R.B. Publishing: Little Island Tales

    Despite what Diego had told Tamah, he had no 'stuff'' to do. He honestly didn't even know why he was walking away. He just knew that the prospect of sitting down with her and Ka'lani made him a little sick to his stomach and he didn't know what to to do about it.
And so he walked back into the village. Away from the boot prints in the sand and away from his friends on the beach.
It was strange. He felt conflicted.
    He had known Ka'lani for basically his entire life, but in the recent months, it seemed like something was changing and he just couldn't put his finger on what. She was acting oddly and, even more, he found that this upset him for some reason.
    Why wouldn't she tell him who the flute was for? Better yet, why did that stupid detail seem to matter so much?
    The feeling he'd had a couple days prior when they were sitting under the coconut trees returned and he really didn't know what to do with it. It felt like his guts were tied into a knot and he just kept asking himself the same questions.
    Even with the discovery of tracks in the sand, human boot-prints that the warriors didn't recognize, his mind drifted elsewhere and that fact alone made him even more upset with himself. But he just couldn't knock away his distracting thoughts.
    So Diego decided to turn to the person he always turned to when he didn't know any better.
    And within a few minutes, he had found his mother.
Initially, Diego had checked a few places in town. He knew she wasn't at Grammy Koula's, since he'd just been there, and ended up checking at home at around the town center. It was as he was walking around the pyre, watching several men pack wood onto the flames, that she called out to him from Johanas' hut.
    He couldn't help but grimace.
    Walking up to the little wood shack near the town center, Diego was immediately struck by the smell of the place. Despite the fact the cookpot his mother was working in front of was producing a wonderful aroma of roots and vegetables, the house still smelled.
    Diego loved his mother's stew. While the recipe changed slightly depending on whether they had meat available and on what kind of vegetables were in season, his mother always mixed in a hefty amount of spices and potatoes that gave the dish a unique flavor no matter any minor alterations in ingredients.
But that just didn't matter in Johanas' hut.
The smell was something that had always been unique to the man that lived there and, for that reason, Diego often avoided the home despite it being so deep into the town proper. It wasn't anything rancid like rotting meat or foul like stooled fecal matter. It had a husky, deep scent that one adult had referred to as smelling like a 'skunk', though he had no real reference to the accuracy of that claim. Much like the incense the town burned every month, the stench came from the plants that Johanas grew, dried, and smoked in his meager little garden.
While cigarettes and smoking were uncommon overall, it seemed Johanas pretty much always smoked. He could regularly be seen with a hand-rolled cigarette hanging from his lips, a smile on his face, and a glaze in his eyes.
Today was no exception.
"Hey Diego." Johanas greeted with a genuine smile and a wave, the smoking cigarette dangling precariously from his widening grin.
"Hey Johanas." Diego responded with a quick, cursory nod as he made his way for his mother.
    Johanas leaned back in his chair and smiled wider, his mind clearly elsewhere.
    Diego couldn't help but stare for a moment, though.
    The man was not too much older than him really, maybe a few years at most; however he looked like he'd aged decades. He had been a relatively promising warrior despite a more carefree attitude, however some said that same attitude led to his failure. And his attack.
    Now, sitting there rocking back and forth, his wood chair covered in pillows and blankets, Diego found it fascinating how the man tended to stay so calm and happy. The once powerful, albeit stocky, ex-warrior had shrunken away from his short-lived prowess. His left leg was shriveled and destroyed, forcing him to walk with a cane and a semi-permanent splint around the leathered remains. On top of that, his left eye had been gouged out, leaving an empty, staring socket, and his left arm had been equally mangled although it was at least still usable.
    Supposedly it had all happened when he was caught out along by a aka-akua. Yet, to everyone's shock, he had somehow survived the encounter, albeit far from un-marred.
    The longer he stared, the more Diego thought that Johanas resembled a ghoul; some sort of monstrous creature half-alive and half-dead. Except for that permanent smile.
Diego had been young, but he still remembered seeing the mangled remains carted in off the beach and into Grammy Koula's hut. The smoking started shortly after he'd returned home; roughly half of what he'd been still functional.
But Johanas never stopped smiling. Never stopped laughing even if the laughter was at his own suffering. "Hello Nani." Tula said with a soft squeeze of her son's shoulder and a kiss on his forehead, drawing his attention away from Johanas. "I saw you wander by a few times."
    "I was looking for you." Diego answered his mother's unasked question.
    "You found her." Johanas confirmed with a widening grin.
    "What did you need, dear?" Tula asked with another squeeze of his should, her free hand still methodically stirring the stew.
"I guess I just wanted to talk...
Diego glanced back at Johanas who was now rummaging about in a bag next to his chair. His mother stared at him expectantly.
    "...it's ok though. I know you're busy." he said quickly, changing his mind about speaking near Johanas. "It's nothing important. I can talk later."
    "Are you sure?" Tula asked with a look of concern.
    "You alright, kid?" Johanas asked as he retrieved several pale white sticks from the bag.
    "Yea..." Diego commented half-heartedly and watched in confusion as the older set several of the sticks aside. "What are those?"
    At first glance, he had thought the sticks were another kind of cigarette. Just a different version of something. But they seemed hard. Too solid. They didn't look like wrapped paper as much as some sort of small carved stick.
    "Ha!" Johanas explained. "These? They're cane."
    Diego glanced up at his mother who started to smile knowingly.
    "Cane?"
    "Yea!" the older man said excitedly. "Here. Try one. Its the only cane in this house that doesn't suck to use."
Tula chuckled a bit as Diego hesitantly took one of the little white sticks.
"I mean, I guess it doesn't suck as much as you do." Johanas quickly added.
"I...what?" Diego asked in exasperation.
As an example, Johanas took one of the little sticks and popped it half way into his mouth. He proceeded to demonstrate biting down and sucking on the stick.
"I...I'm not sure I want..."
Tula gave her son a little nod as if in confirmation that Johanas wasn't insane for chewing on sticks.
Diego tried in turn.
The result was a blast of sweetness like Diego had never experienced. It made him openly gasp. Even though the stick itself seemed to be just that, an actual stick, the rush of sweet was more than enough to take his mind off it.
"Wow!" Diego exclaimed.
"Pretty sweet, eh?"
Tula groaned at him and Johanas laughed harder. He proceeded to go back and forth for a moment between his quickly dwindling cigarette and the chewed 'cane' stick as he called it, sucking on both with equal fervor.
    "This is really good!" Diego told him after sucking on the little white cane a few more times.
    "I like 'em." Johanas confirmed with a chuckle before closing his eyes and drifting back into a quiet stupor as he rocked back and forth in his chair.
    Diego sat in silence for a few minutes, chewing and sucking on the 'cane', just watching Johanas rock and his mother cook. That simple exchange had made him feel a little better and, when he'd thoroughly gnawed upon the little stick, he turned back to his mother.
"Mom, can I talk to you for a second?"