WISH WARRIORS
~Puella Magi Dresden Magica~
TREASURED MEMORY – Aloha Melody
June, two years ago.
Mr. and Mrs. Rose were the definition of business casual, from their expensive yet not flashy clothes to their perfectly manicured hair and their straight-as-a-rod posture. They wore the type of pleasantry smile that takes years of practice to hone, but that smile was not reflected in their eyes, which were stone cold.
My parents sat opposite of them, also dressed neatly but more casually, with Dad wearing a polo and khaki pants and Mom wearing a nice blouse and capris. All four of them sipped tea from special tea mugs that Andy's appropriated from Japan as a result of Boss's time living in Japan while he was in the U. S. Navy. If you ignored the presence of myself and Melody, who sat with our parents across from each other, this arrangement could easily be interpreted as a boss and their spouse wanting to get to know their newly hired employee and their spouse. Though that wasn't too far from the truth, really.
"So Mr. and Mrs. Mort, what is it that you wanted to discuss with us?" Mr. Rose said in a trained neutral tone, which was the tone he always seemed to speak in.
"Well I don't know if your daughter told you already," Mom said, "But our daughter invited her to come with us on our family vacation to Hawaii. We talked it over and agreed that it would be wonderful to have Melody with us. Of course, with a decision like this Brendan and I wanted to meet with you to one, see if this is OK, and two, figure out the best way to do this if it is."
"This is the first I've heard of this," Mrs. Rose said. "John?"
"It's the first I've heard of this too," Mr. Rose said.
Mrs. Rose gave Melody a hard look while Mr. Rose followed up with, "So how does your daughter know our Melody?"
"Um, we met at last month's recital," I said, speaking for the first time since this meeting started. "The one at the Pillar of Light cathedral."
Mr. Rose's gaze switched over to me appraisingly. "And what instrument do you play?" he asked.
"Piano."
"She's the one who played Debussy's Nocturne L. 82 and Liszt's En reve," Mrs. Rose said.
I nodded my confirmation. Dang, her memory must be near perfect! Scary.
"Not bad," Mr. Rose said. "What are your grades at school?"
"Straight A's," I said quietly, not making eye contact.
"Do you get up to trouble?"
"No, sir."
"Drez is a good kid," Dad said. "She's kind, and she has a strong moral compass. May and I are very proud of her."
It felt nice to receive a vote of confidence like that from my parents, especially in the face of such intimidating figures, though it didn't make the apprehension go away.
Mr. Rose stroked his clean-shaven chin. "And what do you think of this, Melody?" he asked.
Melody's mouth opened, but if she spoke any words I did not hear them.
"Speak up, Melody," her mother said in an even tone to match her husband's own, though for a second I saw her brow creased with impatience.
". . . I want to go!" Melody nearly shouted, her head down and her eyes clamped shut.
"How long is this vacation?" Mrs. Rose asked.
"A week," Mom responded. "We leave next Saturday, and we'll arrive back the following Saturday."
"What sort of activities will you be doing?"
My parents gave a brief but thorough explanation of our itinerary. The Roses seemed to appreciate that basically the entire trip was planned out in advance. I was surprised that the conversation had lasted this long.
But then Mrs. Rose said, "Melody won't be able to participate in all of those activities. She has a rare type of arrhythmia, along with albinism. She has a pacemaker and is on medication that helps shorten the episodes, but she is still prone to dizziness and even fainting if she exerts herself too much. She requires constant monitoring. Not to mention the intense exposure to the sun would be terrible for her skin."
At this point Melody's face was in her hands, so red that I couldn't tell if she was crying or just horribly embarrassed. As for me, this was the first I'd heard of her "arrhythmia," whatever that was. I wanted to say or do something to comfort her, but I wasn't brave enough to make a move with her parents watching.
"That is perfectly fine," Mom countered instantly. "I'm a RN, and I already have to deal with constantly monitoring the health of my youngest daughter, who has type 1 diabetes."
As Mrs. Rose took that in, Mr. Rose asked, "And what is it that you do for work, Brendan?"
"I work for the government," Dad said, giving his default vague answer.
To my disbelief, Mr. Rose was nodding in approval. His wife rounded on him. "John, you aren't seriously entertaining the idea of entrusting our daughter to the care of near strangers for an entire week?"
"The Morts seem perfectly qualified to take care of our Melody."
"[beat] Will you excuse us a moment?" Mrs. Rose led her husband away for a private conversation, leaving their daughter behind.
I reached out and touched Melody's arm. "Hey, are you OK?" I asked.
She nodded, but she didn't put her hands down.
