Midnight Lights

December 31st, 1994 – North Shore, Oahu

Today is New Years Day. Usually, it would have been a bright night; one where no inch of sky was black, but an explosion of colors only seen in the most extravagant of sunsets. The emerald moon glowed above me, the only sound coming from the ocean breeze and swaying palm trees. Little pebbles slid between my toes as I walked silently along my grandparent's gravel road. I stopped, noticing a light in the distance. It looked like a candle illuminating an abyss, flickering in its depths; a spark of hope where there should be none. I slowly inched towards it, more lights and figures becoming apparent. Large shadows danced upon an aged wood wall, disappearing into the shadows of the night.
There was Papa in his ancient koa rocking chair, staring into the little fountain of light in front of him. Little blue and orange sparks sprayed out of the little fountain, then began to fall, like shooting stars, disappearing into thin air. The only light came from an old small wax candle, illuminating a photo frame beside it. Inside the photo frame held a small, worn photo of a smiling man in a new tuxedo, holding a woman in a bridal gown. They were happy. They loved each other. They didn't have any worries, any stress, or anger, it was just them in a world that was theirs for the taking.
Papa continued to sit there motionless. His breathing was barely audible over the sound of pops and sizzles from the small candle. Long, pained breaths, followed by a short staccato breath; he wheezed, his eyes closing.
"I'm coming Joan," he whispered. Wisps of smoke floated in the night air, drifting off into the black sky, far away from sight. The candlelight flickered then faded into the night, it's warmth engulfed by a wave of cold night air.
The memories of that day remain in my head like a vivid painting. I remember the lavish bouquets of flowers; beautiful distractions for such a dark day. I remember the quiet weeping, the majority of it coming from my father. I could not bear look at him, nor hear his whimpers. It was not shame that made me feel this way, but something else; I had never seen my father cry before. The sadness that he felt as he mourned was contagious; his tears and sobbing had infected me. As my vision began to blur, I had only one thought; how could this virus bring the strongest of men to their knees.
I lay in the cool sand, it caressing me as a mother would her child. This was the closest I've got to that feeling, of being loved by my mother. The mist from the sea blew gently upon my face, a light salty taste on my tongue. As I stared into the night sky, beyond the swaying palm trees, the glistening stars and ivory moon, into the depths of the black sea above me, I begin to notice the silence. There was something missing in this silent orchestra. It was unlike the usual silence; there was a hole of where something once belonged. In its place was nothing, not one single spark of light to show me the way. There was nothing. I was lost in a maze of hopelessness with no way out.
Depression from this loss had followed me for weeks on end. My dad had been silent since this event, grunting to indicate yes or no when I asked him something. School was lurking around the corner, the feeling was that of knowing your execution date, but knowing you would be free of your worries once it has come. Hopefully, just hopefully, it would distract me from this hell.
The classrooms were silent without Josh here; he had left last year because of the depression. Many of the families had to leave this paradise for the mainland or elsewhere, but my father and I planned to stay. It would take more effort, but it was worth it. I had worked the night shift at Matsumoto's for 3 years, saving a fraction of my earnings and giving the rest to father. Father spent half of all he got on beer; the inadequate amount remaining would be for food, clothing, etc. Papa had always said to save up your money, as money was power, and more power gave you more opportunities. I feared, at the rate that my father was going, we would have to move, but we would not have enough money to afford plane tickets. This was another reason why I had saved my money; around now I was sure to have enough money for at least 1 ticket. Hopefully, in the time that I have left here, I will be able to get enough money for father's ticket as well.
A sharp pain in my hand broke my train of thought; a long, rectangular bruise appeared across the back of my hand. I looked up and stared into the eyes of my teacher, who glared back into mine. Her unforgiving eyes, along with the entire class, scanned me completely. She held the ruler as if it was some sort of sword, ready to strike again.
"Pay attention Robert! This is no time for day dreaming," she said fiercely, giving me one last glare, then returned to the board. I heard a giggle from behind me, and turned around to see who it was. In all of my life, this was the first time I had seen an angel.
She was a new student to our school; I soon learned her name was Rachel Mikomi. She was a little shorter than me, with glistening black hair. She looked at me, waved, then starting pointing at something. I stared back at her, tilting my head in confusion. I looked in the direction in which she was pointing; the front of the classroom, where my other hand suddenly burst in pain. This would be a long, painful day.
"Father, I'm just going over to Rachel's house to go study with her," I said, grabbing the door handle. He sat at his table, a cup of coffee in his left and the newspaper in the right. He didn't respond, but looked up at me, and for the first time in a long while, smiled.
"All right, but don't cause any trouble," he said, then continued to read his paper.
For about 10 minutes, we discussed what the Algebra homework was, but that got tiresome. We started talking about our families, where we had come from, our parent's jobs, etc. Her father was a businessman, and moved from place to place often. She said that he had wanted to settle down somewhere, and be a carpenter instead. Her mother was a housewife; she stayed at home and cleaned all day. She also worked part time with my father at the drugstore as a bagger. I was amazed at this thought, someone that stayed home all day and cleaned. The inside of our house was a dilapidated mess compared to here, yet, it-retained order some how. In our house, we had dirty clothes in this pile, random stuff in that pile, and old newspapers cluttered next to the front door. Here, they were actually able to close their doors and lie on their floors!
