Hana, Maui

        Tessa watched as the boat sliced through the waves.  Uncle Andy seemed to be listening intently as Uncle Kal instructed him in the maneuvering of the outrigger canoe.  With a small smile, she turned and headed up to the house.   Closing the screen door behind her, Tessa set the papaya on the counter and headed down the hall to Keoni’s room.  Uncle Andy had chosen this room, over the master bedroom.  As Tessa entered it for the first time in nearly three years, she could almost feel her brother’s presence. 

        She dropped the boots near the closet, and ran a hand across the fire engine red bedspread, smoothing invisible wrinkles.  Above the bed hung Keoni’s poster of Eddie Aikau, held to the wall with two “Eddie Would Go” bumper stickers.  Tessa smiled at the memory of her mother’s reaction when Keoni had used the stickers instead of thumbtacks.  She ran her hand over the bright yellow surfboard  strapped to the wall, before a book on the desk caught her gaze.  Keoni’s autobiography.  The scrapbook style journal that had been his final project during that last school term before his death.  He had guarded it fiercely, sharing pieces with his family, but keeping much of the book  to himself. 

        Dropping into the padded desk chair, Tessa opened the book.  She felt a momentary surge of guilt, but it didn’t deter her.  Looking down at the first page,  a three by five photo of her brother stared back at her, his full name written in bold black letters below:  John David Akeakamai Hart.  Keoni’s brown eyes seemed to sparkle, the green flecks glinting with good humor.  Tessa traced the beloved face, her fingers following theline of her brother’s smile, and lingering on the deep dimple in his cheek.  Turning the page,  her eyes took in the familiar handwriting, and she began to read.

About Me

        I was born  on July 4, 1967, in Seattle, Washington.  I only lived on the mainland for a few months before my parents moved back to Hawaii.  My mother was born on Kauai, as was her brother, and most of her ancestors.  My father’s family is from New York, and I don’t know them very well.

        My given name is John David Akeakamai Hart, but everyone calls me Keoni.  That’s the way I like it.  My father’s name is John Valentine Hart, but he goes by Jack.  Dad is the head of the language department at the college.  He also does a lot of translations, because he’s fluent in nine languages.  Some people think I was named after him, but I wasn’t.  I was named after my mother’s fathers; her biological one, and the one who raised her.  Dad’s family call me John Jr., but I’m not a junior anything.  I am Keoni.

        My mother is Sara Kai’nehe Hart.  My mom is beautiful.  She’s a dancer, and a dance teacher, and she tells the coolest stories through her dancing.  My mom owns Hula Hulau, but she is also an awesome cook, and the best mom ever.

        The other person who lives in my house is my little sister, Tessa Hoalohanani Hart.  Nani is two years younger than me, and I call her a pest, but really she isn’t.  She’s smart and funny and athletic.  I wouldn’t tell her this, but Dad and I are probably going to have to lock her up in a couple of years, because she is really going to be pretty.  Sometimes I think that my sister is my best friend, but I can’t tell her that, because she’s my sister.  She’s  supposed to be a pain, so I have to pretend she is.

I also...

        Tessa slammed the book shut, unable to read any more.  Fighting back tears, she replaced the book on the desk and bolted from the room. 

   

        Standing in the kitchen, Tessa took several deep breaths, trying to regain her composure.  She pulled the rice cooker from the cupboard and carefully measured equal amounts of rice and water into the pot.  Once the rice was started, Tessa picked up the papaya and with deliberate movements, peeled, scooped and sliced the fruit, arranged it on a plate and placed it in the refrigerator.

   

        Still feeling unsettled, she began to tidy.  Picking up the three cans from the table, she carried them to the sink.  After draining her soda can, Tessa emptied the remaining beer from Andrew’s can into the sink.  The sour smell rose, tickling her nostrils.  Suddenly, her stomach clenched, and images slammed into her.

1. Cigarette stained fingers grabbing her hair.
   

2. 
   

3. Rancid breath, hot against her skin.
   

4. 
   

5. Yellow-stained teeth sinking into her flesh.
   

6. 
   

