Bet Your Bones Page 2

  “Hawaii’s gonna be hell on those freckles. The little ninny won’t wear sunscreen. Says God’ll take care of her. Like He gives a hoot if she’s speckled as a guinea hen.”

  Dinah said, “I don’t recall Hank being overly religious in high school.”

  “He wasn’t. He found Jesus after his accident and he’s been batty over religion ever since. Not the nice, quiet, do-unto-others kind, but the bullyin’, do-what-I-say-or-fry-in-hell kind. I tried to be sweet and understandin’. The poor guy was hurtin’ and he couldn’t work for months. But one day I woke up to his preachin’ and naggin’ at me and the frying sounded like a day at the beach. Honestly, I don’t know why I stayed with him as long as I did.”

  Dinah was still puzzling over why she’d married him in the first place, although there was never any question that Hank had worshipped the ground Claude Ann walked on. “Tell me about Xander. Apart from being brainy and handsome, what’s he like?”

  “You’re gonna just love him to death. He’s thoughtful and considerate and he has the most elegant way of talkin’, like something out of an oldtime book.” She wiggled the engagement ring under Dinah’s nose.

  “Wow. It’s stunning.”

  “He was careful to make sure it’s a non-conflict diamond. I swear, he just knows everything.”

  “What kind of a scientist is he?”

  “A volcanologist. He came out here from Maryland to go to the University of Hawaii and stayed on because, I mean, where else would a volcanologist have two active volcanoes blowing their stacks for him every day?”

  “No place as heavenly as Hawaii?” ventured Dinah, intoxicated by the perfume of her lei.

  “You got that right.” Claude Ann broke into a huge, exultant smile. “Can you believe I’ve come up so far in the world, Di? From a dumb ol’ dairy farmer in the Georgia sticks to a brilliant scientist in this incredible place? It’s like a dream. Sometimes I get scared I’ll wake up and he’ll have run off with some egghead who understands what the hell he’s talkin’ about.”

  “I’m sure Xander enjoys your sassy, non-eggy take on things,” said Dinah.

  “Yeah, but I wanted you here so he’d know I have a brainy friend, too. I told him you’re the one with a diploma that says magna cum laude. Y’all can talk Latin to each other and I won’t know if you’re flirtin’ or what.”

  Dinah frowned. She tried to be sensitive to Claude Ann’s I-didn’t-graduate-from-college-like-you-did complex, but sometimes she felt like smacking her. Everybody had begged her not to drop out of school to get married and Dinah had urged her time and again to go back and finish her education. It wasn’t as if the Taliban was preventing her. And that barb about flirting touched a nerve. Did she think…?

  “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t. I’m just kiddin’. You know I want you here ‘cause I love you. You’re the sister I never had.”

  Dinah relaxed a fraction. The things unspoken between them had made her touchy.

  The waitress arrived with two coconut shells filled with some kind of creamy goop with a yellow hibiscus floating on top.

  Claude Ann plunked a straw into the concoction and sucked down a long swig. “This drink is named after an extinct volcano here on Oahu. Seems Pele got chased by a pig god and one of her sisters sent Koko Head crater as a decoy to save her from being raped. Dippy, I know. But folks say dippy stuff all the time around here. Anyhow, this is Pele’s favorite drink.”

  Pele again. She seemed to have a grip on everyone’s imagination. Dinah took a tentative sip, expecting gin. It tasted like a coconut milkshake spiked with rum. Where liquor was concerned, it seemed that the goddess had catholic tastes. “A woman I met on the plane told me that Pele’s been cutting up rough lately. On the Big Island.”

  “Aw, just a few little jigglers. Sometimes you don’t even feel ’em.” Claude Ann added a spoonful of sugar to her Koko Head and stirred it in with her straw. “Earthquakes come in swarms, if you can believe it. Like wasps or hornets. It’s a baby volcano that’s still underwater off the southeast coast of the Big Island that’s causing ’em, but Xander says they’re harmless.”

  “I guess a volcanologist should know,” said Dinah, doubtful all the same.