"So Melody, how old are you?" Mom asked gently.
"Twelve," Melody answered (head still in her hands).
"Oh, so you're the same age as Drez. Do you go to the same school?"
"No, I'm tutored at home."
"Have you been to Hawaii before?" Dad asked.
Melody shook her head. "I haven't even been to a beach."
"It's my first time to Hawaii, too," I said.
"Well I promise you'll have so much fun," Dad said.
At my parents' encouraging conversation, Melody had slowly lowered her hands. She hadn't been crying after all. However, it was at this moment that her parents returned, and she went back to hiding her face, all progress lost.
Mr. Rose cleared his throat and said, "Floraine and I have decided to let our daughter go on this trip."
Melody looked up at her father in total shock and disbelief.
"But that means you'll have to practice all the harder when you get back, understand?" Mrs. Rose said to Melody.
"Yes," Melody said emphatically.
Our parents sorted out the details of money, luggage, etc, exchanged contact information, and we parted ways. I waited until bedtime to text her.
D: I can't believe your parents said yes! They're so scary.
M: I think Father is trying to make a good impression with your parents. I can't imagine him letting me go for any other reason. And yeah, they are pretty scary.
D: Well in any case, I'm so happy you get to come with me! We're gonna have so much fun!
M: Yeah. I can't wait.
Goodnight, Dresden.
D: Goodnight~
The following week couldn't go by any more slowly. Not that there weren't moments of fun. My entire family bought new swimsuits for the trip. I couldn't find any one-piece or more modest two-piece swimsuits that I liked, so I got boys' swim trunks and a swim shirt. Not thrilled with the idea of walking around Hawaii all day without underwear, I also bought a bikini to wear underneath. My parents were not pleased with my choice, but after my being relentlessly difficult and disagreeable toward their suggestions, they let me do as I please out of exasperation, under the caveat that I could not wear only the bikini. As if wandering around in my underwear is a more appealing option than wandering around without underwear.
When my siblings found out that Melody would be coming with us to Hawaii, it caused some controversy. At various points all three of them had asked, "Can I bring a friend, too?" to which Mom replied, "Sure, but they'll have to pay for their own ticket and for any activities they want to join in with us." Naturally, none of their friends' parents were willing to pay for their child to join another family's vacation to Hawaii. But at least their families took vacations. When I had announced to my friends that I'd be going to Hawaii this summer, they were all jealous, of course. But when I found out that Melody's jealousy came from never having any family time with her parents, I knew that I had to appeal to my own parents for her to join us.
DAY 1
We picked up Melody from her house early in the morning while it was still dark out in order to make our 9am Hawaiian Airlines flight. On the drive to the airport, I introduced her to my siblings – my older sister Ashlyn (16), my younger brother Brock (9), and my younger sister Cynthia (7), nicknamed Cici.
Melody's parents bought her a first class ticket, and since we didn't want her to fly alone, they upgraded me to first class, too.
"This is nice," I said, reclining back in a cushy and roomy seat that resembled an entire armchair. "I'm guessing you always fly first class?"
"Yeah," Melody said, "Though I don't fly very often. Only when my recital is out-of-state or country."
"Whoa, you've been to other countries?"
"Mostly Eastern Europe. Germany, Austria, Poland, places like that."
I leaned over my armrest toward Melody. If I was in an anime my eyes would have been sparkling.
"I've always wanted to go to Germany! Have you been to Dresden?"
"Yes. Dresden is very pretty." She broke eye contact, her face flushing a bit. Seeing her reaction caused me to reciprocate. I went back to reclining, hoping she hadn't noticed. She was talking about the city, not you, so stop blushing! . . . But then why was she blushing?
I made awkward attempts at conversation as the flight started moving along, but those attempts died quickly. Melody put on headphones and listened to what was probably classical music with her eyes closed. I played Blasphemous on my Nintendo Switch, feeling increasing frustration at what I considered a lost opportunity to become better friends with Melody, who was the newest member of my friend group, and at my game, which was on the brutally unforgiving side. After about an hour an idea popped into my head that was so obvious that I hit my head back against my seat multiple times for not thinking it up earlier.
I tapped Melody on the arm. She opened her eyes, lowered her headphones, and gave an inquiring look.
"Do you want to play a game with me?" I asked.
"Sure," she said.
I set the Nintendo Switch's screen on a table in front of us and plugged it in to a nearby outlet. Ah first class convenience!
We spent most of the flight playing video games together. Mario Party was Melody's favorite because it didn't require any gaming skill. She didn't have any game consoles or a gaming computer at her house, so that was understandable.
