Leaving Lana'i Read online

  LEAVING LANA'I

  Copyright © 2015 by Edie Claire

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

  Cover design by Cormar Covers.

  Dedication

  To everyone who has ever felt a special connection with Lana'i,

  whether you are one of the many who have visited briefly

  or one of the few privileged to call it home,

  may the island whisper in your ear

  always.

  Chapter 1

  Maddie looked across the blue waters of the Au'au Channel, her gaze riveted on the greenish-brown mound of earth that rose from the ocean some nine miles before her. Propelled into existence practically overnight by some angry ancient volcano, the island of Lana'i had ever since, and ever so slowly, been sinking and eroding back into the sea. The island had filled her memories and spun her dreams since childhood, yet only rarely had she seen such a view of it. Standing on the wharf in Lahaina, Maui, she could take in the entire profile of Lana'i at a glance. But the rocky shores and windswept peaks visible to her now bore no evidence of either the luxurious resorts or the friendly, humble town she remembered.

  She drew in a deep breath of the warm, moist air, enjoying the feel of the morning sun on her face. Gulls chattered around her; the ocean breeze was stiff. She stood still and silent on the dock, content to do nothing but absorb the feel of the islands. She had been waiting fifteen years for this day. For a woman of twenty-five, it seemed a lifetime.

  “Everybody headed to Lana'i, step right up!” a man’s voice rang out pleasantly. Maddie looked over toward the catamaran she was planning to board to see a tall, handsome redhead standing by the gangplank holding a clipboard. Several dozen people rose from the shade of the trees nearby and headed toward him to check in. Maddie took her time and joined the end of the line.

  Taking a day cruise with the tourist set was a splurge for her, but it was a calculated one. In the nearly five years Maddie had lived on the island of Lana'i as a child, she had seen the distant spouts of humpback whales many times, and she had watched with glee whenever their sleek dark backs and black and white flukes breached the surface of the water near shore. She had even managed a few closer views when she rode the ferry to Maui. But never had she been fortunate enough to ride on one of the dashing catamarans she and her playmates used to watch dock at the small boat harbor in Manele Bay — sailing cats whose sole purpose was to take their passengers up close and personal to the giant whales who shared the islands’ warm, blue waters.

  Today, she would fulfill that dream.

  That one, and perhaps a few others.

  She readjusted the wide brim of her sun hat, surveyed the crowd, and then quickly dropped her chin. All of the passengers she had seen waiting before were either couples or families, but the trio of single twenty-something guys who had just walked up set off her alarm bells. The distinctive scent of stale beer lingered around them, and each hid what were most likely bloodshot eyes behind high-end sunglasses. Two out of three had wet hair from last-minute showers; the third looked like he had been asleep five minutes ago. All wore expensive beachwear that appeared newly purchased. One wore a Rolex watch along with Volcom boardshorts and a matching rashguard, never mind that his pale skin and flabby limbs made him look about as much like a surfer as Maddie did a professional jockey.

  She stepped out of the men’s line of sight. Predictably, the trio did not walk to the end of the line but cut in front of the family ahead of her instead, sparing her their dubious company — at least for the time being. She was glad she had braided her hair this morning and that she was wearing her wind jacket. Her height and profile made her stand out in any crowd, but she had learned ways to minimize the effect. And today especially, her “effect” was something she preferred not to deal with.

  “Don’t tell me,” the man with the clipboard ordered as she approached. She was the last passenger remaining on the dock, and he raised a palm to forestall her as he scanned the roster on his clipboard. “Madalyn Westover?”

  “That’s me,” Maddie replied.

  “Well, that’s a relief,” he said playfully. “If you weren’t, I was going to ask if you could fake it, because we’re running ten minutes behind already. You the one-way?”

