4 Kaua'i Me a River (14 page)

“Can I
sit up front with you?” I said. I thought it’d feel weird to sit in the back all
by myself. And I wanted to talk to the guy and see if he had anything to say
about working for my father.

Timo scowled
and slammed the door. I climbed into the passenger seat and we headed out. The
guy was no chatterbox. In fact, he answered even basic ‘icebreaker’ questions
with a ‘dunno’ or a shrug.

We drove
up the highway to Kapa’a and then just beyond town, Timo turned inland, or
mauka
.

“Phil
Wilkerson didn’t live on the ocean?” I said.

“No,”
he said. He looked over at me and must’ve realized I was growing weary of his
sullen responses because he went on. “He had other places that were on the
water. But here he liked the peace and quiet. You’ll see.”

We turned
at a single-lane road with a metal gate across it. Timo used a remote to open
the gate and soon the bumpy dirt road became just two dirt ruts winding through
overgrown vegetation. The car jostled up and down at such a pitch I had to grip
the armrest to keep from whacking my head on the side window.

“Wow,
this is pretty secluded,” I said. Outside, the car was traveling through what I
would have described as ‘jungle.’ Thick green foliage brushed against the sides
of the car, and it was hard to see more than ten feet ahead.

“Yeah.
Like I tell you, Mr. Phil liked privacy.”

When
we finally came within view of the house it was like being in an airplane
popping out of the clouds into bright sunshine. We went from deep green
overgrowth to a wide open meadow of manicured lawn. A steep mountain jutted up from
behind the house.

“This
is like a fairy tale,” I said. The large house was plantation-style, with a
shallow sloping gabled roof and a covered
lanai
, or what mainlanders
call a ‘porch’, that wrapped completely around. The main floor of the house was
raised about five feet off the ground and there were wide steps leading up to
the main level.

“Do
you know the name of that mountain?” I said. I was expecting Timo to toss me another
‘dunno’ but he surprised me.

“That
there is Sleeping Giant,” he said pointing to the main peak. “In Hawaiian, we
call it
Nounou
. The legend is that a giant drank too much at a party. He
laid down to take a nap and he never got up. See his hands on his belly?”

“Wow. Like
I said, this place reminds me of a fairy tale.”

Sunny
came out on the
lanai
to greet us. She waved as if welcoming home a long
lost relative. Then it hit me—she was my step-mother. It felt weird to claim
her as a family member, and especially weird that a woman five years younger
than me would qualify for the ‘mother’ category.

“Pali,
e komo mai
to my humble home,” she said as I got out.
Humble?
 Hardly.

“Timo,
please bring up Pali’s luggage,” she said gesturing for me to join her. 

“I
don’t have any luggage, Sunny,” I said. “I got called to Honolulu unexpectedly.
I may need to go to Kapa’a to pick up a few things before court on Monday.”

“Nonsense,”
she said. “I’ve got everything you’ll need right here. Fresh toothbrush,
shampoo and conditioner, you name it. And you can borrow a nightshirt and even
a change of underwear if you’d like. We’re about the same size.”

Oh
great. Now I’d be literally getting into my step-mother’s pants. Why had I
thought coming over here on the fly was a good idea?

 Timo
drove off to who knows where to park the car. Sunny laid a hand on my shoulder.
“Oh good news,” she said. “Peggy called and said she’s willing to talk about
not contesting the will.”

The
ex-wives keep in touch? How many women do that?

 Sunny
went on, “But she reminded me that she’s got four years to think about it.”

“Four
years?”

“Yeah,
so even if the judge says the probate is a go, anyone can come in later and mess
it up.” She nodded to a grouping of chairs on the
lanai
. “You want to
sit out here or go inside?”

“Out
here’s good.” I said. “So just anybody can contest it?”

“No,
silly. They have to be an heir.”

Something
about her patronizing tone made me clench my right hand. I decided to forgo the
small talk and cut to the chase. “Sunny, I met with Joanie at the Honolulu
airport and she told me my mother had been murdered.”

“What?”

“Yeah,
she said my dad told her about it. She said Phil told her a jealous guy killed
her and he got away with it because he was from a prominent family.” I stared
at Sunny, watching her eyes to see whether I could pick up if she’d heard the
same story from Phil.  

“Wow,
that’s crazy,” she said. “Do you believe her?”

“Why
would she lie?”

“Who
knows? Maybe because she’s still pissed that Phil left you the money. You know,
she can be nasty.”  

“True.
But I always thought there was something fishy about how my mother died. My
Auntie Mana used to talk about my mom all the time, but she never once said
anything about how she died.”

“The locals
here are like that. They don’t talk much about death and dying.”

“But
if she died in a car wreck or from an illness or something, why not just say
it? It’s not like I wanted gruesome details.”

“Maybe
you should ask her.”

“Auntie
Mana died right after I finished college.” It occurred to me that Phil would
have known that if he’d been following me like he claimed in his video.  

 “You
know, when you’re talking prominent families on Kaua'i, it’s hard to beat the Chestertons,”
said Sunny. “Peggy’s father was mayor of the island in the eighties and
nineties. And her brother AJ was kind of a stoner. Phil said AJ straightened up
later, and I guess now he’s big in resort development. But don’t believe
everything you hear. Joanie and Peggy never liked each other and one’s always
bad-mouthing the other one. Maybe Joanie just told you that out of spite.”

 “Could
be.”

“You
know, Phil and Joanie had a knock-down, drag-out divorce. And partly it was
because he stayed tight with the Chestertons his whole life. I was cool with
it, and I’m sure the other wives were too. I mean, the Chesterton name opens
doors around here. But Joanie never understood why Phil kept toadying up to his
ex-in-laws.”

“Do
you think what Joanie told me was a lie?”

