Page 32 of Tiki Beach
“One for here,” he announced, setting the plate before me, “and one to go for Pua.” He placed a neatly wrapped package beside it. “On the house today. Consider it our contribution to the investigation.”
“You don’t have to do that.” I reached for my wallet.
“We want to,” Opal said firmly. “Pearl is ohana to us. She taught Artie to fold origami cranes when he was her student long ago.”
At the mention of cranes, I paused with the sandwich halfway to my mouth. “Cranes? Like ‘the crane will fly once more’?”
“You’ve heard the phrase,” Opal said. It wasn’t a question.
“It was in a note addressed to Pearl,” I said, setting the sandwich down. “Keone and I have been trying to figure out what it means. We thought it referred to a statue in the garden her grandfather built before the war.”
“That’s part of it,” Artie said. “But for Pearl, cranes have always been about more than the statue. They’re her . . . meditation, I guess you could say.”
“She folds them constantly,” Opal said. “Hundreds, maybe thousands over the years. She gives them for special events, like weddings and graduations. Says each one carries a wish, a memory, or a truth that needs to be remembered.”
I felt a tingle of excitement. “Where does she keep them? The paper cranes, I mean.”
“All over,” Artie shrugged. “Her house, her classroom at the community center?—”
“The community center,” I interrupted. “In Ohia State Park? Where she teaches origami workshops? I knew about that.”
“She has a whole cabinet of supplies there. Paper in every color imaginable,” Opal confirmed.
“And finished cranes,” Artie added. “She lets the keiki take some home, but she keeps many of them there for her projects and gifts, too.”
My mind raced. Maybe Pearl had left something there—a hidden message? The missing evidence? I had to find out.
The community center was a former gym in the state park. It had recently been enlarged through local fundraising efforts, and was used for classes, events, and cultural demonstrations.
Most importantly, I had keys to it—Aunt Fae and I served as weekend caretakers for the park in return for rent, a position that mostly involved trash pickup on weekends, and making sure gates were locked and buildings secure after-hours.
“I need to check out that classroom,” I said, taking a hurried bite of my sandwich.
The flavors of Artie’s exceptional ahi creation exploded across my tongue, momentarily distracting my investigative instincts. “Oh man, that’s good.”
“Take your time,” Artie chuckled. “The cranes will wait for you.”
Opal reached into her pocket, her bracelets creating a melodic tinkling. “Before you go rushing off,” she said, “perhaps the runes can offer guidance.” She produced the small pouch she always carried with her.
“I’m not sure we have time for a full reading,” I said, battling a sudden urgency as I munched another bite.
“Just three,” she insisted, loosening the pouch’s drawstring. “For direction.”
Tiki, who had been grooming herself with single-minded focus, stopped and fixed her gaze on the rune pouch. Her attention seemed to confirm Opal’s suggestion.
“All right,” I agreed. “Three quick runes.”
Opal spread a silk cloth on the counter and gestured for me to draw three kukui nut shells from the bag. I did so, placing them in a row.
“Past, present, future,” she said, studying the symbols revealed.
The first curved, corrugated black shell bore what looked like an angular “P” shape. The second showed what resembled an “X” with the bottom right arm extended. The third displayed a simple vertical line.
Opal’s fingers hovered over each in turn. “Wunjo reversed,” she said, touching the first. “Joy inverted—a happiness that was stolen or corrupted. The foundation of this mystery lies in a joy that was transformed into sorrow.”
Her finger moved to the second shell. “Nauthiz—need, necessity, hardship endured. The present moment requires perseverance through difficulty. The truth is buried but fighting to emerge.”
Finally, she touched the third nutshell, and her eyes widened slightly. “Isa—ice, stillness, that which preserves. In the future position . . .” She paused, her brow furrowing. “Something preserved will reveal itself. A truth frozen in time.”
