Page 3 of Tiki Beach
Each second stretched into the next, thick as saltwater taffy being pulled and just as slowly elastic. In the distance, the mournful cry of ambulance sirens held the promise of relief.
A flash of tortoiseshell fur caught my peripheral vision. Tiki had returned. She crouched near the spreading puddle of tea around the broken pot, pawing at the scattered leaves. The cat’s ears lay flat against her skull, and she made a low growl in her throat that raised the hair on my neck.
“Come on, Pearl. Hang in there.” My back and shoulders burned with effort; I was getting ready to trade places with Kawika when the paramedics burst onto the lanai in a flood of urgency and equipment, shouldering us aside.
As they worked on Pearl, I found my gaze drawn back to those spilled tea leaves—but Tiki had vanished again. Hopefully she’d find her way home.
The waves kept their rhythm off in the distance, indifferent to the drama unfolding above the tideline. But their whisper now seemed to carry a different word: hurry.
The paramedics worked efficiently around Pearl’s still form while I helped Kawika clear away the remaining tea things. On impulse, I scooped up a sample of the spilled tea leaves from Pearl’s pot and took them inside the house. I found a ziplock bag and put them inside, wondering why I felt so compelled to do so.
Maybe it was because of Tiki’s odd behavior. The cat sure seemed to think there was something wrong with the tea, and she’d prevented Pearl from drinking any more of it.
Back outside, someone had switched on the lanai lights, and the Japanese lanterns Pearl had strung for ambiance now seemed oddly festive against the gravity of the moment.
“I think we’ve got her stable enough to move,” one of the EMTs said, holding up an IV bag. “Bring the gurney!”
His partner took off at a run, and I heard the two remaining personnel talking about calling a chopper to take Pearl to Oahu’s more sophisticated intensive care unit.
The Red Hat ladies had gone back inside the house, and I joined them as Pearl was wheeled through the room. Edith, in full attorney mode, trotted after them providing insurance and contact information.
I paused to let the cavalcade go by. Near me, Opal dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief while Josie patted her shoulder. Clara shook her head sadly. “I hope she pulls through this.”
“We all do. And at least she was with friends,” Josie murmured. “Doing what she loved. Maybe the excitement was too much.”
Kawika brought in a large tray containing the tea things, and Josie waved him away. “Let me deal with those. You get a hospital bag together for Pearl, please.”
“Good idea,” Kawika said, and surrendered the tray. Josie gathered the special implements with shaking hands, carrying them toward the sink. I hurried to help her. We ran a sinkful of warm, sudsy water, and Josie carefully placed each piece into the deep washtub. “I’ll just put these—wait a minute.”
“Hmm?” I glanced up, trying to shake off the surreal feeling that Pearl would roll up in her fancy standing wheelchair at any second, cracking one of her sly jokes.
“Pearl’s special tea blend is missing.” Josie held up a lacquered tea caddy. “The one she was so excited about serving today. She keeps it in this and serves it with her grandmother’s ceremonial scoop.”
I frowned but was distracted by the red and blue lights from the end of Pearl’s driveway flashing nonstop emergency warnings across the ceiling. Soon the loud wail of the siren as they departed drowned out any further discussion.
Pearl was on her way—hopefully to a level of care that could avert tragedy.
Once the ambulance was gone, I fumbled my phone out of the kimono’s pocket.
My boyfriend Keone, as a pilot, was privy to the comings and goings at the airport. He’d know if the helicopter the EMTs had ordered was taking Pearl to Maui’s local hospital or over to the intensive care specialists on Oahu.
“What’s up, Trouble?” Keone’s warm voice saying my private nickname was enough to bring quick tears to my eyes—that’s how soft I was getting—a far cry from the tough Secret Service agent I’d been only a couple of years ago.
“Trouble is right. Pearl Yamamoto had us over for a tea ceremony and collapsed. Her symptoms seem like a possible stroke. Something neurological, though it could be a heart attack, I guess. We did CPR until the EMTs took her away. They called for an air evacuation, so they’ll be headed for the Hana Airport. Can you find out where they’re taking her? I’m hoping it’s Oahu.”
“Let me find out.” The phone went dead immediately.
I liked that about Keone. He never wasted time with personal reactions or unnecessary questions—he took confident action.
I sank onto a nearby stool, holding the phone cradled in my hands.
Josie turned from the sink, a frown between her brows. “I think there might have been someone else at the tea party with us,” she said. “Someone we didn’t see.”
“What do you mean, someone else?” I asked Josie, my investigator instincts perking up despite my exhaustion.
“Just before Pearl collapsed, I noticed movement in the banana trees. I thought it was Tiki at first, but . . .” Josie wrung out a cloth, her hands still shaking . . . “maybe I was wrong.”
Speaking of Tiki, my cat chose that moment to nudge open the door that led onto the back steps. Her eyes were slitted, her ear back, and her kinked tail looked like a bottlebrush.
