Lana ka mana’o

The metallic monotone siren boomed over the city’s central speaker system, ripping me from a dreamless sleep and faded into the crackling of a loudspeaker as the morning announcements began.

“Good morning citizens of O’ahu…”

The same greeting as every morning for as long as I could remember.

“Today is Po Akolu, Wednesday, day 1,825. Today marks the fifth anniversary of the letusan of both Whakaari and Ruapehu that spewed ash and lava and stopped all travel, which left our island cut off from the world…”

I got dressed as the speaker droned on about how we were prevailing despite being so isolated and a beacon of hope as we are ‘The Gathering Place’.

I looked out my ash smeared window and was met with the same scene as the day before and the day before that, makeshift complexes housing other citizens, people wearing drab clothes, and thick clouds blanketing the sky. The only non-lackluster element was where matahari appeared desperately trying to break through the wall of clouds hanging in the sky.

“...Remember to do your part in making O’ahu a place of hope.” the loud speaker crackled one last time before going silent.

Everyday since before I could recall we were being reminded of the event that changed the world. I was only a balita, too young to remember when the letusan happened, so I have no memory of what life was like before the dreary cloud cover and ash everywhere, the strict curfews, and total isolation from the world outside our tiny island. I had only heard stories of the beauty our island held. The pelangi of colors everywhere from reds and yellows to pinks and bright greens, the salty scent of kai or the sweet fragrance of the sea after a storm, how bright matahari shone everyday, and hope seemed to grow from the puas that were in abundance. I would hear the nostalgia in the voices of those remembering the way things were as they tried desperately to see those images amidst the grey depressing world around them. The sullen looks only added to the hopelessness everyone felt. I had never seen anything like they described. I was ignorant of the beauty they described or the harmony felt.

“Bye makuahine.” I called as I left out flat.

I had only just made it outside when I heard mama call out, “Be careful, Lana ka mana’o.”

I looked up to wave and saw her heart locket dangling out the window from her neck and through gritted teeth I whispered “My name is Lana!”

“Head to school, no stopping, tamahine.” Mama’s broken English evident as she shouted. She hated it when I would make a detour to the graveyard, Makam. Saying it wasn’t safe for me to be poking around. That the spirits would be angry. Personally I didn’t believe in Kehua, I wanted to see if I could find a shred of proof of the world before the letusan. To find something showing me the beauty everyone talked about. I wanted hope.

Disobeying mama’s wishes, I stopped at Makam. I remembered some stories of loved ones planting puas at the site where they buried their loved ones. Some even said they left pictures behind. It was a long shot after all this time, but I needed to find something. I needed to find hope.

Walking carefully around the grey ash covered stones, some were crumbling while others were completely knocked down from the frequent ola’i we experienced as the ground continued to shake periodically. I made sure to tread lightly as there was no telling how stable the ground was. Then an ear splitting siren rang out over the city speakers stopping me in my tracks.

“Gempa!”

Terror ripped through me as I tried to weave around the stones to get to safety before the earthquake began, but the ground started shaking beneath my feet and I lost my balance falling into a shallow grave. I scrambled to pull my pale’ maka up over my nose and mouth as the ground spat dirt at me. Once I got my face covering up, I drew my knees to my chest and squeezed my eyes shut.

When the gempa was finally over, I slowly peeled my eyes open. The hole was half filled and I was covered up to my waist. After I finally made my way out, I looked out and saw some of the distant complexes had toppled and I could hear the city speakers repeating over and over for citizens to remain calm, to make sure they were wearing their pale’ maka, and for everyone to make their way back to their homesteads.

I stumbled making my way around the fallen debris back home. The respoden pertama roared by every few moments trying to get to those who needed help.

As I rounded the corner I saw my complex still standing with minimal damage. I let out a sigh of relief, unaware I had been holding my breath. Neighboring complexes had more damage and chunks missing from walls, but mine was still standing. I started to breathe easier until something caught my eye.

A car had been crushed by a steel beam from one of the complex connecting bridges, but as I got closer I saw the ruffle of a skirt and stopped short.

“Makuahine!” I screamed and dropped to my knees. There lay my mother who had been outside when the gempa hit. Many citizens came rushing to help remove the steel beam, but by the time they had and the ambulance arrived, it was too late.

One of the neighbors came over to where I was paralyzed with fear, she was holding something. She held my hand and placed the tarnished heart shaped locket my mama had worn everyday and merely shook her head.

The front held an olivine gemstone in what appeared to be a cracked setting. I had never seen inside, so slowly I pried it open. There I found the remnants of a petal and what looked like a seed and a faded picture of me holding a beautiful yellow plumeria while mama was holding me and smiling. I had only seen plumerias in books, but there I was holding one with matahari shining bright. Being careful not to jostle the petal and seed, I closed the locket and turned it over, on the back was inscribed Lana - Hope.

I sobbed as I held it to my chest.