Not Your Fault

Chapter 2


The warm Hawaiian breeze carried from the ocean and flitted its way across the dry golden sand making some of the grains in its path dance. It ruffled the loose waves of her hair and cooled her skin. She dug her heels into the sand enjoying the feeling of it giving way beneath her feet. Before coming to Hawaii she'd never visited the beach, to be completely honest before coming to Hawaii she had rarely been outside of Portland. She pulled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs and stared out at the choppy waters of the Pacific Ocean.

The last six months had not been easy, the nauseating nagging guilt which lay balled up in her stomach never seemed to ease and in the beginning she never seemed to sleep. Dosing off in the early hours of the morning she slept fitfully until the visions of Jim's cold, grey, lifeless body would drag her sobbing from her nightmare. She soon learned to survive mostly on a diet of strong cheap coffee and extra strong mints.

She had meandered her way awkwardly across the country, often selecting her destination based more on the price of a ticket than any well thought out plan. She furrowed her brow and pulled her legs in tighter to her body. Jim had always scolded her for that.

Jim's fist slammed down hard on the kitchen table Katie jumped nervously as the water in the glasses sloshed over the sides and pooled in little rings under the tumblers. She pursed her lips and lowered her eyes ready for the onslaught.

"Does it really take a fucking genius to figure out that if I had corn-beef hash for dinner last night then I probably wouldn't want shepherds pie for dinner tonight?"

He leant over her, and poked her harshly in the temple with his middle finger and jolted her head to the side. The jabbing of his finger hurt but physically she'd had worse. He spoke, punctuating each word with another uncomfortable poke.

"Does anything get through this thick skull of yours?"

"I'm sorry," she stuttered nervously, "I just didn't think."

"Well that's exactly your problem, you never think, that's why I have to do it for you."

She worked her way across the country, never staying in the same place for more than a few weeks at a time and worked low paying, cash-in-hand jobs. Waitressing and cleaning were by far the easiest to come by, managers rarely asked questions, they only cared about cheap labour that they didn't need to declare tax for. Most of the time her reason for moving on came from her own paranoia; a police siren which passed somewhere too near to where she was, someone being just a little too inquisitive or someone who stared at her for just a little too long

She'd been on her hands and knees scrubbing the tiled kitchen floor of a seafood restaurant in San Pedro, just west of Los Angeles, when she heard some of the other girls talking.

"You can easily make a grand," one of them declared in her Latino accent which sounded so exotic to Katie. "My cousin did it last summer."

Katie's ears pricked up and she turned to listen.

"They always make out that the cruise ship security is tight," the girl stated as she flipped her braids over one shoulder clearly basking in the attention she was now getting from all the other girls. "But they're just like the rest, as long as you don't give them any bother they don't check your credentials. No visa, no ID, nothing," she shrugged, "they just want cheap labour like everybody else does."

That was how Katie found herself down at the dock the next morning, it was so early that the sun hadn't yet peaked above the hills and the air still held a slight chill. She huddled close to the other girls, grateful that she wasn't alone surrounded by the eerily still warehouses. They needed to board the cruise ship quietly before those warehouses came alive and the group of mostly migrant workers aroused suspicion. It had only taken a week to reach Honolulu, less than that to reach the Big Island. She had been grateful that she had found her sea legs quickly, not all of the others had been so lucky and had spend more time with their heads down a lavatory than they had earning tips; that said the promise of earning $1000 was over reaching and when she eventually disembarked at the Honolulu Cruise Port she only had an extra $600. She had to remind herself that that was probably three times more than what she would normally earn in a week.

With her tattered duffle bag slung over her shoulder she wondered the streets of Honolulu; tired and hungry she eventually stumbled upon the Liliha Bakery, a non-descript cream coloured one story building which advertised coffee and cake and air conditioning for $4. The lunchtime rush had long since passed and only Katie and a few other stragglers occupied tables. The man behind the counter introduced himself as Aka and had struck up conversation with her about the pallid colour of her skin quickly declaring that she needed to surf in Hawaii and build up a tan like his. The older man had grinned wildly at her, his eyes sparking with mirth as he held up a golden brown arm.

