Page 49 of Big Island Sunrise
Emma trudged towards the front gate. “I’m about ready to drop him back where I found him.”
“You don’t mean that,” Lani said, walking with her.
“No, I don’t.” She sighed. “I’m going to go see if I can find him.”
“I’ll come with you. He never goes far.”
They rounded a stand of greenery that hid the house from the street and there he was, sitting on the other side of the gate, waiting patiently to be let in. His tail wagged excitedly as they approached, and his tongue lolled out of his mouth.
Emma laughed and opened the gate. He ran through and circled her twice before bolting off to join the kids in their play.
“Still want to dump him at Keiki Beach?” Lani teased.
“Never.”
Lani’s phone rang and she checked the screen. “Just a sec, it’s Mano.”
“‘Olena’s dad?”
“Yeah.” She picked up. “Hey Uncle, howzit?”
“Leilani! How you doin after that storm? John’s roof still leaking everywhere?”
“It’s leaking in a few places, yeah.”
“I told him ten times we could fix it, but he always said he’d do it himself. I’ll come today with Kekoa. We’ll get that roof fixed before we get a real storm.”
“Thanks, Uncle.” She hung up and smiled at Emma. “He’s going to come by later and deal with the leaks in the roof.”
Emma’s eyes widened. “He doesn’t have to do that.”
Lani was puzzled by her surprise. She had been a Kealoha long enough to know what‘ohanameant.
“Family looks out for each other. Adam would have done the same for them.”
“That’s true.”
Mano showed up that afternoon with half the family in tow. They climbed right up on the roof and patched the leaks, but they didn’t stop there. Kekoa and his friends cut out collapsed pieces of fencing and replaced them.
‘Olena came by at the end of the day. She found John’s weed eater and used it to carve paths through the overgrowth. Her girls ran barefoot along the gravel paths, all smiles and excitement until Kiana fell backwards with a shocked cry.
“My foot!” She cradled her bare foot between her hands and looked at the sole.
“Kiana!” her mom called from across the yard. “How many times I gotta tell you to wear your slippahs?”
“What happened? Oh,hilahila!” Lulu dropped to her knees for a better look at the low-growing weed. It snaked across dirt and gravel, and the tiny thorns on its stems packed a punch. But kids loved its responsive, delicate leaves. “Kiki, look!”
She brushed one tiny branch and the plant responded immediately: each pair of leaflets folded together rapidly, one after another. Kiana copied her, poking at another cluster of leaflets and watching with a scowl as it folded in on itself.
“Auntie,” she said severely, looking up at Lani. “You’re supposed to killhilahila.”
“No!” her sister cried, putting her hands over the spiny weed protectively.
“Yes!” Kiana said fiercely.
“It’s not the plant’s fault you stepped on her!”
“Is too!”
