When Water Burns Read online

  Daniel Tahi, Samoa

  Subject: Vomit vs. Kisses

  I’ve seen you throw up before. Still wanted to kiss you after. Wish I was there to crash and die with you.

  Leila Folger, Enroute to New York

  Subject: Not Happy

  I have a complaint. Before the car crashes and I die. You don’t kiss me enough.

  Daniel Tahi, Samoa

  Subject: Not Helpful

  And this is coming from a girl who’s just left the country WITHOUT ANY WARNING to fly thousands of miles away for an unspecified period of time?! Try telling me that in person. When we’re alone. At our midnight pool. (Clothes optional.)

  Leila Folger, Enroute to New York.

  Subject: Excuse me?

  Is that a dare?

  Daniel Tahi, Samoa

  Subject: I will kiss you breathless.

  No. It’s a promise. Satisfaction guaranteed.

  Leila Folger, Enroute to New York

  Subject: Fire Hazard

  Stop that. It’s getting hot in here. Do you want this car to flame, crash and burn?

  Daniel Tahi, Samoa

  Subject: Control yourself

  Sorry. I forgot that the mere mention of my kiss often has that effect on girls. And cars. Please try to contain your excitement.

  Leila Folger, Enroute to New York

  Subject: Bodyguard Duties

  It will be difficult. I’ll try to think about something else. Like Simone’s offer to be your bodyguard. He’s going to protect you against the alluring advances of all girls.

  Daniel Tahi, Samoa

  Subject: Surrounded by Allure.

  I feel very safe now. Me and Simone will take on the gazillions of hot chicks who want me. They are everywhere. I just saw some hiding in the bushes outside my house. Simone, help!

  Leila Folger, Enroute to New York

  Subject: Whatever

  Very funny. If I was there, I would fry you with a flame ball.

  Daniel Tahi, Samoa

  Subject: Bring it.

  If you were here, I would hold you in my arms and never let you go. I never want to wake up after a telesa attack without you again. You could have at least put smiley hearts on your good bye note.

  Leila Folger, Enroute to New York

  Subject: Sadness

  I’m sorry I left you like that.

  Daniel Tahi, Samoa.

  Subject: Love

  Don’t be. I’m just teasing you. You’re where you need to be.

  Leila Folger, Enroute to New York.

  Subject: Worried

  How’s your chest? I mean, your wound?

  Daniel Tahi, Samoa.

  Subject: Check it out. Photo Attachment.

  I opened the photo file and laughed out loud. He had taken a picture of himself, giving me a thumbs up while lying in bed, shirtless so I could see the bandage Salamasina had wrapped his upper torso in. It was made of leaves and tied with finely braided coconut rope. A sheet lay low on his hips and while he looked a little pale he was in every other way, my Daniel. The phone beeped, reminding me that he was impatiently waiting for a reply. I read his message and this time, a blush of fire raced through me.

  Daniel Tahi, Samoa.

  Subject: My Chest.

  As you can see, my chest is fine. Mama warns though that I’ll have a big ole scar there. Are there any other parts of me that you’re worried about, that you need to check out?

  Leila Folger, Enroute to New York.

  Subject: Your chest.

  You talk pretty scandalous for a boy who wouldn’t kiss me for too long in case he put my “virtue” in danger.

  Daniel Tahi, Samoa.

  Subject: You.

  Getting stabbed in the chest can do that to a person. Besides, I need ways to keep you allured. You don’t have a bodyguard. And America is full of hot surfers and scientists who want you. Not to mention celebrities who probably stalk your every move. How do I know that Ryan Reynolds isn’t waiting for you in New York?

  I tried to ignore the not-so subtle reference to Jason. If I hadn’t been trapped in a car with my uncle and aunt, I would have taken a photo for him. Of me making a face at him and poking my tongue out at the ridiculousness of his question.

  Leila Folger, Arrived in New York.

  Subject: All of You.