“What
do you think?”

In the
silence that followed, I looked out from my comfortable perch on the
lanai.
The light was beginning to fade, but the view was still astounding. The house
was surrounded by a wide lawn bordered by a wall of palms, wide-leaf Hawaiian
philodendron,
ti
plants and brilliant red and yellow crotons.

“It’s
beautiful here,” I said.

“Yeah,
this house was your father’s favorite. He died right where you’re sitting.”

I
turned to her, speechless.

Sunny
shrugged. “One minute he was here and the next he wasn’t. It was a real crappy
day, for sure.”

Again
we lapsed into silence.

Sunny
stood up. “Let me get you something to drink.” She went inside and came out
with a pitcher and two wine glasses. “I call this ‘island sangria’,” she said.
She held up the pitcher. Her island sangria was sweet white wine infused with
chunks of orange, papaya and pineapple. She poured me a glass. I was thirsty
and the sweet wine went down easy. By my second glass, I wasn’t hearing much of
what she was saying.

“I’m
feeling a little sick,” I said dragging myself up and out of the chair. Although
I’m sure it came out more like
fella lil sock
since the wine had
definitely messed with my lip/tongue coordination.

“Why
don’t I take you out to the
ohana
? You can take a nap before we have
dinner.” 

The
ohana
,
or guest house, was about a hundred yards from the main house. It was totally
private, thanks to a tall hedge between it and the house. The driveway made a
detour to the front of the
ohana
and then continued around to join up
with the rutted road leading out to the highway.

Although
it was only one story, the
ohana
was larger than my house in
Hali’imaile. It had three bedrooms plus a spacious den, a living room, a full
kitchen, two and a half baths and a sun porch. The place could’ve easily sheltered
a family of four.

“This
is gorgeous, Sunny,” I said. “I’m sorry but I’m going to need the bathroom
right away.”

I went
into the nearby powder room and barely made it to the toilet in time. It must
have been something I ate. Or maybe it was drinking on an empty stomach.
Whatever it was, I washed my hands and splashed some water on my face and I felt
a bit better.

“Are
you okay?” said Sunny when I came back out.

“I’m
fine, but it’s been a stressful day. If it’s okay with you I think I’ll skip
dinner. I’m not that hungry.”

“Okay.
Well then, just relax. Your father loved this
ohana
,” she said. “He
loved to come out here to enjoy the quiet.”

When
she left, I plopped down on the tropical-print tapestry sofa and ran my hand across
the nubby fabric. My dad had sat on that sofa, probably even slept out on it. He’d
no doubt looked out the wide windows of the sun porch and gazed at Sleeping
Giant Mountain. I wanted to contemplate the enormity of what I’d learned in the
past four days but weariness came over me. I stretched out my legs and before I
knew it I’d conked out.

CHAPTER 17

Was the
pounding in my head? No, it was coming from somewhere else. I rubbed my eyes
and sat up. It was pitch black outside and someone was pounding on the door. I
got up but my knees buckled and I plopped back down. I heard a voice yelling my
name from the other side of the door.

I
shook my head and stood up again. This time I managed to remain vertical. I unsteadily
made my way across the dark room to the front door. The pounding and yelling
continued. I snapped on the porch light and peered through the peep-hole. I saw
the mole on Peggy Chesterton’s face magnified to the size of a fist.   

I
opened the door a crack. “What are you doing here?”

“I came
to talk to you,” she said in a slurry voice. “Are you going to let me in or
not?”

I
pulled the door open and she lumbered inside, tossing her colossal shoulder bag
on a chair before flopping down on the sofa. She looked positively wasted. I
wondered how she’d managed to get through the locked gate to the property. And
I wondered how much she’d had to drink.

“I
hear you’ve been talking to Joanie,” she said.

“More
to the point, Joanie’s been talking to me.”

“Yeah,
well whatever. Sunny told me Joanie gave you an earful of crap about how your
mother died. You don’t believe any of it, do you?”

Her
eyes were so bloodshot she looked like she’d been in a brawl.

“I
don’t know what to believe,” I said. “But it never made sense to me that she
just up and died. She was only twenty-five, you know.”

“No,
but purple have accidents all the time.” She’d said
purple
, but I
figured she meant
people
. No sense in correcting her. The way she was
acting, I was pretty sure she wouldn’t hesitate to throw a punch.

“That’s
true.”

“And I
hear your mom was one of those hippies up at Taylor Camp. Maybe she got high
and fell outta her tree house,” She shot me a crooked smile.

Maybe
a little smack-down wasn’t such a bad idea, after all. “Joanie said a guy from
a well-known island family came in one night and killed her in a jealous rage.
Seems the guy was a pot-head. And afterward, his family covered it up.”  

“Really?”
She’d lost the smile.

“From
what I’ve heard, the Chestertons are one of the most well-known families on
Kaua’i. And Sunny tells me your brother AJ was pretty fond of his
pakalolo
back in the day.” 

“Ha!
My brother and your mother? If what you’re implying wasn’t so insulting it’d be
funny. My brother owns a big chunk of this island and my father was the mayor
here for twelve years. Do you think for one minute either one of them gave two
shakes about some hippie skank on the North Shore?”

I got
up and jerked the front door open. “You better leave.” My hands were shaking
and I felt like throwing up.

She came
over and stopped in the doorway. She had an odor coming off her that reminded
me of something oozing from a hole in the ground. “I’ll leave. But before you
go shooting your mouth off, you need to remember who you’re dealing with. My
family’s been on Kaua'i since before dirt. Your father used my father’s pull to
get where he got. If your mom got herself killed, that’s too bad. But before
you go ‘slathering’ the Chesterton name you better get your facts straight.
Because around here, we don’t hold grudges. We hold funerals.”