  Maddie shifted her backpack, her attention having been subconsciously directed to its weight on her shoulders. She planned to spend tonight on the island. This particular excursion company didn’t usually do one-way trips to Lana'i, but she had worked it out with the management over the phone already. She would be dropped off at Manele Bay and would finagle her own accommodations from there. Tomorrow afternoon she would meet the crew back at the harbor for a separate return voyage.

  No problem. Surely someone who remembered her would still be living on the island and would be willing to take her in. If not? Well, it would be an adventure.

  “Yes, I’m the one-way,” she confirmed.

  “Awesome,” the man said affably, shaking her hand. “Ben Parker. I’ll be your captain today. Always happy to meet another ginger. Nice shade, too. Are we related?”

  Maddie smiled. Although her hair was always a popular target for pick-up lines, she didn’t think the boat captain was flirting with her. He did indeed sport the same unusual shade of dark red-gold as her own, and pick-up lines didn’t usually reference a shared gene pool. Besides which, his eyes had yet to stray below her chin. “I doubt it,” she replied. “Unless you have relatives in central Ohio.”

  He looked thoughtful. “Seems unlikely. The Parkers have been a West Coast clan for a while now. Maybe back in Scotland?” He gestured for her to precede him onto the boat.

  Maddie did so with a laugh. “Maybe.”

  As soon as everyone was on board, the passengers received their initial orientation and Maddie found a spot in the cabin to stow her backpack for the journey. She climbed the steps back up to the deck and began scouting out an available place to sit. The ocean swells would be choppy in January, and the passengers were advised to remain seated during the first part of the journey. The bow of the boat had the most space, but the up-front crowd was boisterous, and Maddie kept moving down the side rail. She spied the perfect stretch of empty cushion next to a friendly-looking family of four, but before she could claim it, the group scooted down to make room for someone else at the other end. Maddie searched on, but apparently the boat was near capacity, and when she saw that the benches across the stern, inside the cabin, and up the far side were also now full, she realized she would have to return to the bow.

  She was not the only passenger still hunting for a seat, and as the retired couple ahead of her also picked their way slowly back up to the front she shucked her jacket and relaxed at the rail a moment, stretching her arms into the sun and looking longingly at the island ahead of her.

  Lana'i.

  I’ve missed you so. Have you missed me?

  Her heart gave a little leap. She knew she was being melodramatic. She knew she was being childish. But she had been a child when she’d left the island before. And she had certainly not left by choice.

  “Hey,” a husky voice sounded.

  Maddie straightened and faced the stranger. “Yes?”

  The guy with the Rolex pulled his shades from his eyes and perched them on top of his artificially highlighted brown hair. He leaned over the rail beside her and slid in so close that if she had not ta
ken a step back, his shoulder would have collided with her chest. Maddie studied his bloodshot eyes and reassessed her earlier opinion. The man had not just awakened from last night’s bender. He was still on it. “I’m Cory,” he said smoothly, waggling his eyebrows like something from a Saturday Night Live sketch. “And I think I’ve been waiting for this moment my entire life.”

  Maddie chastised herself. She had forgotten about the men; let her guard slip. It was enough that they were half drunk and she was the only unaccompanied woman on the boat. That alone should have made her keep her jacket zipped for the duration. But no — she just had to feel the sun on her skin. And to make matters worse, she’d worn a tank top.

  She took another step away and leveled a cool gaze back at him, even though his eyes weren’t focused on her face. “Oh?” she said politely. “You study baleen whales?”

  Cory’s eyes glazed over. They moved slowly upward until focusing somewhere in the vicinity of her nose. His head bobbed on his neck as the boat began to move.

  “Could everyone take a seat please?” the captain announced.

  Whatever Maddie had said that Cory couldn’t process, he quickly forgot. “We saved a spot for you,” he said instead, smiling.

  Maddie looked over his shoulder to see his two companions standing over prime seats along the bow. They were gesturing to her wildly and grinning like idiots. There were indeed several unoccupied spaces next to them, no doubt because the other passengers had given all three men a wide berth. Unfortunately, those seats were the only ones available.

