for him. Chords. Strumming. Fingerpicking. Eager to impress his future wife, Jaya paid close attention and tried his best during lessons. He even practiced at night on his own guitar.
Today, she’d whispered words that nearly undid him. “Jaya, you’re a natural. You learn quick.” He’d been working on Spanish Romance since she left. It was what he was practicing when his parents started today’s battle.
The terrible sound of retching and splashing dragged Jaya out of his Millie contemplation. He blinked hard and concentrated on his mother again. He watched in horror as she threw up the chips, the cookies, the cake, and the wine.
Jaya’s thoughts spun.
Why is this happening? If I was the daughter they wanted, maybe they wouldn’t fight. And Mom wouldn’t eat so much and then throw up. Is this my fault?
Suddenly Jaya wanted to disappear.
The early morning drizzle ceased just as the sun peaked above the cloudy horizon. Kalindi sat up in bed.
She yawned and stretched her arms. Then she called her children to her room. They stumbled in, just waking themselves. She patted the worn quilt on her bed. Rasa, Ach, Nitya, and Shanti hopped on, their eager eyes glued to Kalindi.
Kalindi smiled. “Today, I’m taking you to the beach. Then if you’re good, ’otai after,” she whispered. She straightened her back and crossed her arms, as if she was a ruler who’d made a generous decree to her unworthy subjects.
And this was exactly how the kids took it. The prospect of a day with their mother caused them to overflow with a quiet zeal. Their eyes shifted from Kalindi to each other and then back to Kalindi. None of them could remember the last time their mother had spent the day with them.
Nitya gazed up and to the left, her expression curious. Ach dropped his head to hide a smile. Rasa, wearing a cautious grin, looked straight at Kalindi. But Shanti couldn’t contain herself. She giggled as she jumped up and down on the bed, her sticky fingers brushing aside the strands of hair that fell in her face. With a soft touch, Rasa coaxed Shanti to sit still.
Rasa delighted in the possibility the day held—she wouldn’t have to be Mommy. There was a glimmer in her eye as she saw herself sheathed by the warm ocean for minutes at a time.
Slinking out of bed, Kalindi stood up and turned her naked body towards the open window. She inhaled deeply, tilting her head back. She let her fingers get lost in her luscious dark brown spiral locks. Her red silk robe lay in wait on a nearby chair. She wrapped it around herself and tied the black belt in a neat bow on the side. She rolled her hips to the nightstand then pressed play on her CD boombox. The watery sound of sitar flowed out of the speakers like a gentle bubbling brook. Next she opened the drawer. She took out a package of sandalwood incense and a book of matches. Seconds later thin wisps of smoke coiled up as a woody smell filled the room.
“Breakfast time,” Rasa said to her siblings. She sprung up from the bed and headed to the kitchen. She wasn’t quite sure if they had enough food for all of them. She’d spent the last of her junior black widow earnings on katsu curry and rice for last night’s dinner. But Rasa remained optimistic. After all, Kalindi had already surprised them with a promise of her time. Rasa smiled to herself and began searching for anything edible in the fridge and pantry.
Ach went to the tattered cloth sofa in the living room, settling in low with his head against the wall. Nitya and Shanti sat on the floor near his feet to play pat-a-cake.
“Toast and peanut butter coming up,” Rasa called out like a short-order cook. She stacked the last four slices of bread on a plate.
Then someone knocked on the door.
Rasa winced as she dropped two slices into the toaster. She pushed down on the lever and gritted her teeth.
Kalindi’s promise was about to be broken. Rasa felt it.
Maybe it was nothing that would spoil their plans.
Another knock, this time louder. Rasa answered the door. It was Tod, Kalindi’s pakalolo dealer. And boy toy. Tod, a twenty-something guy with scraggly blond hair and a crooked nose, always had a skateboard under one arm and a dusty backpack slung on his shoulder.
“Mornin’ m’lady,” he bellowed, looking past Rasa. The whites of his eyes were red and he wreaked of dank, musty herb.
“Tod, dahling.” Kalindi strolled into the living room. She sat on the arm of the sofa, one hand on her hip. The other hand drifted up to her hair and she twirled it. “What brings you here?” she asked, tucking some locks behind her ear.
Tod kicked off his slippers and slithered through the door to Kalindi. He kissed her on the cheek, then put a baggie of mossy green in her hand.
“Why didn’t you say so?” Kalindi breathed.
Ach’s eyes open-fired rage like a machine gun. “What about the beach?” he demanded.
Rasa glanced at her sisters. Nitya’s slumped shoulders and Shanti’s drooped head told her that they knew plans had changed.
Rasa closed the front door, squeezing the knob with all her might so she wouldn’t slam it. She looked back at Kalindi, waiting for an answer.
Tod was already taking his shirt off when Kalindi finally opened her mouth. “Not today,” she said. She stroked Tod’s tan arm. “Maybe another day,” she added. She caressed Tod’s smooth back, then nudged him into the bedroom. She headed in behind him and shut the door.
Jaya was holed up in his room, strumming and singing Nirvana’s cover of Where Did You Sleep Last Night. Lost in the sad melody, he forgot to eat breakfast. He only remembered when his stomach growled. He went downstairs to the kitchen, his mind still on Nirvana.
It all started yesterday. The day Tower Records in Kahala Mall closed its doors forever.
Tower Records was his favorite store. It was also his library. The place he spent hours reading CD covers. Listening to the latest and greatest. Learning about music and musicians.
Yesterday he was there all day. He flipped through each row of CDs. Six hours later, he got to the last aisle. The image of a naked baby in a pool, being baited by a dollar bill on a hook, drew him in like a spaceship tractor beam. The album cover reminded him of how almost everyone around him acted—as if money mattered above all else. Whether it was his parents. Their friends. His father’s colleagues. Even his classmates at Manoa Prep. Jaya squinted as he thought about this private school he was expected to graduate from. It was the most elite and expensive one on the islands. He pictured his classmates in a pool, swimming towards money. Trying to get to the cash first no matter what. Even if it meant drowning others.
Jaya’s neck was tense. He relaxed. He lifted the CD jacket to read both sides of it. It turned out to be Nirvana’s Nevermind CD. Of course Jaya had heard Nirvana songs here and there. Everyone had. But honestly he was skeptical of the whole grunge thing, preferring good old-fashioned hard rock. Still the CD cover