7. Screaming. Pain. Terror.  Blood. 
   

8. 
   

9. Rivers of blood.
   

        The can fell from Tessa’s shaking hand, and clattered to the floor.  Tessa clutched her head, trying to drive the thoughts away, trying to forget.  Stumbling into the hall, she came face to face with a Hart family portrait.  Snatching the picture from the wall, she stared at the faces.  Happy faces.

        “Gone,” she muttered.  With trembling fingers she wiped her fallen tears from the faces of her father, mother, and brother, glaring at the innocence in her own, younger face.  “Stupid, stupid, little girl.”  Tessa dropped the picture to the floor, and moved onto the next one.  It was a picture of Tessa at her first off-island dance performance.  Waimea valley stretched out behind her, a four year old in a green and purple mu’umu, her long brown curls waving in the wind.  “Gone. Gone.”  With a sweep of her hand, Tessa knocked the picture off the wall.  She continued on her destructive path, unmindful of the broken frames and shattered glass she left in her wake.

        As Tessa approached  the master bedroom, she reached the last  photo.  It was a studio portrait of Tessa, her mother, Sarah, and her grandmother, Kamaile.  The memory of her mother’s hand slipping from her grasp flashed through Tessa’s mind, and she felt the cold of a New York City winter chilling her blood.  Shivering uncontrollably, Tessa wrapped her arms around her body and scooted into the bedroom.  Her parents’ room.

        It looked the same.  As in Keoni’s room, the essence of Jack and Sarah Hart remained in every inch of the room.  With chattering teeth, Tessa yanked open the door to the walk-in closet, looking for a sweater, a jacket, anything to wrap around herself, to drive away the ice invading her very veins.  Her searching hand lit on cool, slippery silk, and she jerked back as though stung.  The blue silk bathrobe slithered off the hangar, landing at Tessa’s feet.  She reached for it cautiously, crumpling it in her hands, and raising it slowly to her face.  Jasmine and lavender.  Her mother’s scent remained captured in the threads of the robe.  Inhaling deeply, she breathed in memory after memory of her mother’s eyes, her smile, her love.  Tessa’s heart began to race, and she swayed as the closet walls seemed to narrow and spin.

        Closing her eyes, the robe clutched against her chest, she stepped back, feeling the scratch of tweed against her cheek.  Her eyes flew open, and she grabbed for the sleeve of her father’s “professor” jacket.  The tweed suit coat with the leather elbow patches was worn only on occasions when Jack Hart needed to look the part of Department Chairman.  Tessa stroked the jacket thoughtfully, completely unmindful of the moaning noises that escaped with each ragged breath.  Wrenching it from the hangar, she buried her face in the lining, searching for a remnant of her daddy.  Strong arms, a scratchy chin, and the spicy citrus smell of his aftershave.  Her mind held the image, but only briefly.  Three years of anger, sorrow and loss finally reached  the edge, and for the first time, Tessa did not try to push those feelings back.  She gave in.  With a short scream of pain and rage, she tore through the closet, ripping articles of clothing from their shelves and hanging places, throwing them to the floor.

        Her anger abated, Tessa stood in the middle of the closet, gasping for breath, surrounded by the clothes her parents had left behind. Just like me, she thought, discarded.  As quickly as the thought occurred, she regretted it.  None of them had left on purpose.  Guilt surged through her body, and as her body drifted to the floor, she felt the floodgates break open, and the tears began in earnest.  They poured from her eyes in hot, salty streams, soaking through the pile of clothing on which she huddled.  Gasping sobs tore from her throat, shaking her body, as Tessa Hart finally and truly, mourned for all she had lost.

        “You did well for a haole,” Kal told Andrew as they pulled the outrigger ashore and secured it to a tree.

        “That’s some boat you have there,” Andrew said with admiration.  “It  rides like a dream, and I swear the fish were attracted to it.”

        “The fish were attracted to the bait,” Kal laughed, “but I’ll agree about the canoe.  She’s the best I’ve ever had.”  He picked up a net bag with four fish inside.  “We’ll clean them down here, and slap them on the grill as soon as we get up to the house.”  He pulled a knife from the pouch he wore around his waist, and handed it to Andrew.  “I’ll show you the native way to gut a fish.”

