"She ain't much, but she'll getcha to where you needta go."
I stared at the object in front of me doubtfully. I'm sure some people would call it a boat, but I was having a hard time placing it in that category. The sides were rusted out and the motor looked as if it would choke out if you looked at it wrong.
Crazy Steve, Cap'n Larry, and I were all standing next to the pier. I wouldn't have turned around and headed the other way if I wasn't so desperate to get where I needed to go.
"So can we get going?" I asked. Larry shoved his thumbs in his pockets and gave me a toothless smile.
"Ya-hup."
I felt like I had fallen in with the cast of Hee-Haw, a show my grandparents watched every single weekend when I was a kid. As soon as I was given the word, I hoisted myself up. The boat bobbed slightly.
"If I were yous, I'd stay clear of the front side of the island and get in around back. They're pree-ty serious about no incoming or outcoming traffic."
"They can go fuck 'em selves," Steve declared. The boat really bobbed as he scrambled aboard. His big meaty paw slapped at my shoulder, tossing me forward a good inch. "At least I got myself someone who knows how to maneuver this jalopy!"
"Let me check if there's gas in this thing and then you can compliment me," I said. I turned the key and the most horrendous motor choking noise I had ever heard erupted. Over the racket, I could hear Larry's laugh.
"Keep at it, warm her up, warm her up!" he shouted. "Just like a fine woman!"
I was pretty sure he had never met a fine woman in his day, and if he had, he wouldn't have known what to do with her to begin with. I pushed it hard, more to drown out the guys chortling than to help the boat along. After a few minutes of silent prayer and cursing, the thing cranked open and we were ready for business.
"Grab a seat!" I yelled. "We're heading out!"
The 'thump' indicated that Steve had found a place to sit down. I gave everything another once over before easing the boat away from the pier.
"If ya don't come back, I'm keeping your plane!" Larry shouted out.
"In hell!" Steve shouted back.
Those were the last two words I heard as the boat sliced through the water and gave a slight bounce from the incoming waves. Angry dark clouds loomed ahead. My hands curled up in a white knuckle grip on the wheel.
"I'm coming, Rosie," I whispered under my breath. "I'm coming."
"Oh my God."
Those three words rose up from my throat unbidden. The motor on the boat gagged pathetically as we neared the shore on the backside of the island. Steve came up beside me.
"Looks okay on this end," he declared. I couldn't disagree more. Moisture collected in my eyes as I stared at the shore.
"Nothing's okay," I said shakily.
The backside of the island was where Grandma Kalani's shack had been. I knew because just up ahead were the rocks that Rosie and I had carefully tred that day that seemed so long ago.
Had been.
Little pieces of wood still floated on the water. Most of the larger pieces were likely miles away. If that wasn't bad enough, the one remaining object, tipped over and lodged into the sand was Kalani's rocker.
Empty.
I could have played the eternal optimist and rationalized that someone had gotten to the old lady in time, but I knew it was a lie. As the boat came to a stop at the shore, I knew from the energy piercing my skin that she was gone.
That wonderful woman's wisdom no longer graced the Earth.
"You look like you're gonna barf," Steve said.
"I don't have time to barf," I said. I tossed him a glance. "You going to be okay from here?"
Steve looked around, smiling contentedly as if we had just sailed into Cozumel on a perfect, cloudless day. "I'm where I needta be," he said. In a crazy way, I knew exactly what he meant, even if we had vastly different reasons for the sentiment.
I handed him the key, eyeing the rocks. There didn't seem to be as many as I remembered. More than likely, the quake had knocked several into the waters.
"Thank you for getting me here," I said. Steve's hand slapped at my back.
"Hope you find what you're looking for," he said.
A lump rose in my throat.
All I could do was nod.
Once my feet hit sand, my body knew what to do. My sneakers slipped along the water-slicked rocks. Several times I fell to my knees, my palms scrapping against the hard stone. I didn't even bat an eye at the trickle of blood that fell from the knuckle on my thumb. I picked myself up and headed on even as the skies grew darker.
Even though I knew it wasn't so, it felt like I was the last person on earth. Besides the crash of the waves, the only other sound I heard was my own panicked breathing. Little sweat droplets fell from my nose. The humid was unbearable. I yanked off my shirt, shoving as much in my back pocket as I could.
If the trip to Kalani's had seemed long the day I went with Rosie, it was nothing compared to what it was like going alone. Dead seabirds and fish began to appear; the stench was overwhelming. I lifted my arm, pressing my nose into the crevice of my elbow. Tears fell freely. I had always been the type of guy that wasn't afraid to cry; this was one of those occasions when every tear seemed warranted.
It was well over an hour before I saw in the distance what had once been the marina and docks. Almost every single dock was gone. Several large boats were docked up on the sand, tipped on their sides or upside down.
Then there was the strip of buildings that had constantly been packed with people. Including a small little restaurant that served the best pancakes known to man...
All of it...
Destroyed.
