Sujata Massey - Shimura Trouble

“How was the flight?” Edwin asked, grinning as if he anticipated a rapturous reply.

“It was fine,” I answered for both my father and myself. “Thank you for staying to meet us. I know you must have been waiting for a while.”

“No sweat,” said Edwin, whose forehead told me otherwise. “I chance going to the car rental and get a better car for you this whole trip.”

“The sedan with GPS that I reserved was not available,” Tom said in his impeccable English. “So Edwin-san did some research and found there was a car available at one of his friend’s lots.”

“I used to work in travel, so I have lots of friends working in and near the airport. I got you guys a minivan with a handheld GPS! And of course, a minivan has much more room than a full-size sedan. I figured you’d have lots of luggage, once I heard you were bringing a daughter along!”

I was sorely tempted to snap at him, but instead I walked off to the luggage carousel, which had finally creaked into action.

“Ojisan, you stay with the others. I’ll help Rei-chan,” Tom said to my father. As we waited at the carousel together, he asked, “What do you think of him?”

“I haven’t known him long enough to make a judgment,” I answered carefully. “But you’ve been together a few hours. What’s your opinion?”

“I’m concerned about the change in car companies,” Tom said. “I think they might have given us an upgrade since the car we reserved was gone, if we had stayed to talk. Uncle Edwin insisted on our leaving the place, because he said that his friend’s rental car agency would have the car we wanted. The minivan we’ve got is $5 more expensive than the car we reserved at Hertz.”

“Well, I’m sorry about the change, but $5 more isn’t that bad, at last minute. Though I guess I’m a little worried, since Edwin did all this re-arranging before I arrived, that I’m not going to be permitted as the third driver of that car…”

“It’s five dollars more per day,” Tom said. “And we’re here for a month, which means $150 more. And as far as your driving goes, the agency owner said that he listed you, providing that you telephone him with driver’s license information. And there was an extra three dollars a day to allow you to drive!

“At least the doctor refused to let Dad drive,” I said. “If we had to add him on to the contract, we might as well buy a car, instead of rent one.”

“And don’t expect much comfort,” Tom said. “It’s not so clean, and it makes loud noises. I don’t mean to be rude, but…”

I stared at my Uncle Edwin, who was having an animated conversation with my father. What a jerk! As I was watching him, Edwin suddenly looked past my father and met my gaze.

His mouth still formed a smile, but he looked as if he sensed what I was thinking. This was not a comfortable situation at all.

NO ONE PROTESTED when I offered to take the wheel for our drive to the resort where we had rented a house. Perhaps it was because everyone was tired, or because the minivan was such a rat-trap. There appeared to be taco chip crumbs all over the front seat, and some kind of unknown sticky substance in the driver’s side cup-holder. It was the worst spot in a vehicle with stained upholstery, air-conditioning that blew in hot air, and a very loud engine.

“Now, Rei, you can just follow my car out H-1 West as I drive straight home and we’ll start the reunion! Margaret’s working today, but I can stop off and get a nice pupu platter somewhere,” Edwin said after we’d all settled ourselves, more or less, in the minivan.

In the rear-view mirror, I caught Hiroshi and Tom exchanging anxious glances. I didn’t need to look at my father, in the seat next to mine, to know that he was also too fatigued to eat Hawaiian hors d’oeuvres at Edwin’s house. “I’m so sorry, but I wonder if we could come to visit tomorrow? We are all a bit tired right now.”

“Yes, I apologize, but I would really like to get to the resort, unpack and lie down,” my father said.

“For health reasons,” Uncle Hiroshi added.

“What health reason?” Edwin looked at my father curiously, and I realized then that my father must not have communicated anything about the stroke.

“My father’s recovering from surgery,” I volunteered.

Edwin blinked. “For what?”

“Nothing serious,” my father said shortly, and Edwin nodded.

“OK, OK! You come by when you ready. I gotta advise you that this place you thinking of staying, Kainani, is not a place where you can experience what it’s really like living in Hawaii. You gonna be cooped up in a time-share tower with a lot of mainlanders. My buddy Irwin’s got some rental cottages up the coast at Makaha Point you wouldn’t believe, and there’s a three bedroom available-”

“Thank you so much, Cousin Edwin, but the non-refundable deposit has been made,” I said firmly. “And we’re renting a whole house that we selected because it’s just a mile from your home!”

“Call me Uncle, and it’s closer than this.” Edwin pinched his left thumb and middle finger together. “I can lead you out there. The problem is, it’s a gated resort. They might not let a local guy like me drive on the premises.”

“Oh, dear. If you could lead us out to the freeway, that would be very nice,” I said, thinking that while Edwin was no doubt exaggerating, if we got off on the wrong foot with him, the whole month would be spoiled. And if things were spoiled, my father would be anxious-and that anxiety could lead to a stroke.

“OK then. Follow me.” Edwin slammed the minivan’s door closed and then climbed into a silver Toyota Tacoma truck streaked with red mud, parked a few spaces away. He pulled out into the parking lot aisle, and I hurried to keep up.

“Well done, Rei-chan,” Uncle Hiroshi said from the backseat.

“Don’t say that until Rei’s gotten us there safely,” my father cautioned from his perch beside me.

“I’m referring to the way your daughter handled Edwin-san,” Hiroshi said. “It’s a good thing she stopped him from taking us to the other house.”

“What do you think of Edwin?” I asked the rear-seat passengers.

“What do you think?” Hiroshi turned the question round with perfect Japanese etiquette that made me want to shriek.

“He wants to organize everything for us,” my father murmured. “It’s quite natural, I suppose, since we’ve come from far away.”

“I’m so glad you didn’t agree to change resorts,” I said to my father. We’d stopped at the parking attendant’s booth, and I suddenly realized I needed to pay. I turned to my cousin and Uncle Hiroshi in the rear passenger seats and asked for a parking ticket.

“Oh, no! Edwin has the ticket,” Tom said.

My heart sunk. There was no way I’d be able to flag down Edwin, since his vehicle had already cleared the traffic gate.

“No need pay,” said the parking lot attendant, a middle-aged Hawaiian woman with a small white flower tucked behind one ear; a blossom that looked like one of the flowers in my lei.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t have a ticket.”

“No, no. The guy in the truck before you, he pay for everything. He say tell you aloha and welcome to Hawaii.”

After we passed through the gate and on to the freeway, following Edwin’s silver truck, I thought about things. Maybe I’d judged my new uncle too quickly. Paying for our parking had been a kind thing to do. My father said as much as we rode along past a landscape that no longer seemed tropical; dry hills scattered with housing estates and big box stores like Old Navy and OfficeMax. H-1 suddenly seemed like a typical traffic-choked freeway in Southern California. Only the shifting gray and white clouds overhead, the soaring mountains and occasional flashes of blue ocean gave me hope that something different might be ahead.