  Don’t worry. I prefer tattooed brown rugby players to mega celebrities. I told Ryan to stop stalking me or else even his Green Lantern costume won’t protect him from my volcano fury. I don’t need a bodyguard. I’m a fire goddess who’s in love with you. Every piece of you. Even the scarred chest bits. I gotta go. We’re here. Talk later.

  THREE

  Six weeks. Six long weeks and I was finally on my way back to Samoa. There was so much about this journey that was familiar and yet different. The biggest difference was that this time, I wasn’t running away from my life in Washington D.C. This time I was going to where I wanted to be.

  And this time, Daniel was waiting to greet me at the airport. I searched him out as soon as I exited through Customs. Eager. Anxious. It had been so long. What if things were awkward? What if things had changed? What if the bond we shared wasn’t there anymore? What if I had only imagined it?

  I needn’t have worried. There he was. Standing back from the crowd. Waiting. Staring right at me. Our eyes met. Caught. And instantly, I knew. Nothing had changed. Daniel was the same. The busy crush of the arrivals area faded to a blur as we moved towards each other. And then I was in his arms and everything in the universe was right again. That empty ache was replaced with Daniel. Strong. Solid. Strength. Warmth – more familiar and reassuring than magma could ever be. He held me close and I breathed him in with a fierce intensity. He kissed my hair, my forehead, the tip of my nose, each cheek, dancing ever closer to my lips, as if wanting to reacquaint himself with every piece of me. And then his mouth was on mine and I drowned in the perfect bliss of him. The tang of salt. The breathless flush of a raging ocean wind. The rush of adrenaline as you leap from the precipice of a rushing waterfall. He was Daniel Tahi and every part of him firmly anchored against me told me that I had been gone too long from the one I loved.

  When he finally tore his mouth from mine, it was to chide me softly. “You got me breaking all the rules here, Fire Girl.” That delicious smile reassured me that whatever rules he was referring to, he wasn’t truly mad at me about trespassing them.

  “And what rules would those be?”

  “The unwritten Samoan laws on public displays of affection. We just trashed all of them. Can’t you tell?”

  He quirked an eyebrow at me and glanced sideways. I followed his gaze and realized we had an avid audience. The airport crowd was staring and muttering darkly about the couple entwined around each other in the middle of the arrivals area. Shocking. Disrespectful. Disgraceful. Immediately, I took a step back and loosened my embrace.

  “Oops.” I bit at my lower lip. “Sorry. I forgot that people don’t do that here.”

  He only laughed. Low and musical. Reached for my backpack and looped it lightly over one shoulder, and then took my hand in his. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not. Besides, I’m sure they can make allowances for American girls. Especially ones as beautiful as you.” He bent to kiss me once more on the cheek. A whisper. “I’ve missed you.”

  Joy entangled me. Filaments of gold sunlight. Tendrils of chili red excitement. I was caught in my love for this glorious boy. And I never wanted to be free of it. I walked with him up to the parking lot and once there, away from prying eyes, I asked him, “Can I see it? Where they stabbed you? Are you really okay now?”

  In answer, he unbuttoned his shirt and stood there with moonlight playing on his chest. On the ripple of scar tissue that marked where the telesā had stabbed him and then tossed his body into the ocean. Remembering that night had the fire rage sparking within me and it was a struggle to contain it. I gently traced the scars, first with trembling fingers and then with soft kisses. Wishing that night had
never happened. Wishing I could erase all the pain he had suffered because of me. Wishing I could wash away even this reminder with my tears.

  “Hey.” Daniel raised my tear-stained face to his. “Don’t cry. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

  “No, it’s not fine. You’re always going to be scarred. Just like how you’re always going to be a target for other telesā because of me. For as long as you love me, you’re always going to be in danger.”

  “I’m ready for a lifetime of danger then. Are you? Because that’s how long I’m going to love you.” He shrugged. “I kinda like my war wound. It’s a reminder for me of how together, we can overcome anything. Even a psychotic band of weather witches. Now come here.”