  “He’s a volcanologist only part-time, really. This past year he’s spent most of his time workin’ on a major real estate deal. There’s not all that much land to build on in Hawaii and what there is of it is worth a fortune. When it sells, we’re gonna be Rockefeller rich.” She took a quick slurp and puckered her brow. “Are the Rockefellers still rich? Anyhow, Xan’s kept his hand in as a volcanologist because it gives him more credibility with the environmentalists and regulators.”

  “You’re moving awfully fast, Claudy. Shouldn’t you live together for a while and see if the infatuation lasts?”

  “I knew you’d say that. You’ve got what they call ‘trust issues’ on account of finding out at such a young age that your daddy was a drugrunnin’ skunk. It’s warped your faith in people.”

  Dinah and Claude Ann had been debating the cause and effects of Hart Pelerin’s supposed criminality since they were in the fifth grade. Dinah’s slant on her father had mellowed over the last year. Still and all, it was her experience that the capacity of human beings to lie couldn’t be overestimated. “How did you meet Xander? And where? At last check, there were no volcanoes in South Georgia.”

  “I didn’t write you, but Hank and I separated last summer. He made a big stink about wanting custody of Marywave and it took a while for the divorce to be final. In the end, the judge liked me best and Hank had to give me a whoppin’ big pile of cash. He had to take out a loan on the farm, which really honked him off, but my lawyer said I deserved half the marital assets and I got to keep the money the insurance company paid me after Hank’s car wreck for my loss of consortium. Anyhow, when the hoopla was over, I wanted to get as far away from Needmore as I could go where they still speak English. As soon as school was out, I hogtied Marywave and bundled her off to Maui. I met Xan when I went paraglidin’ off Haleakala and my feet haven’t touched the ground since.”

  Dinah felt the unromantic prick of skepticism. Just how whopping a pile had Hank coughed up and how recklessly had the gay divorcée been flaunting it? “Are you sure Xander’s the real deal, Claudy? He sounds almost too good to be true.”

  “I’m a thousand percent sure. Hank was plain and borin’ as burlap, but Xander’s smooth as silk. You know what he says? He says Hank was infra dig. Isn’t that a scrumptious word? I love it, even if it is Latin. It means beneath one’s dignity and Hank was that, all right.”

  Hank was about as suave as a herd of Holsteins, but he was honest and hard working and beneath nobody’s dignity. He had developed his family’s dairy into a top regional brand and, in spite of a sort of innate gloominess, he had tried to make Claude Ann happy—a pied-à-terre in Atlanta where she could shop ’til she dropped and there’d been two or three vacations to Europe. Dinah felt she should put in a good word for him, but there was no percentage in sticking up for an ex. “Is Hank badly crippled from his accident?”

  “They had to amputate his left leg, but he’s back managin’ the farm, bossin’ the help around same as always. Sheesh, I can’t see why he’s so bent out of shape about the divorce. Jiminy Christmas, we haven’t had consortium since his wreck.”

  Dinah didn’t need the intimate details. “I guess Marywave misses her dad.”

  “Yeah.” Claude Ann looked again to make sure Marywave was still there. “I had to give her her own cell phone so she could keep in touch with her friends back home, but she mostly jaws with Hank. After she told him about me and Xander, he started sending me wacko letters warnin’ me to repent before it’s too late. Wantonness and licentiousness and walkin’ after ungodly lusts. Sheesh. To read one of his rants, you’d think I’d taken up streetwalkin’.”

  Dinah d
idn’t like the drift of Hank’s thoughts. Every day of the week some unhinged man gunned down his wife, his children, and any bystanders unlucky enough to be caught in his cross hairs. “Has he threatened you, Claude Ann?”

  “Nah. He’s gonna leave my punishment to God. I just wish he wouldn’t brainwash Marywave.” She shook off the mood and put on a big smile. “But I’m not worried. She’ll come around once she starts school out here.”

  “Your letter mentioned that Xander has children. Does Marywave get along with them?”

  “She won’t have to. They’re as old as we are.”

  Dinah did the math. Xander had to be in his fifties. “How long has Xan been divorced?”

  “He’s not divorced. His wife died over twenty years ago and he’s never remarried.”

  “How is it that someone that wonderful managed to stay single for so many years?”

