Elevator Pitch: Irish, Streak and Frost on a family Hawaiian vacation before starting high school, wake up in a grass hut on the beach 1,000 years in the past. To return from this world of ancient Kauai mythology, they must survive a series of fantastic adventures and then win the ultimate battle against Abaddon, the most evil being in existence, or remain forever in this Otherworld. The trail dropped several hundred feet in a series of switchbacks to a torrent of white-water, roaring out of the jungle on our left, through a narrow rocky canyon, past a huge boulder on the opposite bank and into the ocean. There was no bridge across. “It’s impossible,” I said. Streak cocked his head then said with a smirk, “No problem. We turn back, cancel the hike to Hanakapiai Falls and I win my bet. I can use five bucks.” My best friend, Streak, my cousin, Frost, and I had just hiked two miles over rocky outcroppings and through mud-sucking puddles. I laughed. “Who said anything about turning back? I was giving you an out.” Frost said, “I’m getting bored listening to you two lock antlers.” “Let’s go down and check out the crossing. You guys with me?” I sounded braver than I felt, but I didn’t want Streak to think I was a wimp. We had a bet I wouldn’t make it to Hanakapiai Falls. “I’m ready,” Streak answered. We were the same age, but he was a head taller than me, even without his dad’s green beret. Frost said, “I’m coming,” but she sounded doubtful. She was a last minute addition to our two-week family vacation right before we all start high school. Her parents had farmed her out as part of their trial separation. “You don’t have to do this,” I said.
She hitched up her backpack and narrowed her eyes. “If you can do it, I can do it.” “Okay.” I started down the steep path. Hanakapiai beach, below us, was the first stop for backpackers on Kauai’s elevenmile trail along the Na Pali coast, the toughest hike on all the Hawaiian Islands. It followed the cliff lines, dropping inland and down into stifling humid canyons through dense leafy tunnels and then up and out to the edge of a moonscape. One side of the trail was a steep rocky slope rising to a plateau and the other side an 800-foot drop to the rocky surf below. A light rain started to fall. Slippery exposed rocks slowed me down. At the bottom, the roar of the stream was deafening. I shouted, “It’s only three hops across, about ten feet total.” Streak jiggled a rope strung across the stream. “We can use this life-line. Just let it slide through your hand when you jump then hold on when you land.” “Will it hold us?” Frost asked, her voice faltering. “One at a time should be okay,” I said, but I wasn’t all that sure. Mom and Dad had agreed to let us hike the two miles to the stream and return before dark. The additional two-mile hike to the waterfall was our idea, one they wouldn’t have approved. The rope drooped across the river just above my head. I put my weight on the rope and it held. I handed my daypack to Streak. “I’ll go first,” I said, gritting my teeth. “After Frost crosses, throw the daypacks to me.”
If I fell in, I’d be smashed against the rocks and swept out to sea. I didn’t want to die. The rain let up, but the rocks were still wet and slippery. I held the rope and let it slide through my hand as I jumped to the first rock. I teetered then caught my balance. Rushing water frothed white all around me. The next rock was smaller and wet. I steeled myself, crouched and jumped. I landed on both feet, but my right foot slipped into the river. Cold water filled my boot and pulled my leg into the stream. I fought the drag. In a single motion, I heaved my right leg out of the stream and jumped to a patch of submerged gravel on the opposite bank. My heart was racing. A dozen campers had gathered to watch from the top of the huge boulder and from the sloping sand next to it. Frost started across. She got to the first rock and stopped, balancing there. “That small rock is too far for me to reach.” There was panic in her voice. From my spot in shallow water, I waved her on. “C’mon. You can do it.” She took a breath and hopped with both feet onto the little rock, but she was off balance and spun around, hanging from the rope downstream with her boots on the smaller rock. I leaned out, but couldn’t reach her. I grabbed hold of the rope and made eye contact with Streak. “Let’s pull her up together using the rope,” I yelled. “Frost. Get ready. One-two-three.” Streak and I jerked the rope upstream together. Frost rotated up and regained her balance on the small rock. The campers behind me cheered. She glanced up at them and grinned. I reached out. “Take my hand.” As she jumped, I pulled and she splashed into the water next to me. I yelled, “Streak, throw me the packs.” I caught them one at a time and set them on the dry rocks behind me.
Streak said, “Watch this, dude,” and easily hopped across the two rocks. There were advantages to being a super jock. With our daypacks, we scrambled around the base of the boulder and up onto the sandy area. Some campers came over to congratulate us. Successfully crossing the stream meant we were cool. Afternoon sun broke through the overcast. Streak and I dug out snacks while Frost pulled out her smart phone. “There’s no service out here,” I said. “I’m checking time, Irish. It’s after three. We’re supposed to meet your dad at six. We won’t make it if we hike to the waterfall.” Streak said. “I came to see Hanakapiai Falls.” “It should only take three hours total,” I said. It was tight, but I wanted to see the waterfall too. “Let’s hurry.” “Wait a minute,” Frost said. “Time for sunscreen.” Our fair Kehoe Irish skin would sunburn under a 100-watt light bulb. We started up the trail, Streak in the lead, me at the end. Easy at first, the trail got more dense and tangled with underbrush as we went. In open areas, we had to rock hop and climb around slippery boulders. We clambered through a bamboo forest that clattered like a wind chime as we pushed through it. “It’s hard to tell where to go,” Streak said. “The trail is overgrown.” “Follow the stream,” I said. We quickly lost sight of Streak. He hollered back, “I’m switching to the east side.” We heard him stomp down branches, as he bushwhacked his way along the other side of the stream, which was smaller now. “It can’t be much farther,” he grumbled.
