Nalani

"Don't be difficult, please, dear." She wisely wished to change the subject. "By the way, I couldn't help but notice that the cuatro Kaleo was playing..."

Ezekiel added a dash of pride to his flustered smile. "... is still the family heirloom? Yes, love, you saw correctly." He gave her a tender kiss on her forehead and walked away from the table.

"Ezekiel Molina, where are you going? You're not running away from our opening dance, are you?"

"Not a chance, sweetheart! I want to go take a closer look at the mural the kids have set up... are you coming?"

"You go ahead, darling... I haven't had a chance to mingle with our family and the guests yet... I had to help Nalani with the finishing touches, remember?"

"You will be a mother-hen to the last, Lehuanani Molina... our daughter has survived Vietnam, she can certainly manage and MC a family reunion!"

Ezekiel has, in fact, been repeating variants of that mocking litany for the last eighteen years, ever since the family home has been vacated by their children.

"You know me so well..." and Lehuanani smiled in return, having given up all hope that her loving husband would ever change his tune.

While walking towards the family mural, Ezekiel, by habit, took a family head count.

(... five, six, seven: the kids are all here... fourteen, fifteen, sixteen: ah? I don't see one of the grandkids; the three great-grandchildren are here and, thank God, sound asleep; Dick and Earl are here too, wow! With Mike now gone, this could be the last time...)

He inwardly scolded himself for such thoughts of finality. Ezekiel now examined a huge mural of photos and mementos, mounted on the lime green background color of the 80th FS and spanning almost 20 ft. long by 5 ft. high. The title was posted in huge golden letters.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY - 75 YEARS - EZEKIEL AND LEHUANANI MOLINA

IN LOVING ADMIRATION AND REMEMBRANCE

Truth be told, Ezekiel - who, with his advancing age, had grown to disapprove of any kind of fuss - was slack-jawed by the scope of this montage. He could not fathom how had such archival work been accomplished in family secrecy.

He saw a childhood picture of himself proudly holding pineapples beside his parents, and one of him riding his Alcyone bicycle at the University of Hawaii College of Education. Beside those two was the only known picture of a young Lehuanani with her mother, taken just before the war.

Next were the Headhunter pictures, with the patch and several pictures of Squad Blue Three-Four, as it became known. Richard had flown with Ezekiel for their twenty-eight months of service together; and Ezekiel, Richard and their two crew chiefs had become a bridge foursome that had remained in close contact, Richard had been Ezekiel's best man and all three partners are godfathers of some of his children. Ezekiel briefly looked again at his two surviving comrades and his heart felt a twinge.

Ezekiel then examined the post-war pictures. There was one of a pregnant Lehuanani disembarking from SS Monterey in Honolulu Harbor, with baby Nalani, in February 1946; followed by pictures of Ezekiel and Lehuanani moving into their house in Palolo, along with a young Nalani and newborn Leilani; there were also several pictures of the humble beginnings, when Ezekiel worked at odd jobs and studied under the GI Bill.

Then, to Ezekiel's amazement, the family had retrieved all of his forty-one school class pictures from Palolo Elementary and interspaced them with family pictures. There was camping, including a snapshot of the complete household in their ridiculously huge Chevrolet Kingswood 1960; the street party the family had organized to celebrate Hawaii becoming a US state in 1959; visiting Mona Kea; cycling trips; Ezekiel and Lehuanani joining the Hawaii Bicycle Club in 1975; the first century ride in 1982; that section culminated with pictures of their retirement parties in 1992 and, finally, of the full world cruise Ezekiel and Lehuanani took together, in early 1994, to celebrate their Golden wedding anniversary.

Next were the diplomas: all of them, all three generations, plus the graduation pictures. Followed by milestones of the achievements of Ezekiel's favorite student in the whole universe: his beloved wife. Her admission letter for a BA in Public Health, in 1968; pictures of Lehuanani back in school; pictures of her working on campaigns for quitting smoking, prevention of STDs and promotion of youth exercise; copies of articles she had published. Ezekiel felt a second twinge in his heart upon reading again her denunciation of witch killing in Papua New Guinea, a tolerated crime which had claimed the life of Kaamia Angara in 1976, soon after the country's independence.

