The Bone Field by Debra Bokur (the best ebook reader for android .txt) 📗

Tua shrugged. “Maybe. There’s never been any agreement about what they mean. As far as I can tell, someone was merely documenting life in the islands. Probably only important events that warranted the effort the carvings would have taken to create.”

“No doubt.” She moved toward the Jeep, lost in thought, watching as Tua walked away.

“Mahalo nui loa, Tua!” she called in thanks.

He waved in response. “Anytime, Kali.”

CHAPTER 6

Kali backed the Jeep carefully into the parking lot of George’s Island Market. The lot was packed, which was not surprising given that it was off-season. The special room rates advertised by many of Hawai‘i’s hotels and resorts had attracted the usual crowds of tourists who’d despaired that spring would ever arrive in whatever snowy, icy town they called home.

The general store was typically the place where everyone restocked their coolers after the long, winding drive along the famed Hana Highway bordering the island’s eastern shore, and today was no exception. College-age kids in surf shorts and bikinis mingled with couples and families in brightly colored vacation clothes.

Right now, the most pressing thing on Kali’s mind was picking up a bag of dog food. It had been an extremely long day, and a hungry Hilo was more than Kali felt like dealing with this evening. She left Hilo sitting in the front passenger seat of the Jeep and told him to stay put. The sound of his moaning followed her as she walked toward the store’s entrance.

Inside the cool, air-conditioned interior, she saw that George Tsui, the store’s longtime proprietor, was seated behind the counter next to the cash register in his worn, cushioned easy chair. Tourists were milling about, examining the products displayed on the shelves. George stood up and greeted Kali the way he almost always did, reporting on the day’s headlines splashed across the front of his favorite tabloid newspaper.

“The government is putting mind control drugs into the drinking fountains in schools on the mainland,” he said. “I wonder if it will do any good.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Kali said. “For starters, when’s the last time you saw a kid actually drinking water? I don’t think they drink anything anymore unless it’s at least fifty percent sugar.”

“Good point. They should put those drugs into French fries, instead. Kids are always eating.”

Kali walked down an aisle and chose the largest bag of dog food available. She slung it across one shoulder, then moved to the next aisle and selected a loaf of cinnamon raisin bread from a display of bakery goods, smiling as she reached in front of a middle-aged lady wearing a sun visor emblazoned with the logo of a nearby resort. The woman smiled back, her expression friendly and relaxed.

George looked critically at Kali’s bread selection as she placed it on the counter in front of him.

“You should buy the whole grain kind,” he said.

“I should, you’re right. But if I did, it wouldn’t get opened until it was too stale or moldy to eat, and then I’d just feed it to the birds and drive all the way back here to get a loaf of this.”

“Seems like you’ve thought this through.”

“Pretty much.”

“Okay.” He looked at the dog food as he rang up the purchases. “At least you buy the healthy, grain-free food for Hilo. He’ll probably outlive you.”

“True,” she said as she handed him her credit card. “But not because of what either one of us is eating.”

As she gathered up the dog food and bread, George glanced meaningfully toward the door. Hilo had abandoned the Jeep, and now stood looking inside the store’s entrance, effectively blocking the exit of two women in shorts and bathing suit tops.

“Assistance needed near aisle three,” said George quietly.

Kali sighed. The tourists stood at the door, frozen, regarding Hilo with a mix of wonder and alarm. Kali silently reminded herself to put the detachable doors back onto the soft canvas frame that covered the interior of the Jeep, which might actually serve the purpose of keeping Hilo contained.

“He’s mostly harmless,” said Kali, approaching the door, smiling again in what she hoped was reassurance, the bag of dog food under one arm and the raisin bread swinging from her hand.

The women looked at her incredulously.

“Mostly?” one of them repeated, her voice faint.

“Except when he’s missed a few meals,” acknowledged Kali, gesturing to the dog food. The women backed away, allowing Kali ample room to slip outside.

Hilo wagged his tail happily, sniffing at the bag. He followed Kali back to the parking lot, leaping onto the car seat unbidden. She climbed in behind the steering wheel and started the engine.

“People are afraid of you, you know,” she said affectionately, reaching over briefly to scratch his ears. Hilo closed his eyes, leaning into Kali’s hand, enjoying the attention.

She drove slowly out of the parking lot and back onto the main road. When she reached the driveway leading to her small clapboard house by the sea, Hilo leapt out and galloped toward the porch, where someone was waiting in one of the rattan deck chairs facing outward from the house. She could hear the sound of ukulele music, and as she pulled closer, she saw the police cruiser parked in the shade. She turned off the engine and slid to the ground, making her way leisurely toward the porch steps.

“Do you ever keep your phone ringer turned on?” asked Walter from the comfort of the chair. He was holding his old, burnished ukulele angled across his lap, and he ran his fingers across the strings, punctuating his words. “Or, even better, check your texts? I’m merely asking, of course, because technically you’re on duty, and technically I shouldn’t have to drive over here to hunt you down.”

Kali eyed the ukulele. “I see you at least got in some time for a rehearsal. Don’t think I don’t know you’ve entered the contest at the festival that’s coming up at the end of the month.” She pulled up another aging rattan