Page 27 of Big Island Sunrise
“I don’t need it. It’s just sitting there. It’s technically Kai’s, but come on. We’ve got another decade before he can drive.”
“You’re serious.”
“Lani, I don’t know what I’m going to do with that place. I can’t leave the house to rot and give the whole lot back to the jungle, but I can’t stay here forever either.”
“Why not?”
“We have a life in California. Or we used to.” Emma shook her head quickly, steeling herself. “My whole family’s there. My brother’s wife is about to have a baby. I can’t stay here forever.”
“How long are you here?”
“A while,” Emma said with a shrug. She wasn’t ready to grapple with that question. “It’s been good for us so far, and there’s a lot to figure out. If you want your own room while you get back on your feet, well. It’s there.”
“I might take you up on that.”
“So where do I turn?” she asked as they neared the coastline.
“Just go right up there, and then follow the road all the way to the end.”
They parked in a dirt lot at the end of the road, and from there it was a short and glorious hike to the secret beach. Kai fell in love with the place immediately, racing off across the black rock and spring-green grass that grew year round.
The ponds and streams that they crossed were cold, fed by freshwater springs that came up just a few yards back from the ocean. The water was crystal clear. Even in the deepest parts, they could see to the bottom with astonishing clarity. Tiny silver fish darted around a fallen log, scales glinting in the sun as they turned.
They set up camp for the day on a miniscule sandy beach sheltered by high rocks on either side. It faced a clear, calm lagoon where the kids could play endlessly without their parents standing over them. Trees towered all around, scraggly pines that grew straight out of the lava rock. They made her think of redwoods – tall and thin and tough as hell.
“What are these trees called, do you know?”
“Ironwood,” Lani supplied. She lay on her back on a towel, watching the slender branches sway overhead.
“Are they pine trees?” Dry brown needles carpeted the lava rock. They were similar to pine needles, but more delicate, scaled and segmented into pieces that came apart instead of bending the way that pine needles did.
“Not related. They’re from Australia.” Lani picked up one of the thin needles and broke it methodically into segments. “My biology teacher in high school used them as an example of convergent evolution. She was the best.”
“How do they grow right on top of the rocks like that?”
“They’re nitrogen fixers.”
“What does that mean?”
“Basically it means that they eat the air.”
“That’s crazy.” Emma looked up at the lacy pattern that the needles made against the clear blue sky. “Coastal redwoods can survive without rain. They get all of the water they need from the fog. But growing without soil, in a place that they didn’t even evolve in… that’s something else.”
“Life finds a way.” Lani sat up and looked at her. “Are you sure? About us moving in?”
Emma nodded. “It’s too much for me. I’d be grateful for the help.”
“I can pay rent.”
“Please don’t.”
“I can–”
“No,” Emma interrupted her. A fierce grief rose in her chest, but she pushed through it. “I have Adam’s life insurance. I havemoremoney coming that the government gives to the families of firefighters who-” She swallowed and shook her head. “We have the house, the truck. It’s more than we need. More than I even want. It feels so weird to take on the responsibility for Kealoha land, even if I’m just stewarding it for my son. And you’re family. Please come stay with us. Stay as long as you’d like.”
Lani’s eyes shone with tears. She took Emma’s hand in a crushing grip. “Thank you.”
Emma leaned closer and hugged her. “Thankyou.”