Katie blushed and quickly glanced around at the other patrons hoping that Aka wasn't attracting too much notice; nobody was paying any attention to the man's antics, their eyes glued firmly to their newspapers, or tablets, or phones. She order a donut which Aka politely refused her and instead bagged up a coco puff declaring a money back guarantee if she didn't like it. She never got her $4 back; instead she chewed slowly savouring the chocolaty morsel and sipping slowly at her creamy coffee.

She was half way down the street when she heard a shout from behind her.

"Malihini, hey wait up."

She turned, looking over her shoulder. Aka was hurrying towards her as fast as his slightly overweight body would allow. He clutched his chest theatrically as though feigning a heart attack once he reached her.

"Malihini, you need work?" he asked as he panted slightly.

"I...," she trailed off. Her guard was up. Was he trying to help her, and if so why was he trying to help her? She backed up a step, keen to keep her distance from the man whom she'd only know for an hour. "Why?" she questioned trying to keep the distrust out of her voice, "are you looking for staff?"

Aka shook his balding head oblivious to the suspicion he had conjured. "Not me, my friend Beth. She owns a diner on Ala Moana and she needs a new waitress." He grinned at her, "shall I call her and tell her that you're coming."

Katie looked up at the man in surprise. It had been a long time since anyone had done something nice for her and she wasn't use to it. She blinked back the moisture in her eyes and hoped that Aka hadn't seen it. She gave the man a quick nod.

He beamed brightly and waved a business card at her, "here's the address, Malihini. If you get the job you need to get a tan," he started to walk away from her, calling merrily over his shoulder, "you'll scare off the tourists being that pale in Hawaii."

Less than an hour later Katie sat at a chipped wooden table being interviewed by Beth; she was a straight shooter and the interview had been done and dusted in less than 20 minutes, fifteen of those had mostly been about her living arrangements. As it turned out Beth owned the little apartment above the diner, she needed to de-clutter it which would take a few days but after that it was hers if she wanted it.

She felt that familiar pull of guilt bubbling once again when she had handed over her fake social security number and drivers licence to Beth. She wasn't a good liar but lying was a necessity and she'd gotten better at it over the past few weeks; despite that she didn't feel good about lying to someone who had shown her nothing but kindness and whom Katie had taken an instant liking to. She suspected it had mostly been the yellow wooden banana shaped ear-rings which dangled from her lobes that really clinched the deal for her; nobody who wore yellow wooden banana shaped ear-rings could be bad.

The ID's were excellent copies and Katie had blown through nearly all of her saved money to get them. On paper she was now 25 year old Katelyn Connelly, in reality the real Katelyn Connelly had died in a car accident somewhere in Texas about 3 months ago – around the same time that she met with a man who called himself Mouse in a seedy motel in Denver. Katie gave him $500 in screwed up bills and shrapnel, her face was scarlet as she counted it out to the exact nickel, and in return Mouse gave her a sympathetic smile and a little brown envelope containing the IDs. She thanked him, he wished her luck and they parted ways.

Exiting the diner that afternoon she decided to walk back along Ala Moana, she needed to get her bearings and also to find a cheap place to stay for the next few nights until Beth's apartment was ready for her. Eventually she stumbled across a budget hotel on one of the quieter side-streets, its obnoxious flashing neon sign boldly declaring 'vacancies'. She grudgingly paid the money to the all too smiley receptionist behind the front desk.

That night she perched on the window ledge in her room looking down on the nightlife below. Fancy cars sped up and down the streets revving their engines as they stopped for red lights and pedestrians, people fell out of the bars in the early hours of the morning, she could hear then talking and laughing and the occasional wolf whistle, no doubt fuelled by alcohol. She watched groups of girls, probably around her age, sauntering confidently and glamorously in their skin tight dresses and stiletto heels. She pressed her face against the cool glass. She'd never worn anything like that before and she envied them. Jim had told her that she was too short to ever pull anything like that off; she wouldn't look glamorous and sophisticated, she would look stupid and cheap. Her boobs were too small. Her ass was too fat. Her arms were too chubby. Her nose had an awkward little bump in it. She chose not to remind him that he was the one who gave her that awkward little bump; it was her fault though, she forgot to fill the car with gas on the way home from the store that day.