  Cory put his hand on Maddie’s upper arm. “Come on, beautiful,” he cajoled, rubbing his thumb along her biceps. “God, I’ve never seen a face like yours.” He was no longer looking at her face. “You’ve got to be a model. Are you a model?”

  Maddie silently weighed her options. He wouldn’t have his hands on her at all if they weren’t in a public place in front of children, several of whom might be disturbed at the sight of a grown man doubled over with groin pain. She would have to dissuade him in a more civilized manner, even if it was likely to take longer. That said, if his thumb moved one more centimeter toward second base, both the dude and his Rolex would be going for a swim.

  She pulled her arm back. “I have a seat in the cabin below deck,” she said dispassionately. She’d long since gotten over the temptation to get smart-mouthed with drunks. The SOBs could get angry quickly, and though she was five-feet-ten and no shrinking violet, keeping the element of surprise was more important than the satisfaction of a verbal burn. Furthermore, under the circumstances she really didn’t want things to get ugly, despite the blow to her pride. “Thanks, though,” she forced out.

  She turned to move toward the steps leading below deck, knowing the cabin was already full but willing to sit on the floor if she had to, when Cory snatched her arm and spun her around to face him again.

  “Hey, Sis!” a loud voice called from the bridge. “There’s room up here, if you want to keep me company!”

  Both Cory and Maddie looked upward. The captain was leaning out from behind the ship’s wheel, watching them intently. Both his voice and expression were calm, but Cory was not too drunk to read the unspoken — but painfully clear — subtext of the message.

  Don’t make me come down there.

  Cory dropped Maddie’s arm.

  “Cool! Thanks!” she called back brightly, her tone belying the vigorous thumping of her heart as, without looking back, she moved away from the pesky drunk and across the deck toward the bridge.

  Sheesh! Could she not go anywhere alone?

  She grabbed hold of the handrail, climbed the few steps up to the bridge, and sat down on the cushioned bench seat beside where the captain stood. “Hey, Bro,” she greeted. “Thanks for that.”

  Ben smiled at her, but given the twitch of his jaw muscles as he watched Cory and his degenerate friends settle into their seats along the bow, she suspected that if the captain were not on the job, he might also have preferred the swimming-Rolex scenario. “No problem,” he answered evenly. “Sorry it happened. We’ll try not to let them spoil the rest of your day.”

  The boat chugged out of the harbor and, with all the passengers finally seated, it kicked into high speed. The ocean wind hit Maddie square in the face, and as the bench seat began to bounce with the rhythm of the waves, her spirits buoyed. “Spoiling my day would be impossible,” she said gaily, pulling off her hat and sitting on it instead. “Jerks come along every day. The chance to see Lana'i again… not so much.”

  She was aware that her voice had become wistful, despite the need to shout above the wind. So be it. She was wistful.

  “You’ve been to Lana'i before?” Ben asked.

  The images played in Maddie’s mind like something between a movie and a fairy tale. High cliffs and crashing waves. Grassy fields with starry skies above. Tall pines dripping with foggy dew. A boy’s laughter; the twinkle in his eyes. Loving brown arms enfolding her in a hug as soft as a featherbed.

  “I grew up there,” she answered.

  “Really?” Ben exclaimed with surprise. “How long has it been since you’ve been home?”

  A less welcome image intruded into Maddie’s reverie. A dark house in a gloomy town in the middle of the mainland. She had thought it would never stop raining. This is your home now, Maddie. You’re going to live here with us for a while.

  “Lana'i hasn’t been home for a long time,” she explained. “We moved there when I was six years old, and we left when I was not quite eleven. I haven’t been back since.”

  “Wow,” Ben said after a moment. “This must be quite an event for you, then.”

