Heidi pursed her lips and tried to follow Kaia. After about fifteen minutes, she dropped her hands. “I don’t think I’ll ever learn it. Why bother?”
“The hula is not just a dance,” Kaia said, “but our culture. Important things like Hawaiian history and legends, the Hawaiian language, prayers, poetry, daily life—it’s all in the hula dance. Study the hula, and you learn a whole lot about Hawai’i besides just the dance.”
Kaia touched Heidi’s head. “It takes time. We’ll work on it more another day.” Kaia watched her join the children who had attended the lu’au with their parents. She found a large piece of driftwood near the bonfire and dropped onto it. The blaze had died to embers now, and people had begun to depart. The aroma of roast pig from the now-open pit off to her right no longer smelled appetizing with her stomach full.
Her brother Mano sat on the piece of driftwood with her. He glanced at her but didn’t say anything. He seemed lost in thought, his usually smiling face pensive. Mano was the shark that his Hawaiian name meant. He carried not an ounce of extra fat, his strength stood him in good stead as a Navy SEAL, and he was the fastest swimmer Kaia had ever seen. Given the tension between her brothers, she wondered if it had been a good idea for both of them to take leave at the same time.
The festivities were almost over, and she felt every minute of the late hour. The children began to sing a song about dolphins, and Kaia smiled. She loved this song, and she chimed in. Several people glanced at her, and the song died on her lips.
Heidi scooted over beside her. “Your voice sounds funny. Like all the notes are the same.”
Their grandfather was on the other side of the bonfire. He grinned. “Kaia has a beautiful face but the voice of a frog.” He directed his gaze at Kaia. “Your rendering of the hula made me wish my old limbs could move like that. I could try it, but I’d likely be too crippled to walk tomorrow.” He grinned and laid his gnarled hand on her head.
Kaia dug her toes into the cool sand. “As much as I love music, you’d think God would have given me a singing voice as well.” She watched Heidi get up to roast a marshmallow.
“I am proud of you just like you are, lei aloha.”
Her grandfather’s words and the way he called her “dear child” in Hawaiian filled Kaia’s chest with a tight feeling. Her grandfather wasn’t often so serious. Laughter was as essential to her grandfather as approval was to her. She wished she didn’t have such a need to make other people happy. In her head she knew God’s approval should be enough, but she craved praise the way crabs craved the hot sun. It had driven her to excel in school and to seek a career that was hard to attain. In the back of her mind, she knew reaching great heights as a marine biologist wouldn’t bring her mother back.
“Mahalo, Tutu kane,” she said.
Oke glanced toward Mano. Avoiding his grandfather’s gaze, Mano kicked off his slippers then slid from the driftwood onto the beach. He stared into the embers the wind kicked into the sky.
“If that face gets any longer, I can use it for bait,” Oke said in a jovial tone of voice.
“Don’t try to cheer me up, Tutu kane.”
“I wouldn’t think of it,” Oke said, his smile widening. “If misery makes you happy, who am I to complain?”
“Did you and Bane have a fight?” Kaia wished she could heal the breach between her brothers. Sometimes she felt like a juggler with a burning torch in each hand.
“You could call it that.” Mano didn’t look at either of them.
“Your fault, huh?” Kaia sympathized. Sometimes Bane took his position as older brother too seriously. They all had to make their own mistakes.
He shrugged. “I get tired of him telling me what to do. He’s not the all-knowing, wise kahuna. That title goes to Tutu kane.”
Their grandfather smiled. “I think I’ve abdicated that position to Bane. He’s wiser than I was at his age. You should listen to him.”
“Easy for you to say,” Mano ground out. “You don’t have to deal with his constant disapproval.” He glowered at his brother, who stood talking to a few lingering patrons. “I get here after working all day, and he starts in.”
“What was the argument about?” Maybe she could get him to cool down.
“He keeps harping on Pele Hawai′i. I get tired of hearing his opinion. If he’d go with me one time, he’d see it isn’t the radical group he thinks it is.” Mano glanced up at her. “He wants me to get out.”
“Bane proves his wisdom by this advice.” Oke frowned and reached down to take a handful of sand, which he sifted through his fingers.