This was her routine, even if it hadn't been so noisy outside she still wouldn't have been able to fall asleep. She managed to dose off around 5 am, just as the sun was starting to creep its way through the early morning cloud. She woke with a start and gasped for breath sitting bolt upright, the back of her hair saturated with sweat, she wiped her hot tears on the back of her hand. It was 7:17 am and the image of Jim's blood clotting on the kitchen floor was fresh in her mind, she made it to the bathroom just in time to void her stomach, kneeling shivering on the blue tiled floor as she heaved. Flushing the toilet she curled up in a ball and sobbed. This was her routine.

A few weeks had passed since then and for once she felt a little more settled, for once she felt like she had actually put just enough physical distance between her and Portland. The memory of why she was running hadn't faded and she had begun to accept that it never would. Despite everything that Jim had done to her, despite how much hated him, she would never accept the fact that she had taken a life.


She stood up, the breeze had picked up a little since she first sat down and it whipped at her hair, she tucked a strand behind her ear with one hand and dusted the sand off of her bottom with the other as she made her way up the beach and on to the sidewalk, her sandals dangling lazily from the tips of her fingers. She dropped them to the ground and brushed off the sand before slipping her feet into them. Her wrist still ached a little from when she had fallen the day before and she rubbed it soothingly. The Commander had patched up her head pretty well; she had kept the butterfly stitches but changed the dressing which he had gently taped over the top. She shuddered, uncomfortable with having been so close to a cop and tried to push the memory away but accepted that suppressing memories wasn't really her forte.

She made her way up the stone steps of Kawaiaha'o Church. She wasn't religious, not by any stretch of the imagination but she had stumbled upon the church a few days after arriving in Hawaii. It was peaceful and cool, a welcome escape from the warm temperatures of the city which she still hadn't grown accustomed to. At first she thought maybe she would find some kind of solace or forgiveness but those hopes had been fleeting and quickly extinguished.

She paused in the brightness of the vestibule a bright pink poster tacked to the notice board stood out in a sea of non-descript white. The words of the poster leapt out at her.

Group setting. Women only. Counselling. Survivor. Domestic abuse. Confidential.

She reached out and delicately ran her fingers down the black printed text of the poster, her fingers ruffling the tear off slips which had been neatly cut at the bottom, she tore one off and studied the slip

Kawaiaha'o Church Hall – every Tuesday, 1900 – 2100 hr

"Hey," a soft voice came from behind her and she spun quickly crumpling the little pink slip of paper in her hand.

"Hi," she blurted as she eyed the young woman in front of her. She was tall, slim and pretty with caramel curls that bounced around her shoulders.

The girl smiled softly at her, "I'm Melissa," she gave her a little wave. "I help out with the group," she said delicately as she gestured toward the pink poster. "You should come, you know...if it's your thing."

Katie swallowed nervously and shook her head, "I've never..." she trailed off, unsure as to how to finish her sentence. She meant to say that she'd never spoken about it but herself preservation kicked in. She anxiously licked her lips. She'd never what? She'd never been bullied. She'd never been hit. She'd never been beaten. She'd never been raped.

Melissa spoke for her, "I never told anyone either," she offered quietly. "I never really had anyone that I could tell before."

Katie nodded and looked at the floor, her eyes clouded with tears. "I should go," she whispered tearfully. "I have somewhere to be."

She hurried toward the exit, the little pink slip still crushed in her hand.

"Wait," Melissa called after her almost pleadingly, "what's your name?"

She halted and looked back as she sucked uneasily on her bottom lip, a moment of silence past, "Katie. My name's Katie"

"Katie." She repeated kindly a small smile tugged at the corners of Melissa's lips, "I really hope you come tomorrow night. I'll save you a seat."