North Star

41 | bigger than the whole sky

2011

I found out my father died on a Tuesday afternoon when I came home from school.

Until then, I would have said it had been a good day, which was unheard of. Not just in general, but specifically because it was a weekday. Good days and school didn't go together. Ever. But, despite how much I wanted to protest the idea, school had been uncharacteristically... fine. And when most days consisted of constantly being on the edge of a panic attack or hiding out in the bathroom to avoid them, fine was exactly what it needed to be, and far more appreciated than it should have been. It stood out to me enough that I had searched for Kaipo all day so I could tell him about it, but someone told me he had called out sick, and I had forgotten my phone at home so I wasn't able to text him either.

Even the weather was pleasant. After a week of storm clouds and downpours, I was more than delighted about being able to soak up the warmth of a sun that had come back out to play. As I sat by the bus stop in the afternoon, I thought to myself about how much I didn't want to leave. I would have been happy to sit there for hours, enjoying the grass beneath my fingertips, breathing in that endless breeze of fresh air.

It hadn't occurred to me that there might have been another reason for it. That maybe, deep down, part of me knew something was wrong, and that any happiness derived from any fraction of that day was my subconscious trying to distract me from what was really going on. Something that monumental in my life, shifting out of it in such a violently abrupt way, had to have some kind of effect on me, even if I wasn't aware of it at the time.

Since I didn't have my phone, I was forced to listen to everyone and everything around me while I sat on the bus on my way home. Most of the high school kids got off at various spots along the way throughout Hawaii Kai, with a smaller handful of students that lived in Waimanalo; I usually chose a spot in the back so I wouldn't have to deal with people pushing past to get off at their stop.

The buzz of the engine thrummed behind us. Constant chatter flickered back and forth around the bus, an easy temptation to eavesdrop if I could hear or be bothered to care. Every time the doors opened, a gust of wind rushed past, letting in the sound of surrounding traffic. It all blended together into a mild symphony of noises I had never tried to process before. I spent so long trying my best to separate myself from the rest of it that I didn't anticipate how... normal it could feel. Deep down, while I knew I had no interest in staying there or any place with that many people, it was a strange relief to know I could survive it, even if it were only for a short twenty-minute bus ride.

When I stepped off the bus that day, my life changed forever.

It took about ten minutes to walk home from the bus stop, and it was like everything that had happened before suddenly evaporated. I couldn't quite explain it. Something in my chest tightened, and the air around me shifted like it was pushing down on me. Once the house came into view and I didn't see anyone's car outside, I was confused, but I kept walking.

When I noticed Kaipo sitting on the front steps after a few seconds, I knew something was wrong. I had no idea what, and my brain conjured up a million different reasons why he could be there, but they were all tamer than the real thing turned out to be.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I asked cautiously, trying to make my question sound lighter than it did. "Thought you were sick. Liar."

"Hoku—" His words stopped short as he stood up. Not only was he taller than me, but he also stood a step higher which granted him such extra height, enough that I hadn't I crane my neck up to look him in the eyes, yet I had never seen Kaipo look so small before. And I had known him since we were babies. I didn't like what I saw in those eyes. "Hokulani... I'm so sorry."