Ova Da Rainbow: HAWAII'S STORY (3)

Without Colour

The way Hawaii grieved was different for each person. For May, it was denial, guilt, and anger that led the way.

This time, she felt numb. Everything was going on at once, and nothing exactly was making sense. The world seemed to be in black and white, like her television at home.

Everything seemed flat and lifeless.

She tried to focus on the people around her, but their faces seemed to blur together. She tried to listen to the sounds of all that was around her, but they all seemed to blend together into a dull buzz.

She felt like she was going crazy. She didn't know what was wrong with her. She didn't know how to make things feel real again. She felt like she was trapped in a nightmare, and she didn't know how to wake up. Nothing was in colour, nothing with light.

She felt her throat seem to tighten whenever she tried to speak, and so tried not to. There was no reason. She went through days upon days feeling weak and dizzy, like she was about to collapse.

Yua wanted to help, and Hawaiʻi let her, but it was just a numb acceptance of fate.

Hawaiʻi switched off the television, and sighed. She wouldn't cry, she told him she wouldn't cry for him. She promised she wouldn't. She promised... Oh Jesus, this was harder than she thought.

She picked up the phone, and dialled, hoping it would go through, but part of her wished it would just ring and ring and not pick up.

Pick up it did, and a familiar voice answered, and Hawaiʻi sighed. "Hey, 'Ilelani? I was wondering... how would you go about a Catholic funeral, anyways?"

"There's a lot of rites and things that go into it. Why? Are you alright?" Ireland said, and Hawaiʻi could hear the concern in his voice.

"I'm fine. Lau... Kalaupapa asked if he could have a Catholic funeral, and I am not qualified in anything religious, so... I wanted to ask someone who I know has experience. You don't have to do anything, I just want some advice and-"

"Haváí." The voice came gently, and Hawaiʻi stopped rambling for a moment.

"Yes?"

There was silence on the other end of the line, before Ireland spoke again, voice quiet and gentle, "Of course I'll help, Hawaiʻi. It's an honour to help you and one of the bravest kids I've ever met. When do you need me on your islands?"

Hawaiʻi smiled at that, looking down. "Depends how much time you need to get ready."

Hawaiʻi could almost hear Ireland's grin on the other end, and see his warm laugh that came with it.

"Then expect me to come to some islands near you very soon."

—

The airport was a bustling hive of activity, with people coming and going in a constant stream. The air was thick with the smell of coffee and jet fuel, and the sound of announcements and baggage carts filled the air. It was so lively for such a not so lively sort of day.

Hawaiʻi started to watch the people around her. There are families with young children, couples holding hands, and business travellers rushing to catch their flights.

There was a teen boy and his mother next to her. He was telling her he didn't need sunscreen, while she fussed over him and told him how he needed to protect himself. He was complaining the whole time, but it was obvious he was just excited to be here.

So many thoughts and so much pain.

Hawaiʻi tried to instead focus on the sound of the planes outside, and the feel of Yua's hand on hers, squeezing it tightly. "Hey, it's okay. Listen to me, alright, Lani? I just want you to know, it's gonna be alright."