The flight was a little over nine hours long, and by the time we touched down on Oahu, picked up our rental SUV, grabbed some food from Walmart as a dinner of sorts, and checked into the Hilton at Waikiki, it was 4:20pm. Despite feeling lethargic from the long flight, my family wanted to hit the beach as soon as possible, so we changed into our swimsuits, packed up the necessary beach supplies, and walked out of the hotel onto Waikiki Beach.
Mom, Dad, and my younger siblings immediately jumped into the ocean, while Ashlyn, Melody, and I scoured the sand and shallow waves, competing to see who could find the coolest seashell (Ashlyn's idea).
Once Melody and I were alone, Melody asked, "What do you think of my swimsuit? Be honest."
I looked Melody up and down. Her splotchy sea green swimsuit was aesthetically exactly like a wetsuit – skin tight and covering her entirely from the top of the neck down to her ankles, leaving only her head, hands, and feet exposed. Her face was a bit red, which I found puzzling considering she applied SPF 10 billion (note: slight exaggeration) sunscreen, and we hadn't been playing at Waikiki Beach for even 30 minutes yet.
"You look good in it," I said.
"You don't think it looks silly?"
"Not at all." Pre-teen Melody was already starting to show some definition, unlike me. "You could be a femme fatale from one of those spy movies. Anyway, you couldn't look any sillier than me."
"I don't think you look silly. Though I was wondering about that."
"Yeahhh I couldn't find a swimsuit that I liked, so I picked a boy's swimsuit instead. Though I am actually wearing a bikini underneath."
"Really?" Was it my imagination, or did her face turn a shade redder?
"Yeah, but it doesn't look good on me. I obviously don't have the body type for it yet, unlike my older sister. Not that my parents would allow her to wear one. I wish your type of swimsuit was at the mall. I totally would have gotten it. I hate being sunburnt." I imagined myself wearing the same kind of swimsuit as Melody, and the result was a short scarecrow girl. Then again, perhaps not.
By the end of the contest, Melody found a medium conch shell the color of the sunset, I found a large spiral shell with only the middle intact, and my sister found a crab the size of her hand.
She held up the writhing crab, and I had to take a step back to avoid its pinchers.
"Hey, watch it!" I said.
"Isn't it cool?" Ashlyn said, oblivious to my protest. "I think it wins."
"But it's not a shell."
"It's cooler than a shell."
"Don't be so sure." I displayed my find, and Melody followed suit.
Ashyn appraised them. "Nah, the crab is the best. Though those are some pretty shells. We should use them to decorate a sand castle."
"How did you manage to catch the crab?" Melody asked.
Ashlyn shrugged. "I just grabbed it out of the tide."
In the end, the crab won after all, not that any of us really cared who won anyway. We didn't keep it to decorate a sand castle, though, and we went back to the hotel soon afterward.
Our hotel room had two beds and one bathroom. Naturally, Mom and Dad got the first bed, and Cici and Melody shared the second bed. Ashlyn, Brock, and I laid out on the floor on the spaces between the beds, using extra blankets and pillows. I got the space next to the window and AC unit, below the side of the bed Melody slept on. This cramped situation was pretty standard for my family vacations. Granted we had an extra person with us this time, but it didn't feel any less comfortable than usual.
DAY 2
After eating the hotel's complimentary breakfast, we drove about twenty minutes to our first official activity of our vacation, dressed in our daytime casual wear. Though we weren't going into the water, Melody still applied sunscreen.
"I have to put on sunscreen every time I am going outside for around thirty minutes or longer," Melody explained when I asked about it, some embarrassment showing.
"What about when it's cloudy outside?" I asked.
"No matter the weather or the season, so long as it is daytime out, I have to apply sunscreen."
We packed into a helicopter with a large windowed view encompassing the entire cabin. There were just enough seats to fit all seven of us, which made my family the only passengers.
After chatting up my parents and giving a brief spiel on safety, the pilot cheerfully announced that we were taking off on our 360 Island Tour of Oahu. I heard his voice clearly through the headphones that we wore as he gave names and history and fun facts about the places we were flying over. I had never seen such naturally vibrant colors – the green of the tropical forests, the blue reflection of the ocean, both made even more eye-catching thanks to the mid-morning sun. However, the beautiful Hawaiian island was not the most radiant thing in my view.
Melody's eyes gleamed with wonder, her mouth open in awe of the type of scenery that Enya sang about. If an outsider saw my family at this moment, they would see that this very same expression was mirrored on the faces of all of us kids, with my younger siblings even more animated than the rest of us, and thus would think nothing about Melody's own expression. However, in the month I had known Melody, her face never strayed far from neutral, or even melancholic. To see her this way, face inches from the glass and with her own exclamations of amazement at Hawaii's majesty, was to me a more thrilling sight. I wanted to kiss it.