  I needed no second invitation. This time, my hands strayed over the planes of his chest and then moved to his back as we kissed. I delighted in the corded feel of his shoulders and lower to his hips. He flinched, jerking slightly away from me. “Ouch.”

  “I’m sorry. What is it? What’s wrong? Did I burn you?”

  “No. It’s not you. It’s me.” He caught both my hands in his. Hesitant. “Remember how I said there was something important I had to tell you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “While you were gone, I did something.”

  “What?” The suspense was killing me. Was this where he told me he had gotten with some gorgeous (skanky) girl? And he was really sorry? And it was a big mistake? But she was so alluring he couldn’t resist?

  “I got a pe’a done. I had the last stage completed a few days ago and it’s still a little sore. Here.” A resigned sigh as he carefully shook himself loose of his shirt. “Have a look.”

  “You did what?!” I pulled back, my gaze searching and finding what I had missed in the rush to be with him. There in the dim light, I could faintly see the stamped black patterning on his hips, rising from the low-lying band of his shorts. I moved us both into the glare of a parking lot lamppost and stepped back. Now I could see, peering from the edges of his shorts, the intricate markings of a pe’a, running down both legs to the knee.

  “You did it. You really got one. I don’t believe it.” I shook my head in disbelief. “When? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He ruffled a hand through his hair in that nervous gesture I knew so well. A sheepish grin. “The last time we talked about me getting a pe’a, you weren’t too excited about the idea. I didn’t want to upset you. Or worry you. Especially when you were having such a nice time with your Folger family.” He looked hopeful that I would buy this excuse.

  “Whatever, Daniel. You didn’t want me to try and talk you out of it!” Worry clamped a cold fist around my heart. “Who did it? Please don’t tell me they used some nasty, backwoods, rusty instruments and dirty tools. Is there any infection?”

  “It’s fine. Mama made sure all the tools were sterilized and she’s been taking care of it ever since. She didn’t want me to get it done either, you know. Which is why I didn’t tell you about it. I was having a hard enough time convincing Mama that I would be okay. I got it done at home, spread out over a week.”

  I winced, thinking of the painful process. “How bad did it hurt?”

  A shrug. “Bad. But Mama gave me some painkiller stuff to drink through it, which helped. There were three of us getting it done so that helped as well. You know, solidarity and all that. Can’t give in to the pain when there’re other guys around waiting for their turn, you know.”He bent to fold up the hem of his shorts. “See? I told you they were fine. So, what do you think?” He mocked striking a supermodel pose. I pretended to look pensive, hands on my hips and shaking my head.

  “Hmm, I’m not sure. I need to get a better look. Can you please turn around and pull your pants down so me and the whole world can get a better look at your bum?”

  He pretended to look shocked. “Hey, don’t even joke about it or else I will!”

  I laughed with him. Relieved that his grandmother had played a part in the tattooing process, ensuring his safety. Relieved that his confession hadn’t been anything to do with gorgeous skanky girls … “I’m glad it turned out alright. It’s beautiful. And I know it means a lot to you. You really are that noble Pacific warrior from the legend aren’t you?”

  He pulled me to him in a careful embrace. “As long as you’re playing the part of Sina, I’m your warrior. Shall we go? I better get you to your aunt’s house before she regrets allowing me to come and get you from the airport.”

  In the truck, I allowed my thoughts to wander to forbidden topics. “Daniel, if you’re my noble warrior like in the legend does that mean you can turn into a silver dolphin?”

  His grip tightened on the steering wheel. “What are you talking about, Leila?”

  “I mean that night you got stabbed. We’ve never talked about it. You were underwater for over an hour. You were unconscious, stabbed in the chest when they threw you in the sea. You should have died that night. But you didn’t. There were silver dolphins there. They brought you back to shore. Back to me. I saw them. The ocean gave you back to me. Why?”