Frost said, “I think I hear the waterfall.” Minutes later, we burst out of the jungle into a fantastic natural panorama. Water plummeted 400 feet down a shear rock wall into a wide, crystal clear pool of water in front of us. “Wow!” I said. “It’s beautiful,” Frost said. She had her smart phone out snapping pictures. “Hey!” I said, “Include us.” I put an arm around Streak and we posed with goofy grins, the waterfall behind us. She laughed and took the shot. Streak had a playful gleam in his eye. I said, “You’re not going to.” He nodded. “Oh, yeah.” Frost said, “It even looks too cold.” And she shivered. “This place is kinda spooky,” I said. Streak took off his boots, shorts and t-shirt and dove in wearing his boxers. He burst up through the surface. “It’s not cold. It’s great.” Frost looked up and yelled, “Look out!” A rock the size of a football plummeted toward Streak. He saw it, threw himself backwards, fanning his arms and legs. The rock missed him by inches. Streak was out of the pool in a flash. “That was too close.” Still dripping, he pulled on his clothes. “I’m out of here.” As I stepped away from the pool, a voice in my head said, “I brought you to this sacred pool to warn you. Abaddon has more power. Heed Kahuna Akalua’s warning.” I looked around, but there was no one near us.
Streak said, “What’s going on? You both froze with a dumb look on your face.” I looked at Frost. She nodded and said, “I heard it, too.” Streak glanced back and forth at us. “What?” I said, “A voice warned us that Aba-something, has more power. And we’re supposed to listen to a kahuna.” Streak frowned. “Why didn’t I hear anything?” I shrugged. “Maybe ‘cause you’re not a Kehoe.” “The voice said it brought us here.” Frost said. “Yeah,” I said, “I felt like I had to get to this waterfall. Streak acted that way, too. Maybe the voice put the bet in our heads.” Frost’s mouth made a firm line. “Okay, but who is this voice? And it’s pretty weird to have a voice from nowhere in your head.” I turned, cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled, “WHO ARE YOU?” We waited, but there was no answer. Frost looked at her phone. “It’s already after four.” I said, “Yeah. We have to hurry.”
The trip back to Hanakapiai beach was fast. We backtracked, crashing through the jungle, following our own trail of broken branches. We arrived at the beach campsites about five and there was a dark cloud overhead. “Looks like more rain coming,” I said. The two rocks we had used for stepping-stones were more exposed and partially dry. Like experts, we hopped back across the river, one at a time, without a mishap.
We climbed the steep cliff and started back on the trail. About ten minutes later, Streak said, “Check out that rain cloud.” “Maybe we can beat it,” I said and sped up, but it was no use. Streak said, “This isn’t rain. It’s a waterfall.” Frost whipped off her backpack and took out a poncho. “Where’d you get that?” I asked. “I stuffed it in my backpack after I read Kauai has the world record for rainfall, like 400-inches a year.” “You could’ve said something.” “I didn’t think you experienced adventurers needed advice.” “Maybe I should’ve let you fall in the stream,” I snapped. Rainwater was running down Streak’s face and mine, too. My feet squished in my boots with every step. “At least it’s not cold,” I said. “Man!” Streak said. “Who turned the lights off?” “That big cloud covered the moon,” I said. Frost said. “I can’t even see the path.” Streak said, “We could feel our way along.” “Too scary,” Frost said. “I’ve got a better idea.” She pulled out her smart phone and switched on its flashlight. “Hold hands and follow me.” We moved like snails, half bent over, creeping along, watching what we could see of the path. The surf raged against the rocks below like it wanted to destroy us. It seemed like hours passed. “Uh-oh.” Frost sighed. “My battery’s dying.”