Lastly, but certainly not least, were the children's adult pictures. Nalani in her WAF uniform while serving as medevac nurse in Vietnam; Leilani proudly displaying her harvest of organic pineapples; Makani speaking at an astronomy conference about his research at the CFHT; Luana photographed while performing surgery at Queen's Hospital; Kaleo and his trio playing in a concert hall packed with cheering fans; Alamea posing in front of a LEED-certified building she had designed; Naia at the controls of the C141 Starlifter she pilots, both his oldest and baby girls thus showcasing the evolution of women's role in US military aviation. Ezekiel experienced a third twinge in his heart, one of immense pride, and he sighed so loudly that he looked around to check if it had been noticed.

That's when Ezekiel saw Kailani, the oldest daughter of Alamea, walking towards him with a gift-wrapped box. Her mother and grandmother were both behind her. He straightened himself and now stood almost at attention.

(So the grandkids are all here after all! How old is she now... twelve? No, thirteen, yes... thirteen.)

"Hey, hey! There you are young lady, I was just wondering where you were hiding!" Even on civil occasions, she was dressed so neatly, with her jet-black hair always tied in a bun so impeccable, that Kailani still looked like a girl in uniform.

"Hello Grandpa and happy birthday... I have a gift for you, but I don't know where to put it or when you should open it. It's kinda fragile."

"Why, thank you, sweetie! That's most kind! How about I open it right now?" He looked at Lehuanani for confirmation, as he always did in social occasions. She silently gave her assent with a nervous smile.

Alamea also seemed a little worried. "I hope you like it, dad... she put a lot of work into it..."

"Of course I'll like it! What do you thin..." Ezekiel opened the box with care while wondering aloud what gift could generate such anxiety in his family. Then, when he saw her present, Ezekiel completely lost his train of thought; in fact, he even lost his grip on reality for a moment.

Ezekiel was holding a replica of a dispersal pad; there was a 1:72 model kit of a P-38J Lightning on it; its propeller spinners were lime green.

---

Ezekiel was happy and carefree, finally contemplating, at the edge of the horizon, the outline of the Owen Stanley Range. In a sense, it had been a long and a swift return journey; it had begun on 26 December 1945, the day the 80th Fighter Squadron was deactivated in Fukoka airbase, Japan. Ezekiel had haggled a special permission to ferry Nalani back to a reclamation depot in Port Moresby before finalizing his demobilisation. With the cooperation of the weather, he had backtracked in three days a flight path that had originally been ploughed through during twenty months of combat: Fukoka, le Shima, Mindoro, Morotai, Owi Pulau and finally Port Moresby, where a wife and a young daughter were waiting for him.

While he was flying Nalani on the last leg of her final flight, Ezekiel indulged a boyish urge while he was still over the Bismarck Sea. He gave some throttle and they climbed; he put on his oxygen mask; they kept on climbing; then he leveled and spurred her on. "Nalani, old girl, give it all you've got..."

At full power and combat pitch on the propellers, the war-weary P-38J reached 422 mph at 26 000 ft. and Ezekiel felt a huge and irrational pride in his aircraft. After a minute or so of this high-speed dash, he lowered the dive flaps that had been retrofitted in January 1944 and he pushed the yoke. Nalani complied and, now in a full-power dive, the indicated airspeed peaked at 597 mph while her controls remained responsive. Ezekiel yelled in excitement like a child riding a roller coaster.

Once he had trimmed and set Nalani back on the route of his flight plan, Ezekiel praised his flying warhorse. "Good girl... you still have it in you!"

At that very moment, a chill ran through Ezekiel's spine and he was no longer alone in his single-seat fighter: facing him was the ghost of Jim Russell, then the one of Kenichi Tanaka, and then there was Porky, and eventually the cockpit was packed with ghosts, most of them in flying gear; Ezekiel even recognized Japanese faces he had only glimpsed at in enemy canopies.

Ezekiel Molina then cried like he would never cry again; a truly horrible and tragic lament. He apologized over and over to God, to the ones he had killed, to the ones he had failed to escort to safety, to his wife for his absence, to his cherished aircraft for leaving it behind to rust after it had pulled him through two years of combat unscathed and victorious twelve times; and after running out of reasons to apologize, Ezekiel just kept on crying and wailing in pain as long as it took to exorcise the war from his soul.

