Another Day in Paradise

by J Luc Pitard

Disclaimer: I do not claim any ownership of Spirited Away or any like properties of Studio Ghibli or Hayao Miyazaki. This story is for entertainment only. Consult a physician if symptoms continue.

1.

Despite the earliness of the hour, Chihiro Ogino wasn't surprised to see a note on the table when she came out of her room. Her mother's flowing characters said:

Gone to golf w/the ladies. Still interested in ikebana club

tomorrow? I'll drive. Mahjong this afternoon, and I'm meeting

Dad for dinner. You're on your own, don't work too hard!

Love,

Mom

Her mother, Yuuko Ogino liked to play a few holes before the tourists got up and took over the premier golf courses. Her father, Agio Ogino was already at the airport, holding up a sign and waiting for his most important clients to arrive on the international red eye flight. Most Japanese celebrities and athletes preferred to travel anonymously and he would pick them up with class, but discretion. Unfortunately, he would then drive them back to the resort for the start of their first class vacations. Chihiro winced at the thought of her father and his shortcuts, the sort that sometimes left him on the wrong side of the island.

She scratched her back as she stretched in the kitchen's morning light. Reaching over to the large window that wrapped around the eating area, she pulled back the curtains; the Pacific Ocean glittered just over the tops of the houses making her smile. It was another beautiful day in paradise. She walked around the table to the small refrigerator and moved aside plastic containers of leftovers until she found the orange juice carton. Her family rarely ate together anymore, but her mother insisted on cooking 'a little taste of home' for them almost every night. Chihiro appreciated the effort, but did her mother honestly think they'd ever eat it all? She thought about a bowl of rice and soup for breakfast, but why not head into town for something sweet instead?

Chihiro took the glass of juice with her as she gathered clothes for the day. Living in Hawai'i for the past few years, she'd gotten a bit spoiled by the casual attitude toward dress. She grabbed a striped t-shirt and shorts, then hummed as she looked for some clean underwear, an old bra and her flip flops. She bundled them into a ball in her arms, black sandals hanging from her fingertips. All I need for a day of work, she thought; that's a far cry from friends, like poor Rumi, playing office lady, dressing like businesswomen do, trussed up in suits and heels all day! She shook her head and smiled as she entered the small shower. Hot water was a bit unreliable by this time of the morning since both her parents had showered and her mother had no doubt run a load of laundry and dishes by now. It neither surprised her, nor bothered her when the stream of steaming hot water grew tepid, but she jumped out as it started toward the other extreme. She toweled off and dressed quickly, frowning at her tan lines. Looking in the mirror as she pulled her dark brown hair back into a pony tail, she saw a boring girl with brown eyes too widely spaced and puppy fat that was taking forever to go away. She'd been around enough models lately that she had no illusions about her own looks. Average. That was the most charitable praise she could manage. Not tall, not short, just average. She looked down at her thin form, wishing for at least a woman's figure. Nope. Chihiro sighed. She looked at the clock and pulled her thoughts back to the piece due today. She'd e-mailed her contact at the publisher, but it would probably be at least an hour before she was called back. Time to get walking. Last thing to do on the way out of the door was to grab her bag with the laptop and go greet the day.

Summertime in Hawai'i can get oppressively hot and sticky, but with a breeze coming off of the mountains, Chihiro didn't mind. The morning hadn't gotten bad yet. She walked along the residential streets, past well kept houses and squalid 'surfer' homes that sat cheek to jowl on her street. Dogs barked, kids played and she heard music of all sorts serenading her as she walked. One tune drifted above the others and stopped her in her tracks. It was a flute. No, she corrected herself, it was a shakuhachi. She hadn't heard that sound since she left Japan. The traditional tune sounded so pure and so mournful that she felt all other sounds die away. Her feet carried her closer to the source.

The next thing she knew, she was standing at the cast iron fence of the Hale'iwa Kyokaido. How had she gotten four blocks out of the way? Chihiro couldn't remember and couldn't focus on anything until a gentle, smiling face appeared in her line of sight. The elderly priest spoke softly, and in Japanese, though she didn't notice that right away. “May I help you, child?”