        Andrew took the knife, and prepared to learn.

        With the fish prepped, and the waste properly disposed of, the two men set off for the house.  Kal kicked his slippers off at the door, but Andrew wore his inside, still not completely used to the Hawaiian custom.   The kitchen was empty.  The rice sat warming in the pot, but Andrew noticed immediately the two aluminum cans scattered on the counter, one teetering on the edge, golden droplets of beer dripping to the floor.  The third can, also beer, was wedged under  the cabinet, in the place it had rolled after being dropped.

        “Tessa?” Andrew called.  “Honey, are you okay?”

        There was no answer.  Silently, Kal placed the fish on the counter, and added his voice.  “Nani?  Keiki?  Where are you? Your rice will burn.”

        Nothing.  Concerned, the two men headed, as one, for Tessa’s room.  They stopped short at the hall.  Not a picture remained on the walls. Shattered glass and splintered frames littered the tile floor.  Andrew looked at Kal, who returned his gaze.  Picking their way carefully, they made it through the ruins.  Andrew peeked into Tessa’s room, but it was empty.

        “Listen!” Kal held up his hand, gesturing to Andrew.  Tilting his head, Andrew heard  it too; the moaning of a creature in pain.  Following Kal’s lead, the made their way to the master bedroom.

        Kal saw her first, but Andrew was first to reach her.  Kneeling on the floor, he gently wrapped his arms around his sobbing niece, pulling her off of the pile of clothes, and tight to his chest.  “Tessa.  Tessa, sweetie.  It’s going to be okay.  Tell me what’s wrong.  Are you hurt?”

        The only answer he received was a brief head shake, and a fresh outpouring of tears.  At a loss, Andrew held onto Tessa and rocked her, his eyes looking helplessly at Kal.

        Kalihiki’ola was also feeling out of his element.  Killer high surf?  No problem.  Raging storm? Piece of cake.  Erupting volcano or starving shark? Bring it on. His niece, his last blood tie to his beloved sister, a huddled, hysterical mass of torrential tears. Kal wanted to run and hide.  Or to lie down and join Tessa as she wept.  Neither of those were acceptable options, so he did what any red-blooded man would do. He went for reinforcements.

        Andrew saw Kal leave the room, but his attention was focused on Tessa.  He shifted his legs, pulling her fully onto his lap, and softly stroking her hair.  Murmuring gently, he held her and prayed.

        After what seemed an eternity, Kal stepped back into the room.  The panic-stricken expression was no longer on his face, and he exuded calm as he entered.  Kneeling next to Andrew, he opened his arm.  “Give her to me,” he instructed.  “Harry wants to talk to you.”

        “Harry?  Harry, who?” Andrew did not release Tessa.

        “Harry Ikahara.” Kal met Andrew’s eyes with his own.  “Dr. Harry Ikahara, medical doctor of psychiatry? Shelby’s husband?”

        “You called Harry?”  Reluctantly, Andrew relinquished his grip on the still sobbing girl.

        As Kal scooped her into his strong arms, cradling her red and blotchy face against his shoulder, he shook his head.  “No, I called Shelby.  But Shelby and Lili are performing at a bar mitzvah tonight.”  He shrugged, and rose effortlessly to his feet.  “I didn’t know what to do, so I called someone who might be able to help.  I didn’t get the one I wanted, but what Harry told me made sense.  Go talk to him.  I’ve got her.”

        Andrew waited until Kal had settled himself in the corner armchair, Tessa weeping hoarsely against his neck, before he left to find the telephone.  As he exited the room, he heard Kal begin to sing softly, his melodious baritone sounding calm and reassuring.

        In the great room, Andrew picked the receiver up off the coffee table.  “Hello?”

        “Hello, Andrew.”  Harry Ikahara’s voice was calm and measured.  “Kal tells me things have become a little exciting over there.”

        “That’s an understatement.  Tessa’s hysterical.” 

