Kaua'i Me A River Part 7

"This goes way beyond *normal'," I said looking down at the matted carpet that had never known the whirr of a vacuum cleaner and the dog hair-encrusted blanket that had never felt the wet of a washing machine. "This is like a giant petri dish. Remember that scary stuff we grew in high school biology?"

"I don't dig your harsh remarks but I'm going to ignore them because I need your kokua-your help," Farrah said.

"Before I'll offer to help, I need some answers. Where's this baby's mother?"

"I don't know. Yesterday morning when I went down to work, there he was. Like baby Moses in the rushes."

I was surprised by Farrah's biblical reference. As far as I knew, she wasn't one to attend church, let alone read the Bible. But she was an ordained minister of an online spiritual community, "The Church of Spirit and Light." She'd become a minister so she could conduct wedding ceremonies for "Let's Get Maui'd", but no doubt she'd had to learn at least some measure of mainstream Christian/Judaic beliefs to pa.s.s the final exam.

"This baby was abandoned?"

"b.u.mmer, right? Here's the note." She handed me a note written in childish block letters on three-hole notebook paper.

Grocery store lady-Please take my boy. You can give him a new name if you want. Since you have lots of food I now he wont go hungary. Tell him his mama loves him very much.

The mother had misspelled a few words, but the message was clear.

"Wow, Farrah, you need to report this to the police," I said.

"You, of all people, want to see this little guy dumped in the system?" Farrah picked up the baby and clutched his damp diaper-clad body to her breast. With clutching hands the baby rooted around the bosom of her mu'u mu'u trying to figure out how to get to what lay beneath.

"Look, Farrah, you can't just keep a baby because some pathetic woman left it on your doorstep. There are laws."

"This is Hawaii. You weren't handed over to *the man' when your mom pa.s.sed. Your Auntie Mana took you in. No social workers, no judges, no nuthin' like that. So don't go all establishment on me here, Pali Moon. Help me figure out how I can keep my baby."

By the time we'd finished the Awake tea, we'd come up with a short term plan. I offered mother and baby safe haven at my house in Hali'imaile for a few days to get away from the prying eyes and ears of the customers at Farrah's store. Beatrice wouldn't be a problem because she's practically deaf, but it wouldn't be long before a customer would claim they were sure they heard a baby crying upstairs and want to investigate.

"I've got to clear this with Steve first," I said. "He's coming down to pick me up in a few minutes. But don't worry, it's just a formality."

Steve arrived twenty minutes later. On the drive to Hali'imaile I told him about Farrah's baby.

"Are you kidding?" he said. "How am I supposed to put up with p.o.o.py diaper smell? And waking up to bawling at three o'clock in the morning? It's just not in my nature to tolerate stuff like that."

"Look, Steve, I've heard what sounds like *bawling' coming from your room at three o'clock in the morning and I've never said a word."

He whipped his head around and looked at me aghast.

"Okay, I'm just kidding," I said. "But seriously, Farrah has to have somewhere to go while she figures this out. If a customer hears the baby and calls the police, not only will she get in trouble for having the baby, but she'll get kicked out of her apartment. It was condemned, remember? No one knows she lives up there."

"Oh bull," said Steve. "The whole town knows she's up there, including the cops. They don't ha.s.sle her because they need her to run the Gadda. If she left, then the weed-heads would try to b.u.m rides off tourists to get down to Kahului for their Cheetos or their rolling papers. The last thing the cops want to deal with is some stinky dope-smokers ha.s.sling Dot and Bob from Minneapolis."

We compromised with me offering to give up my downstairs bedroom to Farrah. I'd move into the guest room adjacent to Steve's bedroom on the second floor. "With the two of them downstairs you won't hear a thing. And I've laid down the law with Farrah about housekeeping. Diapers will be disposed of properly and bottles and nipples will be washed and put away promptly."

"Nipples?" said Steve. He shimmied in disgust. "Let's avoid mentioning stuff like that, okay? I won't be able to get that image out of my head for a week."

"Oh get over it. You were a baby once."

"Not hardly. I sprang full-bearded from an Abercrombie & Fitch catalog."

"You're not *full-bearded' now," I said, reaching over to stroke Steve's pathetic Brad Pitt goatee. He'd spent a small fortune on online products including a *facial hair stimulator' that looked suspiciously like a vibrator I'd come across at a rather tawdry bridal fair.

I went on. "Please act nice. Farrah's been through a lot this past year."

Steve reluctantly agreed. "How long is the rug rat going to live with us?"

"Hard to say. I'm going to get in touch with Sifu Doug's lawyer brother, James. I have to play it cool, since Farrah doesn't want *the man' involved. But I'm worried the baby's mother will pop back into the picture after she comes down from whatever she was hopped up on when she ditched the kid. If that happens, Farrah will be heartbroken."

"Farrah's not planning on keeping the kid forever, is she?" Steve's voice zoomed up a couple of octaves.

"Seems that's what she's thinking. But it's not like she came across a kitten in her dryer vent. She's going to have to jump through some hoops to be able to keep him."

"Whoa. But you just said they weren't going to stay for very long. I mean, we all love Farrah. No argument there. But a droopy drawers kid pitching food off a high chair and the TV blasting Barney the Dinosaur when I'm trying to sleep in? Ugh."

"Don't worry. The kid will be long gone before he ever needs a high chair."

"Pinkie swear?" said Steve.