It was at the moment that I thought this that Melody turned around. Her bright smile that was now aimed at me, the possibility that I had been staring too much at her, and the sudden eye contact overwhelmed me. I froze, my face flushing.
Upon seeing that, whatever Melody was about to say was stifled, and she flushed as much as I did before whirling back to continue looking out the window.
What are you, a shoujo manga character?! The thought was directed at myself just as much as it was directed at Melody. Maybe this is just how it goes when both friends are naturally very shy.
Out of the cloud of my confused thoughts I managed to mumble, ". . . very pretty, isn't it?"
"Huh? Oh, um, yes, it is," Melody answered without turning back around. "I can't make out all of it, but the colors are really beautiful."
I wanted to ask her about what she said, but I was too afraid to because our conversation was being broadcasted through our headsets to everyone else in the helicopter. Instead, I nodded in agreement. "Mmhm!"
After returning to the hotel to change into our swimsuits and pack some food, we hopped in the SUV and drove for an hour over to North Shore to the most famous snorkel spot on Oahu, Sharks Cove.
With our snorkel gear pre-tested in my family's pool back home, we immediately dove into the waters. It took a moment for me to adjust to my flippers and not touching the coral, which was at times only a foot away from my stomach. I made it a game to follow a fish until they swam out of bounds, and that single-mindedness meant I bumped into other tourists more than a few times. With my family not too far away, we liked to go over and point out our more interesting finds to each other. There were a vibrant rainbow spectrum of fish, but my favorite fish in the water was once again a visibly happy Melody.
After a couple of hours Melody had to take a break, and I joined her. As we reclined in beach chairs under an umbrella and ate snacks, Melody said, "You don't have to be with me the whole time. If you want to go back to snorkeling, you can. I'll be fine."
"Don't worry about me," I said. "I like being with you." While my words were true, I didn't mention that I had promised Mom to keep track of her in case she experienced any health troubles.
"I like being with you too," she returned with a blush and a smile.
So cute! I wanted to tell her so, but I also didn't want to ruin the moment by making her self-conscious.
". . . Hey, so on the helicopter you mentioned that you couldn't always make out what we were flying over."
"Yeah. Because of my albinism, my vision is a bit blurry. But that's normal for me."
"Can't you wear glasses or contacts to correct it?"
"No, it's not the kind of problem that prescription glasses fix. It has to do with the lack of color in my eyes rather than the shape of them. They're also more photosensitive, which is why I wear sunglasses a lot."
I didn't think anything about how often she wore sunglasses because I wore sunglasses as much as she did.
"I do have reading glasses though," she added. "They make words bigger."
After Melody restored enough energy, she grabbed her large sun hat and we wandered over to the tide pools, which mostly consisted of sea urchins and crabs, though there was the occasional stray fish.
Unfortunately, by the time we left at sunset, none of us saw a single shark.
DAY 3
We went back to North Shore to snorkel at Turtle Bay, which wasn't as crowded as Sharks Cove, and unlike Sharks Cove's false advertising, Turtle Bay did actually have sea turtles. Beside my following around the sea turtles instead of the fish, the snorkeling experience was altogether the same. Still fun, though.
Around 2:00pm, we washed off the best we could in the showers so that we could peruse the many shops on North Shore. I swapped out my swim trunks and shirt with jean shorts and a short-sleeved hoodie, and threw on a baseball cap for good measure, with my ponytail sticking out of the back. My family made similar outfit changes. Melody wore a turquoise frock that matched the aquamarine of the swimsuit she wore underneath, along with her fashionable sun hat and a less-than-fashionable frown.
"Looking good!" I told her, giving my snappy thumb up of approval.
With that, she visibly relaxed, which made me give an involuntary, "Hehe!" She giggled in return.
We kicked off our shopping trip with food carts for a late lunch / early dinner sort of deal. My favorites were Giovanni's Shrimp Truck and Matsumoto Shave Ice. Unlike basically any place that sells shrimp, Giovanni's did not skimp on the shrimp, which is good since that's their whole gimmick. The shrimp were also pretty large and full of seasonings. Everyone in my family (and Melody) got different kinds, and we shared them. My parents didn't make Melody pay for her own food, even though she definitely had the money for it.
Of course the shrimp paled in comparison to the snow cones at Matsumoto Shave Ice.
"So many flavors!" I exclaimed. "And they even let us pick two! What kind are you going to get, Melody?"