  Claude Ann added another spoonful of sugar to her Koko Head. “I think he was afraid to let himself fall in love again until now. His wife dived off a cliff into the ocean and killed herself. He must’ve been super traumatized. After all these years, he still gets grouchy if anybody goes near the subject. The only reason I know about it is ‘cause Lyssa, that’s his daughter, dropped it into the conversation like a live rat. Lyssa’s a bitch, but I had to include her in the weddin’ for Xan’s sake. Thank God she’s married and lives way off in Virginia so we won’t have to fake the sweetness and light all that often. Her husband is worse than she is. A real snake-in-the-grass. Xan’s son Jon lives on the Big Island, but he’s kind of a hermit.”

  “Will he come to the wedding?”

  “I hope so. He’s the apple of Xan’s eye, but there was some kind of a silly rift and they don’t talk much.” She reached across the table and clasped Dinah’s hands. “Gosh, I’m glad you came, Di. I want things between us to be like they used to be. I was mad at you for a long time. Mostly, I think I was mad at myself. Anyhow, I’ve missed you.”

  Dinah had a momentary urge to blurt out the truth, but it no longer mattered. In fact, it would be gratuitous cruelty. Claude Ann was in love again and Dinah was beginning to see this breakup with Hank as a culmination of her own guilt. Everything had worked out for the best and she was more than ready to let bygones be bygones. “I’ve missed you, too, Claudy. More than you know. And it’ll be great to see your parents again. Have they arrived yet?”

  “They’re not coming.”

  “Why? They’re not ill, are they?”

  Claude Ann’s eyes wandered. “I didn’t invite them.”

  “But, you’re their only child. They’ll be so hurt.”

  “They’ll be better off waitin’ ’til I’m settled.” Still, she didn’t meet Dinah’s eyes. Something was wrong.

  “Why aren’t they coming, Claude Ann?”

  She made an airy gesture of dismissal. “Oh, you know how they are, Needmore through and through. Daddy would want Xander to take him squirrel huntin’ and Mama would fire the caterers and serve catfish and hush puppies at the reception.”

  “You’re embarrassed for Xander to meet them.”

  “I am not! Xan’s not the least bit snobby.”

  “What is it then?”

  She clouded up and bit her lip. “Some stupid people have been protestin’ Xander’s development. Some malarkey about the bones of an ol’ Hawaiian king buried on the property. They follow us around wavin’ signs and shoutin’ all kinds of nutty things. Daddy and Mama wouldn’t know what to make of their hoo-ha.”

  “Can’t Xander get an injunction or something?”

  “He acts, I don’t know, kind of buffaloed. Like he has to tiptoe around ’em. I’ll bring the folks out after I’m settled. Speaking of not being settled, you sure jet around. Australia, Panama, the Philippines. Loved your postcards. I want to hear about all your travels and your boyfriends. Are you still goin’ hot ‘n heavy with that guy in Seattle? Nick something or other?”

  “We split a year ago.”

  “Oh, honey. I’m sorry. It sounded for a while there like you’d met the love of your life.”

  “He wasn’t the man I thought he was.” Dinah concealed a pang of irritation. It wasn’t as pleasant to reflect on one’s own romantic miscalculations as it was someone else’s.

  “Well, I hope he didn’t aggravate your trust issues. Hold on! I almost forgot.” Claude Ann whipped a small, beribboned box out of her handbag. “These are for you.”

  Dinah untied the ribbon, opened the box, and held up a pair of earrings with clusters of shiny black stones dangling on delicate gold chains. “They’re lovely.”

  “Those doodads shot right out of one of Xander’s volcanoes. They’re called Pele’s tears. I had a jeweler polish them and set them in gold for you. I didn’t give you a gift the last time you stood up for me and I wanted to give you something special this time.”

  Dinah removed her silver hoops and fastened them in her ears. “How do they look?”

  “Killer. With that long neck and square jaw of yours, you were meant to wear dangles. And I see you still have great taste in handbags.” She held up a black leather hobo purse identical to Dinah’s and pulled out her wallet. “We’re runnin’ late. Dump a handful of those nuts in your purse and let’s roll. Xander’s meetin’ us at the hotel over by Diamond Head. We’re gonna spend two nights here on Oahu. We’ll do our fittings tomorrow afternoon and Xan’s hostin’ a party for some of his Honolulu buds in the evening. We’ll fly on to the Big Island the morning after that.” She dealt a fifty off a deck of new greenbacks, dropped it on the table, and bounced up ready to go.

