Boyd Morrison - The Tsunami Countdown

“It doesn’t matter why!” Mia screamed. “Let’s just go!”

“Come on!” yelled Tom. “This way!”

Lani and the boys quickly turned their kayaks to the closest beach and began paddling furiously. Mia, who was not as skilled with the kayaks, took longer to turn.

Mia was barely paddling at half the speed of the rest of them. At that rate, they would be in danger of not making it.

“Faster!” said Jake. “We don’t have much time!”

“My arms are too tired!” Mia yelled, distraught. “I can’t go faster!”

Tom pointed at Jake. “Kayak back as fast as you can and find somebody to get a boat or something out here.”

“Like who?” Jake said. “Your parents are gone for the day.”

“My mom,” Lani said. “She works at the Grand Hawaiian. It’s that hotel right there.” She pointed at the distinctive double towers with the walkway between. They looked tantalizingly close until she saw the cars parked at their base, no bigger than toys.

“You go as fast as you can,” Tom said. “We’ll follow you.”

Jake began to paddle furiously in the direction of the beach.

Within three minutes, Jake was already a few hundred yards ahead of them. By this time, the stress, inexperience, and rocking of the kayak was too much for Mia. She leaned to her left and threw up over the side of the kayak. Mia drastically changed the center of gravity while she vomited, and before she finished heaving, the kayak tipped over, tumbling her into the water.

“Mia!” Lani yelled.

Mia bobbed in the water, buoyed by her life vest. She coughed out some salt water and retched again.

“I fell out!” she screamed. “I fell out!”

Tom paddled over to her and stabilized the kayak.

“We’ve got to get you back in the kayak,” he said. He turned around and shouted, “Jake! Jake!”

Jake, already far ahead, continued paddling, oblivious to Tom’s yells in the constantly changing breeze.

“Don’t call him back!” Lani said. “He’s got to keep going. If he hears you and turns back, he won’t be able to get help for us.”

Lani could see Tom measuring the distance with his eyes. “You’re right,” he said reluctantly. He let Jake keep going.

Mia, who wasn’t a strong swimmer, dog-paddled over to her drifting kayak. When she got to it, she pulled on one of the nylon cords, but her strength was so sapped that she couldn’t lift herself more than a foot out of the water. She slumped back into the ocean, choking on more salt water in the process.

“I’ll never get back in,” she sobbed. “I’m not strong enough.”

“Yes, you are,” Lani said, seeing that she was going to lose Mia if she didn’t calm her down. “They make them so you can get back in. Right, Tom?”

Tom eyed Lani and shrugged dubiously. Then he said, “We can try.”

Tom and Lani paddled over to Mia and twice tried to lift her onto her kayak, but their awkward position made it difficult. Both times Mia fell back into the water before she was halfway on.

“This isn’t going to work,” Tom said.

“What am I going to do?” Mia cried.

“What about putting her on your kayak?” Lani said.

“This kayak’s pretty small. I’m afraid she’ll tip both of us over.”

“Please don’t leave me!” Mia cried.

“We’re not leaving you,” Lani said. “Tom is going to tow you.”

“Tow me?”

“Yes. He’s stronger than me.”

Tom nodded. “Good idea. Mia, hang on to this strap.”

He loosened one of the seat straps and threw it to Mia. “Tie it to your life vest. I’ll pull you.” He turned to Lani.

“Are you okay? Can you paddle?”

Lani nodded. “I’ll keep up. Let’s go.”

They started paddling. Jake was far ahead. Lani looked at her watch. Only nineteen minutes left. She paddled harder.

11:04 a.m.

18 Minutes to Wave Arrival Time

After leaving the clothing store where she had watched the first tsunami wave engulf the hikers on the Big Island, Teresa had returned to the beach to check the note in her bag. To her dismay, the bag was still there, with no sign from the girls. Her first thought had been to find another phone so that she could call someone for help. But without the phone book in her dead cell phone, she didn’t know any numbers to call. When she finally convinced an obliging tourist to let her use his cell phone, her calls to information went unanswered, as had her calls to the Grand Hawaiian. There was no way for her to contact anyone she knew.

By this time, the evacuation had reached its peak. People walked and ran in all directions, some calm, others crying or screaming. Many of them were families, the children struggling to keep up with their parents. Teresa hadn’t taken the time to get an update on the tsunami, but whatever people were seeing on TV was spurring them to get out fast. When she tried to stop passersby to show Mia’s photo, most people brushed her aside, immersed in their own problems. Of the ones who did take the time to look at the picture carefully, none recognized Mia.

Numerous possibilities for where Mia and Lani had gone fluttered through Teresa’s mind. The most likely explanation was that they were in one of the hotels or condos lining the beach, either oblivious to the mass panic below or dismissive of the danger. Or they could have gotten a ride in someone’s car. Teresa didn’t think Mia would do something like that, but given her own state of dread, she wasn’t ruling out anything.

If the girls were in a vehicle or a hotel room, she’d never find them in time. Her only hope was that the girls would become aware of what was going on and come back to find her.

Teresa’s search led her back to the east end of Waikiki Beach, where she came to a stop at the corner of Ohua and Kalakaua. While the midday sun blazed unimpeded by clouds, the ocean breeze kept the temperature to a comfortable eighty degrees. Nevertheless, sweat glistened on Teresa’s arms and brow, more a result of her anxiety than the climate.

She scanned the two blocks between her and the end of the developed part of Waikiki where the Kapi‘olani Park began.

“Mia!” she yelled. “Lani!”

A few heads turned, but none of them belonged to her daughter. She was about to turn and head back in the other direction when a muffled sob caught her attention.

Tucked in an alcove was a little boy no older than six. He was hunkered down against the wall, tears streaming down his pale face, the wind tousling his ash-blond hair. The people hurrying by were so engrossed in the evacuation that he had escaped attention. If Teresa hadn’t stopped there, she most likely wouldn’t have seen him either.

She knelt down in front of the boy, forgetting about her own lost child for a moment.

“Hey there, kiddo. Are you lost?”

He nodded glumly between sobs.

“What’s your name?”

“David.”

“Hi, David, I’m Teresa.”

He looked at her dubiously, as if he had already told her too much.

“My mom said I shouldn’t talk to strangers.”

“That’s usually a good idea, David. Where is your mom?”

He paused. Teresa could see that he was unsure whether to trust her.

“David, I’m a doctor, and doctors help people, right? And all I want to do is help you find your mom.”

“You don’t look like a doctor.”

“What do doctors look like?”

“Like my doctor, Dr. Rayburn. He’s old, and he has a funny nose.”

Teresa smiled at that.

“I swear I’m a doctor. Here, let me show you.” She plucked her medical ID from her wallet. It showed her in her white lab coat. Apparently, that was enough for David, and the information poured out.