"I'm not supposed to eat super sugary food," she said.
I furrowed my brow. "Says who? Your parents?"
"My dietician."
"Oh."
"Do you have a problem eating sweets?" Mom asked.
"Not really. . ."
"Well every master dietician knows that a kid needs her dessert!" Dad said with a wink.
"Do it do it do it," Cici chanted, wanting to be a part of the conversation.
"We can get four different flavors and share," I offered.
"OK. I guess," she gave in.
I got mango and passion fruit, and Melody got guava and papaya. Both of our shaved-ice mountains were snow-capped with sweetened condensed milk, which effectively made them ice cream. As it turned out, Melody was partial to mango and passion fruit, and I really liked the guava and papaya flavors.
"Why don't you two trade?" Brock asked when he noticed that we were eating from each other's snow cones more than our own.
I shrugged, mumbled noncommittally, and dove my spoon in for another bite of Melody's shaved ice. Melody's lack of an answer was answer enough for her part. We continued along like this, shoulder to shoulder, until the dessert was gone.
There weren't as many of those tacky souvenir shops as I supposed. Rather, the majority of North Shore's shops were either surf shops or outlet stores that carried brand name clothes and accessories – shirts, shorts, swimwear, sunglasses, footwear, etc. The Hawaiian brands were of even higher quality than the well-known names. Mom and Dad told me to look for a swimsuit, but I couldn't be bothered, since trying on a swimsuit would involve me stripping down fully naked every time, and even though I knew I'd be in the changing room behind a locked door, I still found the idea troublesome. When I told my parents this, Melody asked, "What if I picked out the swimsuit for you?"
"That's a great idea, daughter #1," Mom said to Melody, immediately jumping on board.
"You have your mission," Dad said in the tone of voice used by actors in over-the-top spy films.
Melody saluted. "I won't let you down."
"Hey!" I protested. "I haven't agreed to any of this."
"Please," Melody said.
". . . You're lucky you're so cute," I grumbled.
"What?"
"Fiiiiiiiine. Lead the way."
And from that point forward, Melody did indeed make it her mission to find me the perfect swimsuit. First, she led me around the store, comparing various swimsuits until she found her favorite in that store and had me try it on (she waited outside the changing room). I'd open up the door and "model" for her, and she'd snap a picture on her phone.
"It's so that I can compare swimsuits from different stores to see which one is truly the best," she explained.
She was efficient with this process, taking less time than my parents did to browse each store, who themselves were big shoppers.
At the fourth store, after scanning the area suspiciously, she handed me a two-piece that wasn't much more than bikini. "Go try this on."
"You know there's no way my parents would let me wear this in public," I said.
"But what if you only wore it in private?"
"Um. . . what?"
"I mean like at a pool at a friend's or family's house," she backpedaled.
It was clear to me that she really wanted me to try this on. I reconsidered the swimsuit. It was cute, with lace, ribbons, and frills that made it look like something out of a magical girls anime.
"Alright, I'll try it on, but we can't let my parents see. Which means," I grabbed Melody's hand, "you're coming in with me."
"W-wait!"
I pulled her inside the changing area stall with me before she could make a scene.
We stood there awkwardly for a moment.
"I guess I'll sit down," Melody said and took a seat on the bench.
"OK, here goes," I said quietly, mostly to myself.
I removed my hoodie, then my jeans. I started undoing my bikini strap, but Melody's undisguised staring slowed me to a stop.
"Um, would it be alright if you closed your eyes for this part?" I asked.
"Oh, um, sure," she said. She covered her eyes with her hands.
That didn't make me feel any less self-conscious, but I pushed through and put on the swimsuit. "You can look now."
She looked like she had discovered buried treasure on one of the beaches. She snapped pictures on her phone while giving me directions like this was a professional photo shoot. "Now look over here. Put this arm here, and this arm right here. Shift your weight a little to the left. Stick out your chin a bit. Not that much."
"Hey, Melody, are all these photos really necessary?"
"Absolutely."
In the end, we didn't buy the swimsuit. And since my family was too tired to go back to stores we visited previously, we didn't buy any of the other swimsuits either.
Instead I got a t-shirt made entirely from Hawaiian cotton and dyes, some very comfy shorts, and slippuhz (the local and much better name for flip-flops, not to be confused with slippers). My parents offered to buy Melody something, but she adamantly refused.
"I already got what I wanted," she said. She hadn't bought anything.
DAY 4
If there was a mountain nearby, the Mort family would inevitably climb it. Such was the case for Oahu's volcano, Diamondhead.
"I don't wanna hike," Cici complained as usual. "I wanna go to the beach!"
