Without thought, I wrap my arms around her, pulling her back against my chest, and it feels like she belongs here with me. Maybe it’s just how I feel, and she’s not at all on the same page, but hope fills me for the first time in a while, and I allow myself to embrace that emotion. It got me through some tough shit in my life, and sometimes it’s all I have to hold onto.
Somewhat surprisingly, Kai wraps her hands around my wrists, holding my arms a little more tightly against her chest, telling me she wants to be here in this moment.