        “So Kalahiki said.  Do you have any idea why?”

        “No,”  Andrew hesitated.  “I wasn’t here, I was out fishing with Kal.  When we left, Tessa was fine.  When we got back, she had ripped pictures off the wall, and was lying in a pile of clothes in Sarah’s closet.  Now she won’t stop crying.  I’ve never seen her like this.”

        “Never?”  Harry asked with interest.  In the two years you’ve had her with you, Tessa has never become emotional?”

        “Not like this.”  Andrew racked his brain,, but came up empty.  “Sure, she’s been happy and sad.  Angry even, but not like this.  This is...frightening.”

        “I can well imagine.  I’ve rarely heard Kalahiki quite so...disconcerted.”  Harry’s voice barely managed to quell his humor at that image.  “Is Tessa combative, at all?  Did she try to hurt either of you, or herself?”

        “No.  All she’s doing is crying.  She won’t stop.”

        “Truthfully, that isn’t so unusual.”  Andrew could almost see Harry tapping his chin as he paused.  “Do you know how Tessa reacted to the loss of Jack, Keoni and Kamaile?”

        Andrew thought for a moment.  “Not really.  I just know that Sarah was worried about her.”

        “Sarah was very worried about her.  Tessa withdrew into herself.  She showed very little outward emotion, save for a few tears.  In short, she repressed most of her grief.  Do you know how she reacted to Sarah’s death?”

        “No.” Guilt infused Andrew’s voice.  “I didn’t even know Sarah had died until nearly three months after the fact.  I didn’t find Tessa for several months after that.  I do know that she was hospitalized after the accident, because she couldn’t speak.  The doctor claimed she wouldn’t speak, but Tessa told me that wasn’t true.  She couldn’t physically make herself say the words.”

        “Psychogenic mutism,”  Harry mused.  “That figures.  Traumatic events caused her to turn further inward.”

        “But what do we do now?” Andrew asked, a desperate note creeping into his voice.  “I hate seeing her like this.  I feel helpless.”

        “I understand, Andrew.  It’s never easy to see your child in pain.  However, as I told Kal, this is probably the best thing for Tessa.  Tears can be very cathartic, and Tessa has certainly endured, and suppressed, far more traumatic loss than most.  Let her cry it out for now.  My professional, and personal opinion is this:  She’ll more than likely cry herself into exhaustion, and wake up feeling much better.”

        “But...but...”

        “Be patient Andrew.”  Harry soothed.  “If Tessa hasn’t settled down in, say, another half hour, call me back and I’ll come over.  I have some sedatives here if need be.”

        “Do you have an extra one for me?”

        Harry laughed.  “Are you sure you aren’t related to Kalahiki?  He asked me the exact same question.”

        Andrew had to smile.  “No blood,” he said.  “But I think we share a deep-seated fear of hysterical females.  I’m pretty sure that I was wearing the exact same panicked look that he was.”

        “Probably.”  Harry laughed again.  “I would have paid to see Kalahiki in a panic.”  His voice sobered.  “You call me if it doesn’t get better, you hear me, Andrew.”

        “Definitely!”  Andrew swallowed hard.  “Thank you, Harry.  Thank you.”

        “Any time.  Goodbye, Andrew.”

        “Goodbye, Harry.”

        Andrew hung up the telephone and sat on the couch.  Harry’s words had made a lot of sense, and the soothing tone of the other man’s voice had done a lot to reassure him.  Mentally preparing himself, Andrew headed back down the hall.

        Tessa  was still cradled in Kal’s arms, but the sobs had faded to whimpers.  Kal still sang, his voice low, the words incomprehensible to Andrew, but obviously, not to Tessa.  Her eyes were swollen and nearly closed, her face blotchy and streaked, and her body almost completely limp in her uncle’s arms.  Glancing at the clock, Andrew realized that it was nearly six o’clock.  Hesitantly, he moved next to Kal, and gently stroked Tessa’s hair.  She turned her head slightly toward his hand, but seemed to lose strength, her head reclining, and her eyes closing.  The stayed in tableau for several minutes; the two men and their shared child, until it became obvious that Tessa was well and truly asleep.