"The hike is only one-and-a half-miles," Dad said. "You'll live. And we're going to the beach right after."
"Are you up for hiking, Melody?" Mom asked.
"One-and-a-half miles shouldn't be a problem for me," Melody said.
Diamondhead was practically next door to our hotel, not even fifteen minutes away by car. That was where the convenience ended, however.
"Is the entire hike stairs?" This time it was Brock who was complaining. The hike started in the middle of the dormant volcano's huge crater, and none of us kids were thrilled with about a mile of stair climbing, no matter how pretty the view at the top was supposed to be. The only one who hadn't complained was Melody.
"Are you doing OK?" I asked her.
"Just a little out of breath," she said.
Whenever my family hiked, I always ended up in the front because my pace was a bit faster than everyone else's. Melody insisted on keeping up with me.
"You know, we could always slow down if you need to. It's not a big deal."
"I'm fine. Really."
I took her word for it, reasoning that my family's frequent breaks would allow Melody to catch her breath. However, the further we climbed, the more strained her breathing became.
I stopped walking. "Melody, we should really take a break and let you rest."
Melody kept trudging along. In between ragged gasps, she said at barely more than a whisper, "I told you, I'm—"
Her next step wobbled, and then, as if she was made of jelly, she collapsed.
"Melody!" I shouted. I managed to catch her by the shoulders before her head could hit the ground. "Melody, can you hear me? Hey!" I shook her a bit, but she gave no response. Whereas her breathing before was borderline hyperventilating, now her breaths were too deep but still just as thin.
Oh crap oh crap what do I do? I called out to Mom, who, because of how far ahead we were from her and her bringing up the rear with Dad, had not witnessed the fall. The urgency in my voice brought her forward in a flash.
I was sitting on the ground and resting Melody in my lap as I tried to explain to her through my tears what happened. Mom took Melody's pulse, then sat her up and listened to her heartbeat.
"She's going to be OK, sweetie," Mom assured me. "You don't have to cry. Just keep her sitting up to help her breathe."
We pulled over to the side of the trail to let other hikers pass. I sat on a bench that was luckily nearby, and I hugged Melody to keep her upright on my lap and faced her sideways so that I could see her face. Meanwhile, Mom and Dad discussed how to proceed with our hike.
"You know, you could just sit her next to you," Ashlyn said, but I wasn't having any of it. After a few minutes, the girl in my lap stirred.
"Melody, can you hear me? Are you OK?" I asked.
She nodded lethargically and mumbled an affirmative.
"Please don't do that again. You scared me."
"Sorry. . . I just didn't want to slow you down."
"That doesn't matter. What does matter is your health. Got it memorized?"
"Um. . ."
"What?"
Her face had turned red, which was something I was getting used to seeing.
"You can let go of me now."
Despite saying that, she made no effort to move off of me.
"Do you want me to let go of you?"
". . . No."
"Well OK then."
Mom checked on Melody and asked her a few questions. After Mom made sure she was indeed alright and properly hydrated, Dad asked her, "Would you be OK with me giving you a ride piggyback?"
With some encouragement, Melody agreed, and we resumed our trek with no further incident. The view at the top of the ocean, the crater, and the greenery was beautiful, but the better view we had from the helicopter tour made this one underwhelming, even after all of those stairs.
After the hike, we ate at Teddy's Burgers, which was a first for Melody, who had never been to a burger joint before. The burger and fries were too greasy for her liking, but she did enjoy her strawberry milkshake.
The next few hours were spent snorkeling at Hanauma Bay. We planned on spending the rest of the day there, but it was much smaller than we thought. Melody rested on the beach while I snorkeled for a bit. When everyone was done, we turned in to the hotel and relaxed at Waikiki Beach.
DAY 5
This was our breather day. We visited the graves of some of our great-relatives at the National Memorial Center of the Pacific, and we toured Pearl Harbor, where I gave a much more interesting historical account than what was provided, much to the chagrin of my siblings. Melody thought I was funny, at least. Then we toured Dole Plantation, which was probably the biggest tourist trap on the island. The Dole whip (basically pineapple sherbet) was yummy, though. We visited a few more shops, ate malasadas, and dined at Duke's, which was a casual but nice sit-down restaurant off of Waikiki with decent sea food and absolutely scrumptious desserts. To change things up, we hung out at the hotel's pool afterward rather than the beach.
DAY 6
Today was my day to complain. "Fishing is boring. Can't I stay at the hotel?"
"You haven't even tried it yet," Dad said. "You could end up liking it."
After seeing my skeptical expression, he added, "C'mon, doesn't deep sea fishing sound exciting?"