“We gotta stop,” I said. “It’s too easy to slide off this trail.” Frost said, “We can’t just stay here.” “Fine,” Streak grumbled. “We can’t walk and we can’t stay. What do we do?” It was raining hard and I had no idea how far it was to the trailhead. “We have to crawl,” I said. Frost said, “Through the mud?” “Yep,” I said. “Through mud and over rocks.” “I’m not moving,” She said in a high-pitched voice. “I’ll wait here until it’s light.” “Cool it, Frost.” I cautiously moved past her and got down on my hands and knees. “We’ll have to keep talking so we don’t lose track of each other. Follow me.” Suddenly, a squeaky voice came from in front of us. “You don’t have to do that. Get up. I knew you three were going to be trouble.” Streak said, “I heard someone, but who’s crazy enough to be out here at night.” The squeaky voice said, “I’ll take you to the trailhead. I can see in the dark.” I said, “It’s pitch black. Why should we believe you can see?” “You are on your hands and knees. The girl with red hair behind you is standing. The boy with the silly green hat is standing behind her.” Streak growled, “It’s not a silly—” “Okay,” I said, “You can see us.” I stood up. “What’s the deal?” “It’s a trade. I help you and you return the favor in the future. You will owe me. Okay?” “No tricks.” Frost said. “Why would I trick you if you owed me a favor?”
“He makes sense.” I wondered what kind of favor he’d want, but this was not a good time to be picky. “I vote yes. What do you think, cuz?” “Yes. I want to get back to our beach house.” Streak chimed in, “And dinner.” I said to the voice in the dark, “It’s a deal. Take us out.” “First I need to be sure you’re the right ones,” the voice said. Streak bristled. “What do you mean the right ones?” “It’s just a formality,” the voice said. “Irish, Streak and Frost. Is that right?” “Yes. How do you know about us?” “Never mind,” the voice said. “Everything is in order for tomorrow. You can stand up and I’ll take the girl’s hand. Don’t be frightened, dear.” Frost said, “I’m not your dear.” “My, you’re a feisty bunch,” the voice said. “But that’s just what we need.” I said, “Why do you need us tomorrow?” “You’ll find out, all in good time, all in good time.” The voice drifted off. “His hand is really small,” Frost said. How did he know about us? What was going on? My mind churned through all the possible reasons this voice in the dark could be looking for us, but nothing made sense. This was a wild vacation. Like a trust walk, I held Frost’s free hand and Streak had mine. We didn’t move very fast because we concentrated on our feet and the trail. It was still too dark to see. In less than half an hour, we could see car headlights. With enough light to see by, Frost stopped short. “Wow! He’s tiny.”
A man the size of a toddler stood in front of Frost, wearing only a loincloth. He had a long gray beard, hair over his whole body and a potbelly, yet he had muscular arms like a weight lifter. He puffed himself up. “I am not tiny. I’m just small and maybe you’re too large. If you knew anything about Hawaii, you’d know I was a Menehune. And it just so happens that I’m the Menehune Chief.” I had a hunch he was an important person. “We didn’t mean to insult you,” I said. “Thanks for saving us.” “You’re welcome. Just remember to repay the favor when I ask. Now, I have work to do.” He started to leave, but stopped and turned around. “Almost forgot. Watch out for Abaddon. He’s evil and he’s after you three. The rock that fell into the pool was no accident. It was meant for one of you. Luckily he’s ineffective most of the time.” With that he turned and hobbled off, straight up the steep hillside toward the plateau above. “That’s one strange little dude,” Streak said. “I’ve finally seen a Menehune,” Frost said with a grin. “They only come out at night and they do—“ “Okay, Okay, but who is Abaddon?” Streak asked, frowning. Frost said, “I don’t know and I don’t care. We need to hurry back.” I expected to be grounded for life. Still, it was a great adventure, even with the totally weird things that happened. But I had a bad feeling about Abaddon. I said, “Let’s not mention the Menehune or the waterfall voice. My parents would be weirded out.” They agreed and we continued a short way to the trailhead. When we arrived, my dad was standing on the opposite side of the turnaround, with his rain gear on, talking to a Park Ranger. Mom and my kid sister, Kathy, were sitting inside our rented SUV. Mom
saw us first. She jumped out, ran up and wrapped her arms around me. “We were really worried.” Dad was suddenly next to us. “Are you kids all right?” “We’re fine; we’re just a little wet,” I said. “The waterfall you and mom told us about was fantastic, but the hike took a little longer than we thought. Sorry.” Mom said, “We’re just glad you’re safe.” “Ten more minutes,” Dad said, “and the Ranger heliocopter would have been out looking for you.” He looked at Streak and me. “You two boys are sopping wet. You know better than to go hiking without ponchos.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Frost smirk. Dad started back to the SUV. “Let’s get out of the rain and back to the house.” Our beach house rental at Haena Point was close to the trailhead, so we were there in minutes. At this end of a super long first day, we were really glad to get something to eat and crawl into bed. Frost had a room inside. Streak and I slept in a screened porch. I didn’t move an inch all night.
I woke with the morning light and stretched my leg muscles that were tight from all the hiking. The mattress felt hard. I ran my hand along the sheet, but it wasn’t a sheet. It was some kind of grass mat. I opened my eyes then sat bolted upright. I was in a hut on the beach. How did I get here?
Pdf Entry Information Exhibitor Name: Charles Markee WEN: D181B6 Division: FA - 351 - Genre Novelist First Ch Class: 01 Genre Novelist First Chapter Title: Otherworld Tales 3 Description: middle grade action adventure fantasy novel set in Hawaiian mythology
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