The Bone Field by Debra Bokur (top e book reader txt) 📕

“Nice,” she said, standing beside him. “That would look beautiful on your dining room table.”

“Yes,” he said, running a finger gently along the bowl’s rim. “I am thinking of buying it for Birta as a gift. Her birthday is next week.”

“I didn’t know,” she said, thinking that she should. Birta had been her neighbor for years, and it seemed a simple thing to know about her. She looked up at Elvar. “I don’t know your birthday, either, come to think of it.”

“March first. I’m a Pisces. What about you?”

“July sixth,” she said.

“Ah. That makes you a Cancer, and both of us water signs.” He smiled. “Very compatible, according to the zodiac.”

His observation was followed by an awkward silence.

“Good to know,” she said, her words coming in a sudden rush. “I wouldn’t want to be at odds with Hilo’s favorite babysitter.”

Elvar looked down at the bowl in his hands, and Kali mentally kicked herself. She had meant to say something more personal, but words had failed her.

“No, we can’t have that,” he said. He looked at her, his gaze steady. “I must not keep you from getting ready. Walter told me you are performing a traditional dance tonight. I look forward to seeing it. Birta should be here soon as well, and I know we will both enjoy your performance.”

She took a deep breath, not knowing exactly how to put into words all the things she wanted to say. “Elvar, I know I’ve already said thank you, but I hope you know how much. . . how much I appreciate what you did for me.”

He looked into her eyes. “I am just grateful you are safe and on the mend.” He smiled again, wider this time. “And I have no doubt that you would do the same for me.”

She stood, trying with all her heart to come up with better words. He waited, but she looked away, and he turned to speak to the wood artist. Kali stepped back into the path that had been created between the tables and displays, again feeling as though an important moment had been lost. As she approached the stage area, she saw Tua standing by the backstage steps. He was holding a clipboard, waving to her as she drew closer.

“They roped you in as well, I see,” she said.

He shrugged. “I don’t mind. I’ve helped out before, and enjoy the energy of the festival. At least,” he said, looking meaningfully at her, “no one got me to agree to dance.”

“But you do dance,” she protested. “Quite beautifully, too.”

He bowed slightly. “That’s very kind of you. But my hula practice isn’t for general public consumption. I get a little nervous when too many people are watching.”

She looked up at the stage. A trio of drummers dressed in brightly patterned sarongs was performing, and the delighted crowd had been mesmerized into silence.

“Am I next?”

“Almost. I’m going to offer a chant, and then the musicians will begin your song. You can walk on as I walk off.”

“Okay. Just a warning: I haven’t danced onstage since I was a kid, and my teacher at the hlau hula volunteered our class to perform at a wedding.”

“You’ll be fine!” His eyes twinkled. “But just to add a little pressure, you should know that Walter won the ukulele solo competition.”

She laughed. “Oh dear. Guess I’d better get my game on for the glory of the department.”

The drummers had finished, and Tua put down his clipboard and walked out onto the center of the stage. The cheering crowd quieted. In the sky, the full moon shone brightly. The torchlights flickered, and Tua bowed his head. Then the deep, resonant sound of his voice filled the air as he offered a traditional mele‘ina that told of the Hawaiian people’s deep and respectful connection to the land.

Next to the stage, Kali listened, her heart filled with his words and the images they evoked. She adjusted her dress. The skirt of the sea-green silk material lightly skimmed her body, falling to her upper calves. There was a lei of soft, fresh plumeria flowers around her neck. Her hair was loose, and she wore a single white plumeria blossom tucked behind her right ear. She had hesitated before placing it, as the position of the flower indicated that she was an available single woman, but had decided at the last minute that it was appropriate.

Tua finished his chant, and the band moved back into position. She made one final search for Makena in the crowd, then allowed herself to accept the simple truth that she was alone. Taking a deep breath, she stepped onto the wooden boards of the stage in her bare feet. The song she had chosen to dance to was one she had listened to countless times. It told a melancholy story of loss, but ended with the promise of renewal. It was a fitting choice, she felt, given her mood of late. The crowd in front of her grew silent, watching in appreciation as she swayed and moved across the stage. She smiled as she danced, but it was a humble smile, not one that would challenge or tempt any jealous gods or goddesses who might be lingering in the shadows.

She could see Walter in the front row. He was standing next to Birta and Elvar, who was smiling. Their gazes were fixed upon her. She let herself slip more deeply into her dance. There was optimism in the words of the song as it approached its end. What is it that I hope for? she asked herself. And then, as she caught another glimpse of Elvar, Who is it that I’m dancing for? She stepped sideways in a kâholo movement to the right, moving closer to the space where he stood. Is it for the past, or am I dancing toward the future, a different future from the one I once dreamed of?

She felt her heart racing in confusion as the last notes of the song