Austin Aslan - The Islands at the End of the World

When a new tank of water is put out, I take my epilepsy medication and a bottle of painkillers over. I’ve been having headaches, probably because I’m dehydrated.

As I wait for my turn at the water jug, my mind is on fire with escape plans and the echoes of gunfire. I imagine trying to row thirty-plus miles over open ocean against the current and feel sick to my stomach. Nothing comes to mind that isn’t high risk. It’s finally my turn at the water tank. I pop the ibuprofen. Only a few left. My epilepsy pills: forty total. Twenty days’ worth.

Leilani , I think. Do your part .

I put the pills away, my hands trembling. I pour Dad’s packet of sweetener into my cup, close my eyes tightly, and drink. Then I race back to be close to Dad.

You are Leilani. I am Leilani .

It is a good thing. It passes on and my purpose is done . The kahuna warns King Alapa`i, “One day a boy will be born who will kill every chief, rule every isle. Look for the sign of your doom—a great fire in the sky—and kill the newborn while he suckles.”

Suckle. Gather your strength .

When Halley’s Comet flares above the ocean, Alapa`i orders the baby Pai`ea murdered. But the infant’s parents secretly pass his care to a friend.

Leilani. It passes. Time to linger and grow strong on the heat . Pai`ea grows into a skilled warrior. Alapa`i dies, and Pai`ea slays the rightful heirs. He becomes the first to reign alone over the entire island of Hawai`i. He schemes with false gods to rule all the islands.

We are together now, but we will drift away, as I once did. For now, we linger .

He is forever known as Kamehameha, and of him the prophets sang:

E iho ana o luna

E pi`i ana o lalo

E hui ana na moku

E ku an aka paia

.

That which is above will come down

That which is below will rise up

The islands shall unite

The walls shall stand firm.

I slowly come to. I’m lying on the same cot in our same muddy spot.

“Hi,” Dad says, muffled by a face mask. “You back? You’ve been in and out for a while now, dazed.”

I sit up. Dad’s cross-legged in the mud beside me. I lift my own mask over my forehead. “Hey.” After another moment of dialing in to my surroundings: “This isn’t Hilo.”

“I can’t believe you did that.”

“I’m so hungry.”

“Here.” Dad offers me a can of Spam.

My eyes grow wide and I peel it open and dig into it with my fingers. “Where’d you get this?” I ask between gulps.

“Well, it’s your consolation prize. I tried everything. Apparently grand mal seizures are pretty low on the triage list these days, if you would believe it.”

My memory grows clearer. The seizure happened Thursday night. “What day is it today?”

“Who cares?” Dad says. “It’s Friday evening.”

“Well, that was dumb.”

“No. It served a purpose.” Dad leans in close. “I’m convinced we’re really on our own.”

“What do you mean?”

“A bunch of us are going to petition tomorrow. And you’ll scan the perimeter while I’m with the others. Look for any weak spots in the fencing along the ground that you and I could crawl under.”

“Dad, this is insane. We can’t just break out of a military camp. What about our bags and—”

“Tomorrow night, if they won’t allow us to walk out of here, you and I start looking.”

“Dad …” I begin. He watches me closely, waiting. But I don’t really have anything to say.

“We can do this.” He hugs me. “Eat your Spam. And drink as much as you can. You missed your doses. Today’s, too. Take them both, and take them from now on.”

“Okay,” I say. “Oh, hey, Dad?”

“Yeah, hon?”

“Who won the round robin?”

He shakes his head. “No one’s played soccer since the shooting.”

In the morning dozens of people are vomiting and complaining of fevers and diarrhea. Very few eat the mush at breakfast; we all fear contamination. I’m so hungry, though; I force down some pasty oats mixed with ground-up Spam. While I’m psyching myself up for each bite, I grow clammy, thinking about scurrying under the fence.

I search for Aukina and find him standing guard near a part of the fence that’s about to be converted into another gate. A second large pen has been constructed, and a chain-link corridor will connect it with our camp. Aukina stands alone with a pile of fencing supplies and tools. The sight of his face perks me up, a little. So. Damn. Cham .

“Aloha.”

“Hey, Lei. Howzit? You feeling better?”

“You know what happened to me?”

“I think the four-star generals know what happened, the way your dad was … getting attention.”

“You think it’s funny?”

“No! Man, you’re always giving me the stink-eye.”

I sigh. He’s not to blame. Cut him some slack . “It’s just ’cause I know you know all of this is BS.”

I see Aukina’s knowing expression in his eyes above his mask.

“We want to leave, but no one will let us.”

“I know it’s bad, Lei. But be glad you’re here, ah? Have you heard about the factions forming?”

“No. We don’t know anything .”

“The corporate farms keep getting occupied by new militias, so we’re taking them over. That’s easy to deal with. But part of it’s about a free Hawai`i. The Sovereign Nationers see a chance to secede from the States. Hawaiians are ganging up. The haoles are ganging up. The Asians are sticking together. The Filipinos … You and your dad are better off staying out of it. Especially since—”

“Ho. The Sovereign Nation folks?”

Aukina shrugs. “They’re part of it, yeah. But it’s messier than that. It’s about ` ohana , yeah?”

We’re quiet for a moment. I hear the sound of gunfire somewhere across the bay again. The pops and cracks of distant bullets are just background now. Now it’s about territory? People splitting into racial gangs? At least it’s not just about Hawaiians and haoles. But … What group am I in?

Stop. That way of thinking is the problem .

“And there’s some weird religious stuff behind some of it, too. Creeps me out.”

“Aukina …”

“A few Christian ‘armies’ are drunk on hellfire.”

“Aukina … People are dying in here. You’re shooting us. Everyone’s sick. The flights have stopped.”

He just looks at me.

“I want out. My dad and I need to get home. Can you help us get on a plane?”

Aukina stiffens. “I have absolutely no sway over that kind of thing, Lei.”

“Can you help us get out, at least? We’ll swim the bay. Once we’re back in Kailua, we’ll figure out what’s next.”

He opens his mouth to protest but then falls silent, and finally says, “No, Leilani! I … No. What you’re asking is …”

“Where’s your family, Aukina? Where’s your ` ohana ?”

“My parents are here. Pearl City. My brother lives on base.”

“My mom, my seven-year-old brother, and my grandpa are in Hilo, going through God knows what. We’re broken, Aukina. I don’t care about the turf wars. I don’t care about the blackout. We need to get home. We’ll swim if we have to. We need your help.”

“Do you know how many people have died trying to get down the island chain? It’s unbelievable, Lei. The ocean is powerful. We’re saving lives. That includes you and your dad.” My hands go up to my face. I’m not going to cry. I won’t! I just want to hide. “This is …” I can’t find the words.