        With unspoken communication, Andrew lifted Tessa from Kal’s arms and carried her to the bed.  He placed her atop the comforter, and covered her  with a lap quilt from off the foot board chest.  He stared down at her for a moment, listening to her breathe.  Then he hurried across the hall to Tessa’s room, returning with her tattered green and brown blanket.  Draping it over her, he smiled as she muttered softly and turned on her side, nuzzling the blanket.

        “Where did that come from?  Kal whispered.

        “I don’t know,” Andrew admitted softly.  “She came to me with it, and it seems important to her.”

        “Hmmm.  I’ve never seen it before.”  Kal placed his hand on Andrew’s shoulder.  “You stay with her for now,” he said.  “I’ll tidy and make some food.  Then I’ll sit with her while you eat.”

        “That sounds like a plan.”  Andrew sighed.  “I know I don’t want to leave her alone until I know she is going to be okay.”

        “I know.”  Kal squeezed Andrew’s shoulder and disappeared from the room.  With another sigh, Andrew pulled the armchair close to the bed and  made himself comfortable, his eyes never leaving his niece’s sleeping form.

        Tessa woke slowly.  Opening her eyes, she was momentarily disoriented.  Coming fully awake, she realized she was in her parents’ room, on top of their bed.  Memories of the night before came rushing back, and she turned her face toward the closet.  The door was closed, and there was no trace of her mad purge.  Scrunching her forehead, she wondered if she had imagined the whole thing.

        “Good afternoon, sleeping beauty,” a familiar voice rang out.  “It’s about time you decided to wake up.”

        “Uncle Harry?  What are you doing here?”  Tessa sat up on the  bed.

        “You nearly sent both of your uncles into a panic last night, little girl.”  Harry’s broad smile belied his stern tone.  “When you didn’t wake up for breakfast, they started to get worried all over again.  I came over to see how you were doing, and to make Kal and Andrew feel better.”

        “Where are they?”  Tessa asked.

        “Sleeping, I hope.”  Harry shook his head.  “Those two sat up with you all night, just watching you sleep.”

        “I’m sorry,”  Tessa looked chagrined.  “I don’t know what happened.  One minute it was all normal, and the next...I just couldn’t stand it any more.”

        “You don’t need to be sorry, Tessa.  It’s okay to be sad.  How do you feel today?”

        Tessa looked at him suspiciously.  “Are you asking as Uncle Harry, or as Dr. Ikahara?”

        “Both.”  Harry met her look with amusement.  “But mostly as Uncle Harry.”  He sobered.  “Little one, you have a tendency to hold everything in, letting it all build up.  Like a volcano, you were due to erupt.  I was just wondering if it helped.”

        Tessa considered his words for a long minute.  Finally, she nodded.  “Yes,” she said.  “I think it did.  Last night, I was just...I don’t know really... here.  Now, I can’t wait to get out and get going.  I have a lot to do, and I really want to get started.  Is that weird?”

        “No weirder than usual,” Harry told her with a grin.  “Speaking as Dr. Ikahara, I’d have to say that your reaction is pretty much normal.  Just try not to let your emotional pressure build up so much.  Sometimes you need to have a release valve.  Try to remember that.”

        “I will,” Tessa started, only to be interrupted the growl of her stomach.  She blushed.  “I guess I missed breakfast.”

        “And dinner.”  Harry agreed.  “Why don’t you get yourself together, and we’ll go make some lunch.  I’m sure your poor uncles will appreciate that.”

        Tessa swung her legs over the edge of the bed.  “Are they terribly upset, Uncle Andy and Uncle Kal?”

        “They were just worried,” Harry assured her.  “I think seeing you up and making them some food, will more than reassure them.”

        Facing her honorary uncle, Tessa cocked her head.  “You had to talk them down, didn’t you?”

        Harry just nodded.  Tessa reached out and hugged him.  “Thank you,” she whispered.  “Thank you, very much.”

        Dropping a kiss on the top of her head, Harry told her, “That’s why they pay me the big bucks.”

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