  “It is,” Maddie acknowledged. “I’ve been trying to get back to Hawaii ever since, but it’s so expensive, particularly when you’re coming from the East.” She smiled to herself. “The way to do it, you see, is to plan your entire educational path so that the only logical place to do your post-doctoral fellowship is on the island of Maui.”

  Ben’s eyes lit up. “What area?” he asked, his interest obviously genuine. “I mean, your graduate work?”

  Nice… and smart, too. Maddie found her gaze straying toward the captain’s left hand. Dammit. He was already married. Of course. “I just finished up a PhD in ecology. Specifically, ecological processes — studying species interactions in changing environments. For my thesis, I studied a feral cat colony in rural Alabama.”

  She studied Ben’s reaction. This was usually the part of the conversation where, if she liked the person, she took mercy on them and shut up. Or, if she didn’t like them, she went on to elaborate about population dynamics and host-microbiome network interactions.

  “Are you going to study feral cats on Maui, too?” he asked hopefully, his hazel eyes practically dancing with delight.

  Maddie did a double take. “As a matter of fact, I am. Specifically, I’m going to be tracking patterns of parasite shed, looking at how—”

  “Please tell me you’re studying toxoplasmosis,” Ben broke in.

  The enraptured look on his face rendered Maddie momentarily speechless. “Um,” she responded finally, laughing a little, “I am studying Toxoplasma gondii, yes.”

  “That’s fabulous!” he exclaimed, his voice so exuberant that two of his crew members turned to stare, probably wondering if he had sighted a whale already. “And way overdue! You know we could be losing monk seals because of all the contaminated runoff? Spinner dolphins, too.”

  “I am aware,” Maddie replied, laughing out loud now. Nobody, short of other grad students in the exact same field, ever gave a damn about her work. Talking about it with a cute boat captain while sailing through the Au'au Channel was pure delight, even if he was already taken. “And how is it that you know so much about toxo?”

  Over the next twenty minutes, she learned that Captain Ben Parker had a master’s degree in oceanography but was interested in pretty much everything that had anything to do with the natural world. She also learned that he spent his summers r
unning similar whale-watching tours in Alaska, that he was a happily married newlywed, and that — unfortunately — he had no brother.

  Being no slouch in the art of conversation, Ben also managed to get her to divulge that she had been born in Dayton, Ohio and had lived in Sandusky, Ohio until her father landed a middle-management job with the two five-star resorts on Lana'i. She told Ben that her family had left the island because her father was offered a better position managing several state park resorts in Kentucky, but in that explanation she had been less than truthful. For one thing, the new job wasn’t better. For another, not all of the family had returned to the mainland. Her mother had died on Lana'i.

  But Maddie didn’t want to talk about that.

  “Nick!” Ben called out suddenly, gesturing to one of the younger crewmen, “Code green, starboard.”

  “Got it!” Nick answered. He slid down from his position near the mast to assist the stumbling Cory, who had left his place near the bow and was attempting to move to the back of the boat. The waves had become increasingly choppy farther from shore, and as the boat pitched more and more Maddie could see why walking steadily on the deck would take some experience, even for a sober person. The agile Nick had no trouble reaching Cory, but the overgrown frat boy would never have made it to the rear corner of the boat if not for the ship’s rail on one side and Nick on the other.

  “Whoa, take it easy, man,” Ben called out as Cory hurled what was left of his breakfast into the churning wake. “Don’t worry. Happens all the time.” Ben’s voice was suitably sympathetic, but as he turned toward Maddie with a muttered, “What a shame,” he made no effort to hide a grin.

  The next hour flew by in a happy haze of blue ocean, white sea spray, and the giant, gleaming backs and fins of several obliging whales. The weather was a perfect seventy-five degrees, drifting clouds were few and far between, and as the boat neared the sheer cliffs of the southern edge of Lana'i, Maddie’s voyage felt increasingly surreal. When the catamaran pulled within sight of Pu'u Pehe, the Sweetheart Rock, she felt sure she must be dreaming.