Summer had come; Rachel and I had gotten really close. She always told me of her problems; half of them were about having to study over summer break, and the other half was family issue. She never really told me much about her family issues, and I didn't want to pry, so I never asked about it.
We had spent the day at the beach, searching for fish, enjoying shave ice, and opening coconuts for fresh haupia. The manager at Matsumoto's was in a good mood that day, and said that I didn't need to come to that night's shift, and that he would cover for me.
That day had been around 2 years after I met Rachel, and I had saved up much more. Father had gotten out of his alcohol addiction, and got a job being a cashier at the local drug store. We were able to patch up the holes in our roof, pay for the mortgage, and even replace the old, broken door at the back of our house. Father and I talked more often. One night he had told me "Bill, in this life, there will be a time where you must face a difficult decision. It will be up to you to make the right choice, and stay to it. I had made the mistake of not making the right choice, and had ended up alone. But, I had you, and that was what made me realize my actions. I hope that you too, will make the right decisions when the time comes. Do not worry about me, I am elderly and have lived my years and more to come, so just live the life that you have been given. Take the chance." I was surprised in a way; I had not expected anything like this from my father. I simply nodded, and that was that.
I lied on the sand next to Rachel, staring up at the millions of bright stars accompanied by an emerald moon. It was the perfect night. I had saved up even more money after getting promoted, saved enough for a plane trip….and a ring. The day before, I had biked down into town to a fancy store, where I had found the perfect ring. This was the night.
Rachel was quiet, quieter than usual. She was in an odd mood suddenly, she seemed…nervous. I decided to break the ice and ask.
"Rachel, I have to tell you something…"
"I….I have to tell you something as well," she said reluctantly. "My mother…she had passed away the other night. Without her extra contributions, my father will not be able to live here much longer with me because it's just too expensive," she said. I was shocked. She hid this grim fact with a smile so well, that not even I had noticed. I didn't say anything, as I had expected that she had more to say. I was right.
"We have to Texas, tomorrow. Some city near Houston, at Peterson I think. I didn't have the heart to tell you before. I'm so sorry," she said, almost in a sob. I lay there, staring at the stars, unable to believe what I had just heard.
"I'm so sorry," she said, as she stood up, and walked away. I sat there, continuing to look at the stars. They were like little lights scattered across a black sea, specks of hope. The night grew cold; clouds began to fill the sky, the stars begging to disappear one by one. I remembered my father's quote. I remember my grandfather's quote. Together, they created an idea that would change my life dramatically.
I arrived at the airport, in hand a single bag with only essentials packed; a bottle of water, some clothes, and all the money I had saved. I looked around, and found what I was seeking.
"One ticket to Houstan, Texas please," I said to a man in a uniform at the counter. He looked at me, typed something into his computer, and replied-
"A single ticket for an unaccompanied minor?" He questioned. I nodded.
"One moment, please," he said. The time went by in a blur, checking my bags in, waiting for the two hours for my flight to arrive, the 5 hour flight to Texas, and waiting on the cramped, hot plane to get out.
It was close to evening, maybe an hour left before the sunset. It was rather warm, much warmer than sunset time in Hawaii. I looked around, and found a small drugstore. I picked up a small map, and a bottle of water. I drank all of it immediately, as the plane trip had dehydrated me.
I began the 25-mile journey to Peterson. I didn't have any money for a cab, and a 25-mile walk was not unlike a journey into town. I had done it once before without a map. I thought that I was able to do it again.
It was near midnight at least. I had expected the weather be warmer, like it had earlier, but the temperature dropped at an outstanding rate. I was wearing all of my shirts, 3 thin small shirts, yet the cold pierced my shirts, chilling me to my bones. My legs had ached painfully, both from the journey and the cold. In the small light from the stars, I was just barely able to read the map. I realized, I had no way of navigation. I realized, I was lost, lost in a vast desert in the middle of the night, with no sense of direction.
I decided to walk in a straight line, hoping to come upon a road of some sort, a trail, anything. At least an hour had passed, and my legs were near breaking. I had brought a heavy suitcase, which had increased my workload much more. My shoes were ripped up, the entire bottom exposed to the rough, unforgiving rock. I looked up to watch the moon while walking, something to distract me from walking. The ivory moon here was much bigger than the moon at Hawaii; it was a very impressive view. I just wish that I was able to share it with another.
I had felt weightless for a second or two; my heard sink into my stomach, then by the time I realized I was falling, I had hit the ground. I was tumbling down a rocky hill, a large bump here and there. I stuck the sides of my shoes out to help slow myself, and at the same time reached wildly for anything I could grab for. I rolled upwards, flying through the air. My amrs and legs flailed, hoping to catch onto something.
I had landed on something, my back against it. My arms were numb, along with my legs, yet my entire body felt odd. I moved my arms and legs to get it, when a wave of pain surged through my body. I heard several cracks, and was unable to move one of my arms and both of my legs. In the dark, I was able to barely see my surroundings, and myself. I saw my legs, they were twisted in unusual directions, forming horrible angles. I grimaced, realizing what had happened. The pain was unbearable, but, it began to subside. My body stopped shivering, yet felt colder, lighter. I knew what was to come. I knew I was unable to move at all, and was doomed here. In these last moments, I stared into the sky, the glistening stars. They reminded me of her eyes, the last look that I would have at her. I closed my eyes, knowing although I was hopeless and cold, I would not die alone, as you were here, with me. I knew I was to sleep peacefully and to never awake again.