Chihiro shook her head, really feeling like a child again before feeling like a fool. “I'm sorry,” she answered in Japanese. “Please forgive me. I was listening to...” she said, her voice drifting off as she realized it was silent again, the normal sounds of her neighborhood rushed in to fill the vacuum. “Oh. I thought I heard some music?”

“No,” the priest said, his friendly smile still intact. “But if you come back tonight, we have musicians and dancers from Japan to perform in our O-bon dance.” He handed her a flyer he drew out from a long sleeve of his black robe before bowing and stepping away from the fence.

Chihiro stood gazing into the compound a few minutes more, unsure what she hoped to see besides the white building with its glass and columns. I must be more homesick than I knew, she thought. She shook her head and began to head back to the main drag. Hale'iwa wasn't a big town, but had grown, even in the few years since her family moved in. While there were chain places springing up, she tried to support the smaller businesses. She reached up to rub her head with one hand as she walked, keeping the coffee house as her goal. No more distractions, she thought, tapping her laptop with her other hand. Perhaps she could pitch a story about the O-bon to the travel magazine, she mused. She looked at the brochure. There were performances scheduled through August, so she had a chance.

Her family wasn't religious, stopping by that temple maybe once since they moved into town, but Chihiro liked the ceremonies and back at home she'd been good about putting out offerings for the ancestors and lost spirits on the home altar. There was a small Shinto shrine she liked to go to whenever she visited Rumi's home outside Nagoya. It had a park area around the shrine houses and a small stream ran through it. That was the only place she'd ever felt like the spirits responded to her. Once as a teenager, she'd spent an entire day there without noticing the time. As the sun went down, she was still lazing by the water, running her fingers through ripples. Her best friend came up behind her, teasing that she should become a nun and get married to the spirit world. Chihiro almost fell into the water in shock! There was a strange aching in her gut, almost a longing... Probably just hunger since she'd forgotten their picnic altogether. Looking back now, Chihiro wondered.

As the coffee house on the corner came into sight, Chihiro laughed at herself, ready to write off her strange thoughts. Perhaps I need something from home so much, I'm making up mysteries? Still, maybe she would stop by tonight.

The door chimes tinkled as she pushed her way in past three scruffy boys who were leaving. The sickly sweet smell of marijuana left with them and she rolled her eyes at the waitress who watched her with silent giggles.

“Aloha kakahiaka. Usual for you?” the waitress asked. Chihiro flushed with pleased surprise. She wouldn't consider herself a regular though she stopped once every few weeks. The girl began to bus a table off to the side. The glare wasn't as bad there once the sun got higher.

“Thank you,” Chihiro said softly as she pulled her laptop out and settled into an old wooden chair. The screen lit up with several open documents that all needed different stages of attention. She half watched the dark haired girl go back to the diner bar and pick up several carafes of coffee. Chihiro hoped they weren't all for her and almost said something, but was placated when the girl went around the room refilling everyone's cup before coming to her table. The dining area was small, seating a maximum of thirty, according to a fading sign on the wall, plus eight at the counter. As usual it was crowded, a mix of people and languages. She thought she saw some familiar faces, but couldn't swear to it. “Busy morning?” she asked politely once her cup was filled with the house blend without her having to ask.

“Phew,” the waitress said, blowing the stray hairs that had freed themselves from a tight bun. “Morning rush almost ovah.” The accents caused Chihiro some confusion when she first moved to the North Shore of O'ahu, but now that they'd settled in, she'd come to understand the dialect better. It wasn't like the English she'd learned in school but, since it was an amalgam of languages, it was somehow easier. “Plenty people here earlier cuz da temple.”

“I beg your pardon?” Chihiro still didn't understand all of it, it seemed.

“Plenty Buddah heads. Ah, sorry.” The girl was moving the coffee pots between her hands uneasily. “Bon dance, yeah? Not for me.” She pointed to a silver cross pendant that dangled above the top of her apron. Her manner had started to change, warming up as Chihiro nodded and held up her brochure. The waitress smiled, saying, “Some-a the guys though. Oh! So ono, y'know?” Chihiro shook her head to indicate that she didn't understand; she thought 'ono' pertained to food and was a good thing, but she didn't really follow. The woman decided to elaborate, “Like dis one guy? I was like, Damn! I no could talk, yeah? Pretty, all green hair, but long.” She gestured to a point on her shoulder before going on, “So you gonna tink, punk, or sum ting? But da clothes dey wear? All kimono and shit with slippahs. Oh, sorry. No hu hu. I bettah stay work, stop saying da kine, eh? So rude, yeah?” She laughed at herself as she went back to the swinging doors of the kitchen. Chihiro waved her hand to show no offense taken, but she was relieved to have a chance to pick over what the girl had said without a new torrent to translate.