"Nothing with the word fishing in it sounds exciting."
"Well you're coming whether you like it or not, so you might as well make the most of it," Mom said.
Challenge accepted.
"I've got something!" Melody exclaimed two hours after we started our "expedition," to give it a more exciting name.
"That sound. . ." I said. "I recognize that sound."
"What?"
"You mean you didn't feel it? The low rumble of a monster's roar. There it is again, those tremors that threaten to shake our ship apart! This isn't just a fish you've hooked – it's Leviathan!"
"Leviathan?! But what is a monster like that doing here?"
"Every year the fairest of maidens is sacrificed to Leviathan in order to keep it from flooding the world. It must have heard such a maiden is here in Hawaii and in its hunger became impatient. Or maybe it intends to break the truce. In any case, I, a master mage, shall help you defeat it!"
"What do I do, Master Mage?"
"Reel it in, slowly and steadily. Make sure the line doesn't snap. Wrestle with it so that it does not wrestle control away from you. I'll be beside you the whole way, casting my strongest of magics!"
While Melody struggled to reel in the colossal sea serpent, I shouted out incantations that I made up on the fly and declared names for powerful sounding spells, with each spell getting its own pose. This drew contempt from some fellow fishers on the boat, and laughs from some others. My parents asked me a few times to quiet down, which I would for a minute before carrying on.
"Rrrrraaaaghhhhh!" With exaggerated effort, Melody ripped the fish out of the water.
"Leviathan is a lot tinier than I expected," she remarked.
"Yes well, thanks to my spellcraft and your unfailing strength, Leviathan is now in our grasp as a puny fish. This time it is we who shall feast on it!"
After a most heroic high five, we were informed that this was catch and release.
"The fools," I said. "They know not what terror they are allowing to escape. It will be back."
"But we will be ready," Melody said.
Between the two of us, that was the only fish we caught.
The second half of the day was spent at the swap meet, which was a huge outdoor market held in a stadium. The goods ranged from tacky tourist paraphernalia to high quality homemade Hawaiian trinkets.
After wandering around for a bit and getting a sense of the place, I turned to Melody. We spoke at the same time.
"Melody."
"Dresden."
"Um, you go first," I said.
"Would it be alright if we separated for a bit? Not because I'm mad at you or anything like that, but—"
"Actually I was about to ask the same thing. I got an idea." I tapped my forehead. "How about this? We'll text each other when we're done. That way we don't accidentally spoil what the other is doing. Agreed?"
"Agreed."
"Hold on, kiddos," Dad said. "You're not going off on your own."
Our family split in half. Dad, Ashlyn, and I went one way, and Mom, Melody, Brock, and Cici went the other. I smiled at the sight of Cici grabbing Melody's hand and pulling her along excitedly.
"So what is this idea of yours?" Dad asked.
I shrugged. "I just want to get Melody a present. That's all."
"Like what? Isn't she rich?" Ashlyn pointed out.
"Yeahhh. That's the tricky part. It needs to be something that means something."
"Do you have any idea what that could be?" Dad said.
"Let's just walk around and if I find it then I find it."
And that is exactly what we did, though it was slow going thanks to Dad being Dad and taking his time to browse. While taking a break to buy fresh coconuts as a refreshment, a stall that we had somehow missed caught my attention. I say "somehow," but it was easy to figure out why. It was hardly even a stall – just a man sitting in a chair under an umbrella next to a modest table displaying necklaces. However, unlike the phony jewelry that nearly every other stall offered, these were the real deal, made with bone, jade, ebony, and abalone, and carved with obvious care into complex and unique designs.
"I carved all of these myself," the vendor, a big Hawaiian man, said.
I gawked with undisguised eagerness. "Whoa, that one is so cool!" The necklace in question was the biggest of the bunch, a skull carved out of bone and surrounded by a halo of thin pointed teeth, like it was some kind of voodoo sigil.
"You like it? That one's my pride and joy. I always make one big one with a fully unique design. Only one in existence. Once someone buys it, it's gone."
"How much is it?"
"$350."
"Oh." Dang it, my parents only gave me $100 in spending money. I shook the thought away. Hold up, you aren't supposed to be shopping for yourself anyway. Remember your mission!
I looked through the other twenty or so designs on the table and found what I had been searching for.
"How much for that one?" I asked, pointing.
"A music lover, aye? Since it's made out of whale bone, it's a bit more expensive than the others. $180."
I gave Dad a pleading look and said, "Please Dad, she'd really like this one." Dad pursed his lips in thought.
"You said 'she,'" the vendor said. "Is this a gift for someone special?"
