Those people at the paddle-out, the ones chanting Eli’s name, do they visit him now, in there? Do they write him letters? Or email? Does he have that?
Today, the tern isn’t in the plumeria.
Sixty thousand.
That’s how many people have died so far in the Middle East. It came on the Nightly News after a sex scandal thing and a clip on the Windows upgrade.
Sixty thousand.
Everyone everywhere is just … gone.
It’s pouring—it hasn’t stopped—and the avocado path will be all washed out.
I’ll have to take the #5 bus home.
Home.
I haven’t taken the bus since it happened. I can barely even drive with Dad.
We had stopped at the Aloha, Dad and me, on the way to school. We pulled up to the pump, and when Dad opened his door, it hit me, the smell of gasoline.
Dad! I tried to cry out to him, to tell him we were going off the road.
Dad! The word just wouldn’t come out.
My arms were straight out in front of me, elbows locked, so when the car spun out, I wouldn’t jerk forward and slam my head into the headrest again.
“Help!” I cried out.
Dad was prying my hands off the dash. He was telling me it was okay.
It wasn’t okay! The gas … the glass … the window …
My eye, my eye, it was warm and … wet?
Dad was trying to hold me. Telling me it was okay. Telling me to take a deep breath. But couldn’t he see? I couldn’t breathe. The seat belt was crushing my chest, and the warm wet trickled down from my eyebrow.
Suddenly, though, there was a loud honk from behind. And I gasped. I remembered. Dad and me, we were at the Aloha. I could breathe. I wasn’t bleeding. But I wasn’t okay, either.
Dad let go.
“Do we need to get you some help?” he asked carefully.
He was asking about counseling. “No, I’m okay,” I told him. I didn’t want him to worry about me. He had so much to worry about already.
I looked at myself in the mirror, pushed up my eyelid that droops down from the rough brow. What Eli did will follow me forever. It’s written on my face. Brielle is right.
This is who I am now.
FALL
Prompt: Introduce yourself.
Aloha!! Taylor Harper, coming to you live from Our Lady of Obsession here on O‘ahu, and today is the second day of All of My Purple Life. Just enough for the right people (Brielle) to notice, but not enough for the wrong person (Sister Anne) to. Besides that, I’m the same as everyone else: polo shirt, khaki shorts.
Last year, to mix things up, I put on the tie, or the skirt, but this year’s been way too hot.
Eli’s thing is surfing. He’s all about Sunset. Everybody has their wave. Koa’s is Pipeline. Macario’s is Bowls. Tate’s is Sandys. Eli’s is Sunset—classic, moody, big. Eli’s other thing is Koa and Tate and Macario. And his other other thing is Stacy.
Mom’s things are us and gardening and taking care of sick people, and Dad’s thing is the university. Once we had a bunny named Hopper, who was Eli’s thing and my thing together, but mostly Hopper was Eli’s.
My thing is fashion, putting looks together. On weekends/Free Dress Days, I put hoop earrings and skinny belts with ruffly skirts and strappy sandals. Because it’s Hawaii, we can’t wear any of the big fall trends—velvet, turtlenecks, and boots. We wear the same thing in fall that we do in winter. And spring. And summer. (Side note: In Vogue’s new September issue, there’s a next-level pair of Stuart Weitzman strappy sandal-boots that would totally work. $750. I wish.) But when I get off the island, I’ll wear each season. That’s definitely going to happen.
Dad and Mom and Eli and me, we live under the monkeypod trees, at the bottom of the Mānoa mountains. People say the trail to the falls is haunted by Huaka’i Pō—old Hawaiian warriors. If you go, wear your Mānoa Falls shoes. And watch out for wild pigs. They eat everything.
Sandy Beach (Sandys) is just three miles away. Also, the Ala Moana mall is pretty great. Li Lu Wen and me, we’ve been friends since I came here—and we go to Ala Moana all the time. The day we graduate from eighth grade, Li Lu and I are going to Buzz’s—the Lanikai one—for steak or maybe scampi, but definitely for the coconut pie. They put little limes on the side, and you squeeze them on yourself! (Side note: Dessert is the.Best.Ever.) At the end of this year, we get to go to Camp Mokule‘ia! For two nights! It’s up on the North Shore. Li Lu and me, we’re going to sign up for the same horseback-riding session.
Other than going to the mall, there’s not a ton to do here, pretty much just surfing, if you’re into that.
So, I never thought this would happen, but I’m also getting to be really good friends with Brielle Branson. I guess I always thought she had her group. But two days in a row, she’s invited me to sit at her lunch table with Noelani and Soo, now that Isabelle’s out of the picture.
Last year Isabelle went to Brielle and Sophia Branson’s super-exclusive New Year’s Eve party. It was all over Instagram—Isabelle and Hailey, who had their own spin on Greek goddess costumes. It was genius.
The theme was “Heaven and Hell,” and apparently the caterers and bartenders and DJ were all dressed up like angels. Supposedly, there was a blue room with just one white couch where couples could hook up, and the pool had blue water, and Hayden Jones jumped into it from the roof completely naked, and Brielle and Sophia were the only ones who wore devil costumes. The whole thing ended up costing their parents $17,000, people said, for the fine they got from the Five-0 for violating the noise ordinance and providing alcohol to minors. No one even would have known about any of it if Komo Kalikoma didn’t get a dart stuck in his leg and almost bleed to death, so they had to call the ambulance.
Even though it’s only September, everyone’s already talking about this year’s parties, which are pretty much the ONLY thing happening around here. They’re mostly talking about THE party, the one at the Bransons’ on New Year’s Eve. To get into that one, you have to get on the list. And to get on the list, you have to be friends with Brielle or Sophia. Brielle was trying to tell Elau that this New Year’s, they’re having a Carnivale theme—with aerial dancers, a fortune-teller, and a tattoo artist. I don’t know why she was telling Elau. She’s never talked to him before.
But this New Year’s, I have to go. I have to see it all for myself, exactly what everyone’s still talking about till the next time. I’m already planning out my look—feathers and sequins—that’s totally my thing.
Amaretto sours. I heard Brielle telling Elau they are going to have those. She said they’re way more sophisticated than the cosmos they had at Heaven and Hell.
What in the world are amaretto sours???
WINTER
Prompt: Which celebrity would you like to meet?
Celebrities.
Once, this answer would have been easy: Anna Wintour, Nina García, Marc Jacobs, Angelina Jolie.
But now I don’t know. There’s vog inside my head, the dark, heavy ash carried over from Kīlauea Volcano on the Big Island. It’s darker, heavier than the fog that rolled into Oregon just before winter came. Nothing can clear it away. We have to wait it out.