Were there some guys from the temple wearing pretty kimonos and eating tasty food? She laughed at the image that brought to mind. Last year she was assigned to cover a drag club for the raunchy magazine that her publisher put out, but it was nixed before she started. That was the only place she could imagine men wearing such get ups, so the waitress probably meant the monks in their robes. Green hair? In Hale'iwa, that wasn't unusual, really. Maybe the monks took in a hippy? If so, he'd lose that long hair. She pushed it out of her mind and stared at the stories she was working on, putting off until last the one due immediately. It needed the least attention, just formatting.

Puff pieces weren't the reason she got a journalism degree, but they paid the bills and worked with her lifestyle. If she'd stayed in Tochinoki when her parents moved, she could probably be working for NHK by now, but she felt strangely protective of her parents. She couldn't let them head off to a foreign land by themselves. Who knew what trouble they would get into on their own! It was a good thing, too. Her mother was barely able to speak English at all. She had a clique of Japanese women to do things with, but was lost on her own. Her father spoke well, but not quite as fluently as he thought. Since his clients were mainly Japanese, he got along fine, but she had to help him out all the time with business translations.

She drank her coffee and typed. Pastries came and were devoured without thought. When the streets began to fill with curious tourists heading for shave ice or other attractions in the area, Chihiro decided it was time to get back to her little office and check in. She put her money on the table, carefully calculating the tip.

“Thank you,” she said when the girl came back. The waitress sat down in the seat across the table with an exhausted sigh, surprising Chihiro.

“Pau hana, finally!” the girl said, slapping the table with a fist. “Sorry I dissed da temple boyz, yeah? No hard feeling?” She stuck her hand out to Chihiro. “I'm Kanoni.”

“Chihiro,” she said and returned the handshake. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.” How many times had she come here and never met any of the servers by name? It seemed to be a 'mom and pop' coffee shop and they all worked hard, the older couple staying mainly in the kitchen and three girls who bore a strong family resemblance took shifts serving. The girls looked to be Hawaiian or Samoan or perhaps some mix of things, but Chihiro didn't feel it would be polite to ask since they were technically just meeting, even if after several years.

“So you do stories, yeah?” Kanoni's pretty face split with a happy grin as she looked at the back of the laptop. When Chihiro nodded, Kanoni continued, “What you tink about da squatters? Kickin' 'em out now the land so valuable. So where they gonna go, you know?” She shrugged her shoulders. Chihiro was proud she could follow the conversation, but she wasn't sure what to say. Undaunted, Kanoni continued, “You know what dey try do? Squatter's law. Dey hire fancy sharks to do it. Let 'em, I say.”

Hesitantly, Chihiro tried to join in. “So they want the land rights? Can they do that?”

“Bumbai, they own it if dey stay no go. But da rich owners, they try make dem move, gotta keep the rights, mowin' it down every couple years, yeah?” She made a sound between her teeth. “Ugly.”

“Oh, it sounds bad, yes.”

“No, the squatters. Ugly mo' fo. 'Dey come in now and then. Take a damn bath in the sink! Mud all ovah. Who cleans it up! Who you tink?” She shook her head.

Chihiro felt she could empathize, though she'd never had to clean up such a mess. “Well,” she said tentatively. “Surely they don't have money? Will the state help them?”

Kanoni smiled, clearly pleased that Chihiro was willing to try to hold a conversation about a local issue. “You alright, Chi-hiro. Yeah, Auntie Linda gonna come take 'em off our hands. They can get a lawyer, 'dey can get the hell outta here. Who wanna live in tents and buckets anyway? My cousin live on one beach till the state kick him out. Now he got a job and family. Never can tell.” She stood and Chihiro saw her as if for the first time. The girl was maybe just out of high school and actually quite stunning. She could have walked off of a hula poster Chihiro had seen at the main office. Kanoni was tall and willowy, with high cheekbones that Chihiro was certain a makeup artist would have fun with. She'd watched glamour shoots as makeup artists took perfectly ordinary looking girls and made them look mysterious and spectacular. What could one do with someone like Kanoni who had such natural beauty? Her smile revealed white, slightly uneven teeth and it caused Chihiro to smile as well.

