Haole Wood (7 page)

“Me?” My voice pitched so high I sounded like a dolphin. I didn’t know which hurt worse, my sunburn, hangover, or threat of a murder charge. What a nightmare. My grandmother began speaking to the detectives in a mixture of Hawaiian/Korean-sounding pidgin. She squeezed my hand and lifted it in the air, shaking, saying, “Not that.”

It took all my effort not to just faint and make all of the nonsense disappear. “I was at the Coconut Shack.”

The two detectives glanced at each other. “From when to when?”

“I don’t know. It’s Hawaii. Who tells time over here? I wasn’t paying attention.” I really hoped they didn’t ask me what time I got home or how I got there or where my bra was. I began to shake. A globule of sweat fell off my face and my teeth started to chatter. I couldn’t look more guilty if I tried.

“Who died?” I managed to ask. Oh no. My stomach churned. If there was such a thing as a guardian angel,
please
don’t let it be the guy I schtupped the night before. I remembered Jac’s slow smile and amazing eyes. I didn’t even realize I had been hiding a fantasy from myself that we’d see each other again.

My grandmother reached up the back of her hand to my forehead. “I don’t feel very good,” I said. Halmoni pushed one of the detectives back and pulled me over to the couch. I felt so lousy I didn’t even cringe as she patted my face.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” I shivered.

“Miss, I think you have heat exhaustion to go along with that sunburn you have there,” Detective Imada said, leaning in so close I nearly succumbed to a kimchi coma. Halmoni gingerly pulled up the sleeve of my T-shirt.

“Blisters,” half-shaved face said. He took half a step back, either to give me space or to escape the effects of his partner’s lunch.

“My head is spinning.” I reached for my water bottle on the end table and almost fainted.

“We’ll never be able to conduct an interview with Mrs. Park with her granddaughter in this condition,” Detective Imada said to not Danno. “Mrs. Park. We have a warrant to search your house. You better get her over to Dr. Case.” He put his notebook in his suit pocket. “You need to get those shoulders checked out, young lady. Looks like it could be a second degree burn to me.”

“And heat stroke,” the other detective added.

“We’ll check back with both of you later on. Don’t plan on going anywhere.”

Go where? I thought. It was all I could do to take a sip of water.

“In the meantime,” Detective Imada said, “We’re going to take a look around.”

I felt as bad as I knew I looked, and two detectives standing their looking like they were accusing me or my grandmother of killing someone didn’t help. “Who died?” I asked again. “When? What happened? And why do you think we had anything to do with it?”

“We’ll talk more later,” Detective Imada said again. “You need to get to the doctor.”

The detectives went outside to start searching. I guessed they were being polite and waiting for us to leave before they combed through the house. My head throbbed. My grandmother started nattering at me. Somehow, I figured out what she said.

“I don’t know where my bra is, Halmoni. And my shoulders hurt so bad I’m not putting my bathing suit top back on. Let’s just go see this doctor.”

I stood up and caught sight of myself in the hall mirror. The T-shirt I wore, found in a drawer leftover from years ago, probably fit me back when I was twelve years old. It was an old faded yellow Hula Grill t-shirt, soft and comfortable. It made me look strangely voluptuous, and as long as it wasn’t cold in the doctor’s office, I figured I’d be okay. I was so sweaty and wrung out I didn’t really care.

Grandmother hopped in the driver’s seat of the old jeep, which was a good thing because I was still dizzy. I got another sweating attack on the way, drenching my shirt. It didn’t take long for my grandmother to pull up to an old island house in Lahaina and park out front. I jumped out and Halmoni came over and took my hand and pulled me up the sidewalk, casting sidelong glances at me, muttering and flicking her finger at my water bottle.

“Da-di-da, da-di-da.”

I took a drink and followed her through the thick wooden door of the cottage. Great. The air conditioning was set on North Pole. I shivered. My skin under the thin T-shirt shuddered. I crossed my arms and hunched my blistered shoulders even more.

“Aloha, Mrs. Park. Detective Imada called and told us you were headed in,” said the receptionist, a beautiful—and aren’t they all—young Hawaiian girl with swingy black hair that looked like it never got snarls. She handed me a clipboard and pen. “Just take a seat and fill that out. Dr. Case has a couple of patients ahead of you.”

