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

column, which she pulled out and spread across the surface of the cot.

Instead of making up the bed, she gathered the sheets and pillowcases and sat down on the edge of the cot, clutching the stack of linen in her arms. She looked through the door to the living room. The back of the sofa was visible, and she could hear Makena’s voice, talking softly to the dog. She remembered, suddenly, a long-ago morning on O‘ahu, when she had volunteered to teach Makena to surf while Mike was busy. It was an attempt at bonding, but it had felt like something more—a sharing of knowledge and tradition, two women from different generations communing with the vast, restless sea. That day, Kali had been filled with hope for the future and all that it might hold: a family, even ready-made, and the welcome responsibility of teaching the child by her side how to become a woman.

She caught her breath in sudden grief. This girl was ill-equipped to care for a baby, and had already proven beyond the shadow of a doubt, unable to care for herself. She wished for a moment that Mike was here to help sort this out. The fleeting thought was replaced instantly with a feeling of gratitude that he had been spared. His life had ended tragically in an act of violence, but at least it had been swift and he’d been spared the anguish of watching his only child deteriorate over the years.

She rose to her feet to finish making up the bed, choosing two thick pillows and a light, soft quilt in case the night became cool. She would make something to eat and see that Makena went to bed with enough nourishment inside of her to pass along to her baby. At least for tonight, there was nothing else that could be done.

CHAPTER 13

Kali sat beside Walter in the patrol car. It was morning, and she’d left Makena at her house, still asleep. Walter started the engine and they waited for the air-conditioning to get up to speed before they pulled out onto the road. The windows were still rolled all the way down, and the hot air that had already settled across the dashboard and the seats had yet to cool.

The weather had been unusually scorching. Kali longed for a strong trade wind to lift the heat and carry it away—and there would be no argument from her if the wind chose to take the burden of Makena along at the same time.

Walter had asked her to ride along to follow up on a lead to the illegal rooster fighting he was investigating, as she had history with Angelo Mendoza, who was a suspect. A bust of a staged fight had been attempted the night before, but someone had gotten word that the police had found out about the cock fight, and there had been nothing to be found at the address where the event was supposed to have taken place.

Kali moved the conversation to Makena. She’d just finished filling Walter in on the details of the pregnancy, but he had yet to respond. She glanced at him, waiting until he’d adequately processed the story before she said anything more.

He sat quietly, staring ahead, then grunted. “She say anything useful, like who the father might be?”

“I haven’t pushed the conversation that far yet.”

“Odds aren’t great that this will end well,” he offered. “Lots of babies born to heavy drug users . . .”

“. . . are stillbirths, or arrive with their own drug dependency already in place. Yeah. I know.”

“How far along do you think she is?”

“About five months, from what I was able to gather, though she doesn’t look it. Skin and bones. I’m not sure how much attention she’s been paying.”

Walter turned, looking intently at Kali. “Hey, you know what? This kind of makes you a grandma.” He threw his head back and laughed, the deep sound reverberating throughout the car.

Kali took on a murderous expression. “You’re hilarious, as usual. She’s no relation of mine.”

“Sort of she is, right? I mean, if Mike hadn’t died . . .”

“Been killed.”

“Okay, if Mike hadn’t been killed, you’d have been married, and Makena would have been your legal stepdaughter.” He laughed again, holding his side and sliding down in his seat. “Okay, okay, I’ll concede on the details. This makes you almost a stepgrandma. How’s that?”

“Shut up, Walter. Just shut the hell up.” She was in no mood. “I’m telling you all this because I could use some actual help figuring out what to do. You’re the one with all the kids. How is this supposed to work? Did Nina do something special when she was pregnant with your girls?”

He wiped his eyes and sat up a little straighter. He pressed the button that automatically rolled up the windows, then looked carefully in his rearview mirror and out the side windows before easing the car from its parking space.

“Well, yeah, but Nina is healthy. Woman won’t even take an aspirin when she has a headache. And you know how she insists on all the food that comes into the house being organic. Free-range mangoes and all that.”

Kali was silent. She knew that Makena’s diet too often consisted of what she could harvest from garbage cans, or steal off store shelves. “I made an appointment for her to get a checkup at the clinic,” she finally said, “and also to see what she needs in general.”

“Good,” said Walter. “I remember that Nina was big on those prenatal vitamins. And she was always going off to some kind of yoga class that was for pregnant women, to help make the delivery easier. Maybe you should call her.”

“I will. Right now I’m trying to figure out how to get Makena to this appointment. If I tell her about it, she’ll probably refuse to go.”

“You want me to help?”

It was Kali’s turn to laugh. “I hate to be the one to break the news, but you’re not