“Maybe you write about this, huh?” her new friend asked.

She nodded even though she could never sell cane squatters to the tourism rags she wrote for. “Thank you very much.”

“Nah, no need.” She waved as she walked away, taking her apron off and tossing it in the face of another girl who was walking out of the kitchen with her hands full of plates of food. Shouting between the girls started, but Chihiro was packed and out of the door, unable to make out the words even if she'd stayed.

She made it home without any strange incidents, for which she felt grateful. The breeze had died down and the sun was merciless. If she hadn't remembered sunscreen, she'd have burned up before she made it into the safety of the quiet house. She walked into her small room and flipped on the fans. Various technologies cheerfully informed her that her editor/boss had received some of the work, but was looking for the rest. She called the local office. The flustered secretary passed her call on after losing the line several times first. Luckily, Chihiro was used to this and had the number on speed dial.

“Young Miss Ogino?” The man's voice made her smile, she was always amused at how he led with formality, even if he was chewing you out. They always spoke Japanese with one another. “It's about time you called in! Did you get my revised due dates? Hilton wants to see the finished article before they commit, damn them.”

Chihiro checked her e-mail and groaned at the workload. She had the notes ready, so it wasn't dire. “I can do this, Mr. Yamaguchi. Don't worry.” She heard him exhale, probably smoking despite the laws. He was in a Honolulu office building and at least could open the window to reduce the second hand smoke.

“Of course you can, that's why we keep you around. Perhaps you'd like to tell me why we only got half of your file on the hiking trails? The translators needed it five minutes ago.”

She shook her head. “I can resend it, but I'd really like to talk to you about another piece I have planned.”

There was silence and the sound of keys clacking on the computer at the other end. Great, she thought, he's not paying attention to me. She heard the ringing of phones, some grumbling and finally- “Shoot. Go on, I haven't got all day.”

She readied herself for a hard sell. “You know how the big Jodo shrine is a tourist stop, right?” A grunt was the only answer. He definitely wasn't listening. Forcing herself, she went on, “Since it's O-bon, I thought I could check out how they celebrate it here and write up a thing for anyone interested in touring the other shrines. Maybe you could use it next summer?” He was quiet and she was certain it would be shot down. She didn't pitch many stories; they usually were assigned to her often without much direction except 'make it interesting to read.'

“Huh. You starting on it soon?” It was her turn to be quiet. Did he just accept it?

“Oh, uh yeah. I'm going tonight, but just to the local one.” She stood up and did a very quiet happy dance while keys clicked on the other end of the line.

“Right.” He switched to accented English before saying, “Come by and get Deb this afternoon. She's nearly useless, but she'll do.” His tone implied an amused irritation that meant the woman in question was in the room with him. Chihiro didn't want to question him, but he was giving her one of his best photographers at the drop of a hat?

“Thank you Mr. Yamaguchi! You won't--”

“Yeah, now get back to work! I want those files yesterday!”

Chihiro smiled as she hung up the dead line and started her day's work.

Later, with the sun nearly blinding her as she took a turn on the drive back to the North Shore, Chihiro smiled politely at her passenger. “You can smoke in my car if you like.” She hated cigarettes, but wanted the photographer to be comfortable. She'd seen Deb fishing through her big black purse and the pack stuck out. Now the blond smiled a relieved grin and settled back against the seat. In Japan, smoking was still the norm, but here it was forbidden in most places and smokers were often treated rudely.

“Thanks, but I'm good for now. This is outdoors, right?”

“Mostly. We should get some inside shots. The temples are at their best for the festival.” Chihiro slowed as they neared the turnoff for Hale'iwa. It was still country up here, but developments were sprouting up on land that used to be agricultural. They looked so out of place, even the architecture used made them stand out as foreign. She looked over at Deb as the woman's leathery fingers twitched to her purse again. She was an older woman, a photojournalist who had worked all over the globe before settling in the islands. Now she seemed to do freelance jobs for these little publishers and Chihiro was dying to ask her why. Maybe she'd get a chance to work it into conversation tonight, but maybe not. In the past, Deb was all business and pretty edgy to be around. Nicotine withdrawl aside, she seemed mellower. Maybe it was just the air out here, but everyone was more laid back on this side of the island. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Deb looked out the window. What did the world look like to someone accustomed to seeing it through a lens, she wondered.