I followed my grandmother, and took slow, deep breaths. The old cottage living room had been turned into the waiting room. If I had been feeling better, I would have been able to relax in the space that effortlessly seemed to say aloha, with its brightly polished honey-colored wood floors, dark sage green paint on the walls, and mahogany doors and crown molding.

I sat down in a wicker chair with nubby leaf-green cushions and started to fill out my information. I glanced around and saw a mother with her young son, an older man and woman, and two teenage boys, who, if they weren’t there for acne treatment might want to reconsider. I blew out a breath. It made no difference that I was a drop-in, almost-emergency patient. I knew it was a blessing that they fit me into the schedule, but I am sometimes accused of not having much patience. I blinked and tried to whoop up a soothing yoga ohm in my head. How long would this take? I tapped the pen, jiggled my foot and went back to the forms, holding the clipboard at chest level. I shivered again. The A/C actually blew my hair.

“Mommy, Mommy.” The little boy tugged on his mother’s arm and pointed right at me and my chest. “Look at that lady’s goosebumps. That will never happen to me, right?” His eyes were huge and he looked like he wanted to cry. I hunched over even more, wincing as my T-shirt pulled against my blisters. The teens started laughing as the mother grabbed her son’s pointing finger and gave it a tight squeeze. “Hush.”

“Is she gonna die?” He asked his mom.

“Just from embarrassment,” I muttered. I crossed my arms as tightly as my sunburn would allow. I wondered again who died, and why we were suspects?

I finished filling out the paperwork and hung onto the clipboard for dear life. They finally called my name, and I followed my grandmother back to an exam room and climbed up onto the paper-covered exam table. “Dr. Case will be right with you,” the medical assistant said, looking at my flushed, sweaty skin, sneering with the superiority of a native Hawaiian with smooth brown skin and lots of melanin.

I felt a wave of dizziness and put my head between my knees as Dr. Case gave a quick knock and entered the room.

“Aloha, Mrs. Park.” I heard him say. “So your granddaughter got a bad sunburn today, hey?” From between strands of my falling hair, I saw brown feet in flip-flops, hairy legs bumping into a white medical coat. His voice sounded familiar. I lifted my head, looking all the way up to the back of my medical chart, which covered the face of Dr. Case.

“Well, let’s take a look,” he said, lowering the file. I communed with the dolphins yet again, letting out a squeak. My grandmother squinted at me. Dr. Jac Case widened his eyes. His lush lashes fluttered. I felt my flush melt into my sunburn, my pink skin a mood ring of emotions. At least he wasn’t dead.

He cleared his throat and missed my smile as he looked back at my chart again, reading it to see my name. “Ah, yes, Jaswinder.” Oh, so that’s the way it is. He’s pretending last night never happened. I never expected to see him again, either. We never did get around to discussing what medical field he was in, we had been too busy playing doctor, “Oh, yes, that feels good. Mm-hmm. Right there.”

Too bad. For a split second I thought my guardian angel served up a second chance of smoking hot surfer. We did have a lot to drink, but I did remember how sweet he had been. Especially during that last part. In the park. In the dark. By his truck . . .

“Let’s take a look at you,” he said. I wondered if he practiced that MD voice of his in the mirror. Oh, brother, suck it up, I thought. Yep. I’m your one-night stand, back to haunt you. How was I supposed to know he was really a doctor? Did he actually think I went out and deliberately got a sunburn just to dog his heels, just so I could see him again? Jac leaned in close and gently pulled up the sleeve of my shirt.

“That does not look good,” he said. The back of his hand pressed against my flushed cheek and then forehead. “How are you feeling? Dizzy? Headache?”

I nodded.

“Achy, nauseous?”

“I feel terrible.” I hiccuped and started to cry. Where on earth did that come from? Now my humiliation was complete.

“Sh, sh,” he said. “It’s okay. Your grandmother and I are going to take good care of you. Let’s get that T-shirt off and let me get a good look at your shoulders.

That stopped my tears. I twisted on the exam table and pulled my legs up, turning my back on Jac and Halmoni. I heard a drawer slide open and felt a nudge at my elbow as he handed me a folded paper gown. My shoulders became so stiff I could hardly raise my arms to get my shirt off.

“I’m just going to clean off the skin and put on an antibiotic salve,” he told me. The goop felt cool and gooey. “Just keep it clean and do not pop the blisters.” I felt him pat a piece of gauze gently and tape it to my skin.