"Yeah, she's really important to me."
"I'll tell you what, cousin. I can bring down the price to $130. How about it?"
Dad nodded, and with his help I happily exchanged the money for the necklace.
"Thank you so much!" I said.
When we met back together with the other half of the family, I didn't ask Melody about her present, and she didn't ask me about mine. They would remain secret until the perfect moment.
DAY 7
We spent the entire day at Kailua Bay, which was a surfing beach. Mom and Dad payed for an instructor to show us the ropes for the first part of the day, since none of us had surfed before, but the two boards they rented from the shop, we had for the whole day. In between taking turns surfing, we played beach soccer (Luca wasn't there to correct me on using this word heheheheheh), jumped around in the water, and had a sand castle competition. At one point, Ashlyn and I became sea weed monsters and wrestled each other (she won, of course, since she was bigger than me). Me, Melody, and my younger siblings also had a conversation with a sea lion chillin' on the beach. We ended the action-packed day with a hole-in-the-wall named Alola Crepes, which in my opinion had the best food on the island. If only we had found it earlier.
DAY 8
Our flight home was at 11:00am, so we didn't have to get up super early. Melody was quieter than usual, but when I asked her if she was OK, she nodded with an affirmative, "Mm-hm."
"Say goodbye to Waikiki," Mom said as we drove away.
We waved goodbye with our arms sticking out the windows except Melody, who had big tears rolling down her cheeks, unable to hold herself in anymore.
"What's wrong?" I asked her.
"This is the happiest I've ever been in my life," she said through her gasps and tears. "I don't want it to end."
I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug.
My parents exchanged concerned glances.
"Oh sweetie it'll be OK," Mom said. "We'll have more family trips."
"That's right," Dad said. "And you are invited to every single one of them."
"Are you sure?" Melody asked.
"Of course," Dad assured her. "We've loved having you on this vacation with us."
"Just think of us as your second family," Mom added.
After a bit more crying, Melody managed to say, "Thank you."
On the plane flight home, back in our first class seating, I pulled out the necklace.
"I got this for you," I said, handing it to her.
"Oh my gosh," Melody said. She held it up to examine it. It was whale bone delicately carved into a treble clef that ended in the classic Hawaiian fish hook design. She put it on.
"I wanted to get you something to remember the trip by, and to symbolize our friendship or whatever," I said casually.
"I love it. Thank you so much!" She leaned over, hugged me, and kissed me on the cheek, turning them red, which I was sure Melody was getting used to.
"I have something for you too," she said. From her bag she revealed the voodoo skull necklace.
Now it was my turn to say, "Oh my gosh!" She gave it to me.
"This is from the same shop I got yours from," I said. "I remember this necklace because of how awesome it is."
"Hehe, I thought you'd like it. Actually, that explains something. The shopkeeper insisted on giving me a discount, even though I told him I didn't need it. I think he figured us out."
I put the necklace on while she talked. "How does it look?"
"It's certainly eye-catching."
"I wonder if they'll let me wear it at school. . . Oh! I almost forgot! Thank you so much!" Following her lead, I leaned over and hugged her and went in for a kiss on the cheek. Except at that moment, Melody turned her head toward me, probably to say something, so I ended up kissing her right on the lips.
"Oh, um, I didn't, I mean, sorry!" After my eloquent whatever that was, I sunk into my seat, eyes shut tight. If I was a cartoon character, that would have been a KO. This lasted for a solid ten minutes.
I found it odd when my parents drove to our house before driving Melody back to hers. The question in her expression reflected that she noticed this turn of events as well.
Dad led us all in unpacking the car while Mom said, "Melody, could you come here for a second?" She led Melody into her room and closed the door.
"What's going on?" I asked Dad.
"Grown up stuff," Dad said. "Don't worry, she's not in trouble."
Mom's talk with Melody lasted five minutes, and Melody seemed untroubled by it. When we were alone in my room (she followed me up while I was bringing my luggage to my room), I asked her, "What did my mom have to say?"
"Oh, she asked me if my parents were abusing me," Melody said.
"For real?" At that moment, my mom (and my dad, too, since he was obviously in on it) were the coolest people I knew.
"Yeah. But don't worry, I'm not being abused."
"Good. You know, Melody, you really do have an open invitation. You can come over whenever you want. I'll even text whenever my family decides to go out and do something. We love you."
She looked like she was about to cry again. "I love you too." We hugged.
On the car ride back to her house, Melody made me swear not to tell Luca, Fieros, or Shanoa about her health problems. I have kept that promise to this day, and to this day we still wear our Hawaiian necklaces.