Soon the photographer had her camera out and around her neck, although she made no move to take a picture. Chihiro almost asked if she wanted her to pull over, but the nervousness over this woman's harsh professionalism had returned. They drove in silence out to the side road leading to the temple. The thrum of drums blanketed the community as the sun hung low in the sky. Cars were parked almost clear out to Kamehameha Highway and were all along the sides of the street, some parked at odd angles suggesting a very loose concept of parallel parking. Chihiro was grateful for having a small car as she backed into a tight spot a few blocks away. She really could've parked on her own street and walked, but this would do.

Deb cleared her throat, even as she reached for her purse and liberated a cigarette. “Alright, here's what we're going to do,” her voice was low pitched, but carried fine. “I'll shoot anything that looks good until you give me the word. Then we'll focus on your list and we can get out of there. Does that sound about right?”

Chihiro's spirits started to fall. She didn't have a list, although she had some ideas, and she certainly wasn't thinking of this like a military surgical strike. “Ahhhhh. Hm. Yes...” She almost said it would be fine, but somewhere a spark stirred within her. “Yes,” she repeated. “But we will need to be flexible. I may get some interviews to use and I'd like to get the feel of this place before we leave.” There! She'd stood her ground and she felt like a weight lifting as the woman raised her eyebrows at her. “Plus, it'll be fun!” She smiled at the woman and was surprised when, through a cloud of smoke, the woman smiled back at her.

“I could use a little fun. How about you let me know when I'm off the clock, and I'll stay out of your hair until you're ready to go?”

“Deal,” Chihiro said cheerfully. “Do you need me to carry anything?” More people were walking up the street now and she heard the beautiful sound of a shakuhachi cutting through the drums with a rhythmic melody. It was all she could do not to run toward the temple. Instead she took a small bag of lighting equipment and followed the older woman at a respectable pace.

oooo0000OOOO0000oooo

A/N: Hawai'i, despite being part of the United States, has a rich history and culture all its own. Language is one of my passions and the characters slip in and out of various languages and pidgin (the creole language developed over the past few centuries and currently accepted as a de facto language, not to be confused with Hawaiian or English). Since I'm writing in English, the honorifics are translated. Instead of Yamaguchi-san, for example, it's Mr. Yamaguchi and Ogino-kun becomes Young Miss Ogino. I'll try to keep it clear, but please help me out by reviewing. Here are some helpful notes:

Names are flipped about in the Western order.

Rumi: a friend of Chihiro who gives her a going away present, a bouquet of flowers she's holding as the anime, Spirited Away begins. Also the name of the voice actor for Chihiro in the Japanese language version (Hiiragi Rumi).

NHK: Japanese government's official news coporation.

Shakuhachi: Bamboo flute with four holes in front and one in back.

Hale'iwa Kyokaido: The old name for the Hale'iwa Jodo Mission (a real place fictionalized for this story)

O-Bon: A Buddhist festival of the dead. In Japan, spirits are said to be moved by the beauty of the countryside in the summer and return from the mountains to help with the crops before being guided back to the spirit world via lit lanterns on the water. In Japan, the festival is usually just a few days at the end of the period in August, but in Hawai'i, it stretches between July and August.

Aloha kakahiaka: Good Morning. (Hawaiian)

No hu hu: Don't make a fuss. (pidgin)

Ono: Delicious, tasty. (Hawaiian)

Buddha head: Japanese people, sometimes just bald people, local slur but not that highly offensive. (pidgin)

Pau hana: Work's over. (Hawaiian)

Bumbai: By and by, eventually. (pidgin)

Auntie Linda: Governor Linda Lingle (Politician... sorry, couldn't resist)

Cane squatters: Generally hippy types who use homestead laws to try and gain lands not being used on the outside edges of cane fields. The law grants legal rights if you occupy land without protest of the legal owners for a period of time (7 years?).

Review reply to “I'm too lazy to sign in.”: I grew up on O'ahu, but have been gone now for far too long. Feel free to chide me where I screw up.