“There,” he said. “You can put your shirt back on.” Over my shoulder I saw him looking down at me. I reached for my T-shirt and dropped the paper gown as I scrambled to cover up. I tried to hurry, knowing that my neon white goosebumply boobs were highlighted against my raw skin, which was as bright as the phosphorescence of a red tide, forming a perfect outline of my bathing suit.

I got my shirt on and turned around.

“Good,” he said. “Here.” He handed me some foil sample packets. “These are just regular aspirin to reduce the inflammation. Take two every four hours. You could get even more swollen by tomorrow morning, but then you should start feeling better. Keep a lot of fluids going and take it easy.”

“Oh. I can’t go out drinking tonight?” I gave him a wobbly smile.

He bit back his smile. “Nope. TV at home with your granny, and then an early night. I’m sure your grandmother has some herbs she’ll probably want to use on you.” He leaned in closer. I held my breath. “Just don’t let her put any of her concoctions on broken skin,” he said quietly in my ear.

“No more sun for at least a week, and then you really need to be careful. As the Australian’s say, Slip, Slop, Slap. Slip on a shirt, slop on sunscreen, SPF 45 for you, and slap on a hat.”

“Really?” I fluttered my eyelashes at him. “I had no idea. Thanks for the valuable information. Hm. Who knew the sun could burn me?” I flipped my hand up.

I finally made him laugh. “Sorry. I am not patronizing you. It’s just that you’re here, with second degree burns, and the sun is much hotter than on the mainland. We are so much closer to the equator and—”

I cut him off, raising my hand. “Thanks for the geography lesson and the super skin care lecture,” I said. I wondered why he didn’t look hungover, or why he didn’t look like he wanted to ask me out. “Sorry. That sounded mean. I wasn’t feeling very well this morning and went down to the beach and just fell asleep. I didn’t do this,” my fingers Vanna White showcased my lobster sheen, “on purpose. It’s been a bad day. And then then the police came.” Never mind. I shook my head and pushed myself off of the exam table.

“What’s wrong?” He looked at my grandmother.

“Nothing,” I said. “Forget I said anything. I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding. We’ll be fine.” I said. Thank goodness he was fine, too, as in not murdered. “Thanks for your help with all this.” I grabbed my purse and opened the door for Halmoni.

“You’re welcome, Jaswinder,” he smiled. “Mrs. Park.” He nodded. “Take care of yourself.”

What did he mean by that, I wondered. “Take
care
of yourself.” Was he asking me out? Damn my imagination. I hesitated outside of the doorway, giving him time to make his move, if he was going to.

“Why don’t you come back here tomorrow afternoon, just to make sure you’re healing up? If you don’t start to feel better, or if you have any nausea, call me. I know where you live,” he said with a smile. He handed me his business card. “You can go check out. I’ll get you some salve.”

I waited at the receptionist desk and finished my water, worried about what this would cost me. I doubted my insurance would cover this. They’d probably call my stupidity in getting a sunburn a pre-existing condition. Jac came up to me and gave me a small white paper bag.

“No charge,” he said.

“Thank you.” I melted a little more. I took the bag, feeling the heat of his fingers as our hands touched. I hurried out the front door, waiting for my grandmother to follow me. I couldn’t resist a quick look back at him. He leaned over the counter, writing notes. Not watching me.

I buckled myself in the jeep and Halmoni took off. I opened the bag to check out the medicine. My humiliation was complete. Next to the tube of Bacitracin ointment was my bra.

Back at my grandmother’s house, the detectives asked us a few more questions but had not revealed anything in return. They finally left, and left a big mess. Cupboard doors were open, and my grandmother’s herbs were spilled on the countertops and floor in green, brown leafy-mulchy mounds. What had they been looking for? I took two more aspirin.

I should have taken four more pills to deal with my parent’s phone call. “I’m not a warden. I don’t know. I’m doing the best I can.” They just never let up. I got Halmoni out of jail, just like they asked. I couldn’t tell them everything was hunky-dory, because it wasn’t. I couldn’t control my grandmother. It was all I could do to try to get control of my own life.

I flicked on the TV just in time to catch the island’s big news. Developer Mike Hokama was killed last night, found dead in suspicious circumstances in his oceanfront home. I plopped onto the couch. I felt my skin chill. His photo. Uh oh. That was him. That was the guy who licked my hand when we did shots last night. My name and phone number were in his cell phone. Halmoni and I made the same gasping sound and looked at each other, eyes wide.