---

"Grandpa?"

"This... this is absolutely amazing, sweetie... how?"

Young Kailani was beaming with happiness and pride. "I always ask the manager at the hobby shop to keep a watch for Headhunter models and, last year, he ordered for me a decals kit that appeared on the market. I tried to make a model of Nalani for you, but I couldn't customize it... the scale is just too small. Mom helped with the kunai grass replica and aunt Nala lent me some pictures from your scrapbooks. Do you recognize the plane? It's Uncle Cy's Angel!"

"I certainly do... and I also remember Cyril Homer, who flew that P-38. He succeeded Jay Robbins as squadron commander when your aunt Nalani was almost one month old... about the time I got the letter announcing me her birth, as a matter of fact!"

There was a glimpse of disbelief in the eyes of Ezekiel's granddaughter.

"What? Did I say something wrong?" Ezekiel was now looking anxiously at his female audience.

Kailani answered with the unfiltered candor of youth. "No offense, Grandpa... but when we go shopping together, you never remember where are the stores and always forget where our car is parked afterwards..." under the disapproving frown of her mother, Kailani winced.

"HA HA! Haaa, but this is different, young lady! I'm sure your aunt Luana could explain it better, but here is my theory. You see, to make your model more lifelike, you would have to add all the patches our P-38s had, to fix all the bullet and shell holes. Well, I believe that, for each one of those holes, there is an identical mark in my memory and in my heart. I will never forget my time flying Nalani and I will treasure your wonderful gift forever. Thank you very, very, very, very much!"

Kailani was so overjoyed that Alamea and Lehuanani were both moved. "You're very welcome grandpa!!! And did you know that, while assembling that model, I also did a research paper on you, both for school and one my cadet classes?"

"You did? Well... I'm very flattered. And... huh... well... do you like being in the cadets?"

"Yeaaa! And in three years, I'm going to graduate from the Flight Academy with my solo rating!"

"I'm sure you will! And do you plan on attending the US Air Force Academy, like your aunt Naia did?"

"Of course, grandpa! But I'm going to fly F-15s!!!" There was an intensity in her pledge that left very little doubt about its accomplishment.

"F-15s?!? WoHooo!!! Why that aircraft in particular, sweetie?"

"Because it's a big, badass, twin-engine air superiority fighter... just like the P-38s you flew... you see, you're kinda my idol, grandpa..."

Both grandfather and granddaughter were blushing. "Kailani, are you too old to be seen giving a kiss on your grandfather's cheek in public?"

She eagerly landed a huge, loud, wet smooch on his offered cheek. "For you grandpa, I'll never be too old! Loveya!"

The lights were now dimmed and Alamea stepped in. "Come on, Kai... grandpa and grandma have to dance now... I'm sure you can talk to him a little later." Kailani waved goodbye with a grateful smile before walking away with her mother.

But Ezekiel was not quite done. "Come visit! We'll share a root beer and look at the scrapbooks if you want!" He then felt the familiar hand of his adoring wife on his arm and, after carefully placing his gift on a table, he turned to face her.

"Well, well, well... 4 September 1999... better late than never, huh?" His smile was a blend of tease and bewilderment.

"What are you musing about now, Ziki darling?" She was leading him towards the center of the dance floor.

He took her in his arms. "Lehuanani Molina... great love of my life... that's twice."

Between them, there was a spark of recognition; not only of a date in 1943, but of their bygone youth, which both had traded for a generous life full of love and respect. There were thousands of things, at that moment, which Ezekiel wanted to say to his wife, to sum up his gratitude, love and admiration for their life together, plus his hopes for their time yet to come, but he could not piece them in coherent sentences.

No matter, because Lehuanani Molina could always read her beloved like an open book; she often joked that it was her favorite gift as a witch.

"I love you too, lover boy..." Lehuanani kissed the man of her dreams like a flirting teenager, under the loud cheers of all present and the opening melody of Moonlight Serenade. She then took off her shoes, set them aside and positioned herself for a foxtrot. "Now, let's show to these grunge groupies how it was done in the good old days..."