  “I don’t know anything about silver dolphins. I do know that it was a rugged night. For both of us. You were coping with a lot and maybe you saw things that weren’t there. You know what I mean?”

  “No, I don’t know what you mean. I know what I saw. What I saw was real.”

  Daniel interrupted me. “Can we not talk about it? I’ve spent the last six weeks trying to forget that night. Can we just think about today? Think about tomorrow?” He threw me a smile. “I’m taking the day off work so we can hang out. You want to go for a picnic?”

  And just like that, Daniel Tahi deflected and got us off the silver dolphin topic. And I let him. Because he was right. Sometimes, the best way to deal with unpleasant things is to blank them out and forget they exist.

  Which works fine. Until they come back to bite you.

  Matile and Tuala greeted me with condolences and reserved welcome. They had sent a sympathy card to the Folger family when I returned to Washington, a card that contained some precious American dollars. This gesture that accompanied every Samoan funeral had touched me deeply. It wasn’t about the money. It was the fact that this elderly couple regarded me as part of their family and were reaching out across oceans and time zones to my palagi extended family with this humble gift. I had explained the custom to my American family and they had made sure that I returned to Samoa with gifts. Matile exclaimed with breathless awe at the white lace and satin tablecloth set that Annette had sent. I had approved the purchase from Saks because I knew that Matile would seize upon it as the perfect donation for the church pulpit. I was right.

  “So beautiful. I will give this for the church. Just wait until the other ladies see this meaalofa. This will be a gift to surpass all others.”

  Tuala had met my eyes over Matile’s shoulder and smiled that knowing half-smile. You got her, Leila. You know her well!

  I was truly happy to see them again. Matile muttered darkly at my news that my stay with them would be only temporary until I found an apartment to rent, but she brightened somewhat when I told her that I would be asking Simone to live with me. And I assured her that I would be accompanying her and Tuala to church every Sunday. Of course. That was the clincher. So my request for a day out with Daniel was granted. I ate the feast that Matile had prepared and savored every mouthful. The finest American cuisine couldn’t match the rich array of tastes in a Samoan feast. Especially when Matile was doing the cooking. I went to bed happy. Exhausted. But feeling like I was truly home.

  The promise of the day ahead was a fiery lightness that lit up my every step. A whole day with Daniel. Just us two at the beach. Texts and Skypeover the last six weeks had been a poor replacement for the real thing. Daniel’s smile. His laugh. The crinkle of his green eyes as they would dance teasingly at me. I wanted to soar and sing with the anticipation alone of the day ahead.

  I had cajoled the sour Aunty Matile into teaching me how to make her banana muffins – and t
hen earned her sniff of disdain when I ‘polluted’ her recipe with handfuls of chocolate chips. It was a wickedly delicious recipe and the first sampling bite had me smiling. Yes! Not bad, Leila, I muttered to myself as I assembled ham sandwiches and packed everything into a cooler with sliced fruit. Daniel was bringing Diet Coke and some of his grandmother’s coconut buns. I was checking off my beach supplies when I heard his truck pull up out front.

  A foolish smile was plastered on my face as I ran to the door. A quick goodbye to Matile, who was still ignoring me and the evil chocolate chips. And then a breathless halt on the verandah at the sight of Daniel coming up the steps. A wry smile as the thought crossed my mind – would this boy ever have an ‘off’ day? A bad hair day? A fat day? An I’m-so-ugly-I-don’t-want-to-go-outday?

  He stood there smiling at me and I hoped he couldn’t hear my thoughts that screamed of delight. Love. Bliss. Adoration. Ugh, I was sickening. But look at him, who wouldn’t be a mass of mush at the sight of him?

  Khaki shorts, white t-shirt, dark sunglasses raised over his sea-green eyes. My gaze went to his legs where the bands of black patterning peered from his shorts. How long would it be before I was used to seeing him with such an extensive tattoo?

  He bent to take the bag and the cooler to the truck.

  “Is this everything?”

  “Yup. That’s it. Did you get all the drinks?”