I held up my pinkie finger. "Swear."

"On another subject, tell me what you found out about your mom over in Kaua'i."

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" he said. "Then why did the lawyer make you go over there?"

"To let me know my SOB father had died."

"Wow, you found your father? Who was he?"

"I just told you. He was an SOB and now he's dead. End of story."

CHAPTER 11.

On Thursday morning I got up before dawn and went down to the Palace of Pain, the martial arts studio where I work out. Because I'd had so many weddings in June I'd been spotty in getting in my workouts. I hoped it was early enough that my instructor, Sifu Doug, wouldn't be in yet.

No such luck. His car was parked in the alley.

"Hey, stranger," he said when I came inside.

"Hey, Sifu. I've been over in Kaua'i." I left it vague, hoping he'd think I'd been off-island for most of June.

"How long were you over there?"

"I just got back yesterday."

"Okay, don't tell me. But you know if you don't keep up your practice you'll get soft." He nodded toward the wall where my picture hung alongside the five other black belts, all of them guys, who trained at PoP, "You know lots of keiki girls look up to you."

"Sorry, Sifu. But this was a busy month."

"Then I better let you get to it. You gonna go through your forms?" It wasn't a question, it was an order.

"Yes, Sifu."

"All of them?"

"Yes, sir."

I'd planned to stay about an hour but it turned out to be closer to two. I took a quick shower and started to head out when I noticed Sifu Doug sitting in his office. No time like the present. I poked my head inside.

"You got a minute?" I said.

"Sure, just move that stuff off the chair."

I sat down on a metal folding chair across from Doug. Three years ago when I first laid eyes on him he'd scared the daylights out of me. Former Army Ranger, chiseled good looks, eyes that bore into opponents with such ferocity that he'd won more than a few fights by sheer intimidation.

"What's happenin'?" he said.

"I've got a problem."

He smiled. "Pali, you know I love you like a sista, but just once I'd like you to come into my office carrying something other than a problem."

"I know; I apologize. How about I make you some cookies or something?"

"I got a wife for that," he said. "But next time you hear some gossip, or a good joke, you come tell me. I get first dibs."

I thought about my meeting yesterday. Talk about a joke. My father had been Hawaii's cable mogul and I found out I had six siblings. And from the looks of things I'd be coming into some serious cash real soon. But I wasn't there to talk about me.

"You got it, Sifu. Next time I get something juicy you'll be the first to know."

"Okay, so what's on your mind?"

"All of this is just conjecture, okay? A total what-if."

"Got it."

"If someone asks someone else to raise their kid for them, is it legal?"

"You know it is. We got hanai kids all over these islands. You were a hanai kid yourself, weren't you?"

"Right. But my mother was dead and my father was gone. There was n.o.body to tell my Auntie Mana she couldn't take me in."

"What are you getting at? You got that biological clock tickin' and you thinkin' of s.n.a.t.c.hin' a kid? That is totally not legal, believe me." He smiled but his eyes held a squint of concern.

"No, no, nothing like that. Like I said, this is just a *what if'. But if a mother came to me and asked me to raise her kid because she couldn't, could I do it?"

"I think so. That's how hanai works. You both agree. On the mainland I think they call it an open adoption. But you'd have to ask my brother James about the stuff you gotta do to make it all legal. He's the lawyer."

"What happens if you don't do it all legal?"

"Pali, I don't know what you're getting at here. But if you don't do it legal, then I suppose if the parents change their mind they could come after you. It could be bad. They could demand you give the kid back. They could call you a kidnapper. You'd have to ask James, but kidnapping's a serious crime. Maybe even federal."

"Yeah, I think that's right."

"You want me to ask James to give you a call?" he said. "Or is this all still *what if'?"

"I'd appreciate a call. I'm working at lot, so please have him call me at the shop, not at home."

"Will do." He got up and extended a hand. We did his little *man shake' thing with a few fist b.u.mps and slides and then he slapped me on the shoulder. "Take care of yourself, Pali. No good comes from messing around with the law." He winked. "You think you want a kid? I bet I could talk Lani into handing over one of ours."

I went to my shop and started sorting through the mound of mail that had come through the slot while I was gone. Most of it was junk mail and catalogs, but there were also some vendor bills from all the weddings I'd done that month.

I felt restless and hungry so I went next door for a yogurt.

"Hey, Bea," I yelled as I went in. "Still working, I see."

"Uh-huh. I don' know what's wrong with Farrah. Last night somebody tell me they hear cryin' upstairs. She okay when you went up there?"

"Yeah, it was probably just Sir Lipton whining."

"Winning? Did that dog win somethin'? That's a smart dog, I guess. But all I ever see is it do its business in the alley and then go back up the stairs. They give prizes for that?"

I got up close and talked slowly. "I think it was Farrah's dog making the noise."

"Oh yeah. Prob'ly wanted to be let out."

I bought my yogurt and went to my shop and called Steve. "I don't know what to do. I've got a million things to do to catch up, but I've got to get Farrah out of her apartment. It can't wait until the weekend. Somebody at the store heard the baby crying last night."

He sighed so loud I had to hold the phone away from my ear.

"Let me get back to you," he said.

Right after I hung up, the phone rang again. "That was quick," I said.

"What was quick, dear?" It was Eleanor.

"Oh, sorry, Eleanor. I thought you were someone else."

"Who else would I be, dear?"