  “Aren’t you going to wait for some change?”

  “This isn’t the Garden of Eat’n in Needmore. People around here tip big.” She hoisted Dinah’s suitcase and streaked toward the door like a greyhound after a mechanical rabbit.

  Not that big, thought Dinah, shouldering her bag and falling into step behind her.

  “Get a move on, Marywave,” sang out Claude Ann. “Let’s go! Chop-chop!”

  Marywave hopped off the bench and scampered along at Dinah’s side. As they hustled out of the terminal into the late afternoon sunshine, she said, “If it wasn’t for you, I never woulda been born.”

  Dinah gave her a sharp look. “What do you mean?”

  “I heard Mama arguin’ with Gran about divorcin’ Daddy. Gran called Mama a quitter and Mama said if you hadn’t made such a big fat fool of her, she wouldn’t have married anybody, especially not Daddy.”

  Dinah froze. This was an omen. Turn on your heel this instant, she told herself. Turn and take the next flight back to Manila. But Marywave snatched her hand and began running and she felt herself dragged, irresistibly, over the cliff into Claude Ann’s life again.

  Chapter Three

  The Olopana Hotel was located in a swank residential neighborhood at the end of an alley overarched by massive banyan trees. It was 7:30 by the time Claude Ann turned her rental car into the twilit hotel drive and, at first, Dinah couldn’t make out what was happening in front of the entrance. There seemed to be some kind of a disturbance. A shadowy mob brandished torches and waved signs. A police car with its lights flashing sat parked under the portico and two uniformed cops and a valet appeared to be in a dispute with an immense woman who was shaking some kind of a bamboo rattle. As Claude Ann’s car pulled closer, Dinah read the crudely lettered signs. Uwahi Joose! and Garst Steals From The Kanaka Maoli And See Pele’s Revenge.

  “It’s those damn people again.” Claude Ann parked behind the police car and put a hand to her face. “See what I mean?”

  “Roll down your window, Claudy.” Dinah craned her neck to see out the driver’s side window.

  “That ugly ol’ battleax has been harassin’ us all week and the police can’t seem to do a damn thing about it.”

  The big woman’s voice
thundered. “Dat buggah Garst tink our land just dirt and rocks to be dug up and planted wid houses. Da land is da body of Pele. No moa houses!”

  Claude Ann ticked her fingernails against her teeth, as if poised between fight and flight. “They just won’t let up. All those hateful, nutty signs. I thought Hawaiians spoke English.” Tears welling, she launched out of the door. “Go away! Go away, you people! Go away and leave me and my fiancé alone.”

  A burly, brown-skinned cop lowered his arm like a turnstile in front of Claude Ann. “Go inside the hotel, ma’am. Don’t escalate the situation.”

  Dinah got out of the car, moved around beside Claude Ann, and took her arm. “Let the police handle it, Claudy.”

  “Well, they’re not handlin’ it. What’s that sign about revenge? Are they threatenin’ us, officer? What do those other signs say?”

  “Dey say Pele can’t be zoned.” The big woman’s voice rumbled, low and freighted with foreboding. “Pele can’t be platted and subdivided. Tell yo man he bettah leave Uwahi alone.” The red light from the police car strobing across her broad, pugnacious face lent an aura of menace.

  “It’s a free country,” said Claude Ann. “People can do whatever they like with their own property.”

  “Please, ma’am,” said the cop, taking Claude Ann by the arm and turning her toward the door. “Do as I ask. Go inside and let the police handle the problem.”

  Claude Ann threw off his hand. “Whose side are you on?”

  “They have a right to hold a peaceful demonstratation, ma’am.”

  The big woman pointed her bamboo rattle at Claude Ann. “If Garst wants a beef, we geev ‘im beef. You tell ‘im Uwahi bring ‘im bachi plenny koke.”

  “What kind of mumbo jumbo is that?” demanded Claude Ann. “Officer?”

  “It’s pidgin,” said the cop. “She says the Uwahi project is bad karma.”

  “Sheesh!”

  A TV truck rolled up behind Claude Ann’s car and a man with a shoulder-mounted camera jumped out and began to film the scene.