Prints in the Sand: My Journey with Nanea

I tell Nanea we should call her grandparents. She exhales and agrees, though she dreads how annoyed Tutu Kane will be once he learns where we are. Handing me Mele, she heads to Niu’s family’s door to see if she can use their phone.

I wait on the front steps with the dog until Nanea comes out, and then we wait together until headlights swing into view, dimmed down to thin slits as if they’d been painted over. We slide into the backseat, Mele the only one thrilled about the ride, and I watch Nanea go rigid beside me, clearly bracing for whatever Tutu Kane might say. But he just pulls away from the curb without a word.

Nanea’s voice wavers when she finally breaks the silence, apologizing and explaining that she thought they would make it back sooner, that being outside tonight felt like the old days, before curfews and blackouts took over everything.

In the mirror, I catch his expression soften even as he tells her that what she did was reckless. He reminds her that the rules exist to protect them, and they are not optional.

She lets the scolding sink in quietly, and Mele curls against her lap for the rest of the dark, silent ride.

The next morning, I brace myself for Mr. Mitchell’s anger, but instead he greets us with a warm stack of pancakes and a kiss on Nanea’s head, saying his short stack is getting her own short stack.

Mary Lou shuffles in half asleep, sniffing the air for pancakes, and Nanea teases that she’s lucky there are any left. Mary Lou fires right back that Nanea is the lucky one, then settles beside her sister and asks whether Sukey’s family was thrilled to get their dog home.

Nanea sets her fork down, curious how Mary Lou knows that Sukey’s family were the owners. Mary Lou shrugs and says Mrs. Santos told her. Mrs. Santos spread the story to, apparently, everyone.

Mr. Mitchell points out gently that Mrs. Santos deserves thanks for helping track the dog’s family down, adding that there isn’t anything wrong with a little outside help now and then. Under his steady look, Nanea admits he’s right and apologizes for not asking Mom for help the night before.

Mr. Mitchell nods and tells Nanea he knows she means it, and that next time she will remember. She promises she will, then turns to me, marveling between bites of pancake at just how many people pitched in yesterday. I count them off myself: Auntie Rose, Mr. Cruz, and Mrs. Santos, every one of them helping us chase down Mango’s family.

Mary Lou laughs and asks if Mango was really the dog’s name. Nanea explains that’s what we called him. His real name is Niu, for coconut. This sends Mary Lou sputtering into her pineapple juice.

Chuckling, Mr. Mitchell says their whole neighborhood functions like one extended family, everybody looking out for everybody else. He asks if mine is the same. I admit I barely know anyone yet, though there is Auntie Oli. She’s not really my aunt but she does look after my brothers and me. Mr. Mitchell seems glad to hear that I have Auntie Oli in my extended family.

I’m still turning that thought over an hour later, when we climb into his car. Unlike yesterday, he skips his usual morning nap and offers instead to drive me all the way back to the beach to reunite with my own family.

As we back out of the driveway, we wave to Auntie Rose watering her yard, and it hits me how much I will miss this whole tangle of neighbors and aunties looking out for one another, especially with Dad still gone. But I’m not sad to leave the fears of war behind.

Back on the sand, right before sliding the puka shell necklace off, I realize something else. I’m finally ready to see Auntie Oli again, too. And sure enough, there she is, still keeping watch over my brothers. I call out her name, and she turns, surprised, maybe because I have never used it quite like that before. Then she smiles and waves to me, welcoming me home.