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“Yes,” Twanow informs me when I eye the rows of chunky slip-ons dubiously. “They will protect your feet from the prickly beach—”
“There’s such a thing as a prickly beach?”
“Atolls are formed from a ring of coral creating a barrier reef on top of a sinking volcanic island. In other words, the white sandy beaches will be peppered with washed-up coral, volcanic rock, and seashells. Not to mention all the crabs underfoot. Flip-flops are too flimsy, while sneakers will never dry out in the humidity. Hence, Crocs. Trust me on this.”
I have no choice but to trust her, though it doesn’t make me feel great about things.
T-shirt purchase I can handle. Same with sports bras and new and improved lightweight pajamas—basically men’s boxers with a tank top. For nearly a decade, I slept in one of Paul’s T-shirts. Maybe some of this will be good for me, after all.
Twanow is all hustle and bustle, credit card at the ready. Again, not something I love—a key piece of my job is to remain independent. But as a woman whose only paying gig is part-time bartending, I can’t afford to argue.
Especially once she spies my flip phone. “What the hell is that?”
“My phone.”
“That’s not a phone; that’s a historic relic. No wonder you’re so hard to find. You truly are a Luddite.”
I take immediate offense. “I’m not a Luddite. I’m of limited means. There’s a difference.”
“You mean to tell me when you’re living in housing projects, everyone else has a flip phone like you?”
Her look is pointed. I don’t take the bait. No matter where I live or what I do, everyone’s phones are better than mine. Possibly I’m a Luddite after all, though I swear I know how to Google just fine. The limited times I’m at an internet café.
“Prepaid, correct?” She stares at me.
“Yes.”
“Fine, but you need a better model than that. This will be your only link to the outside world, got it?”
After Wyoming, I get it completely, so I don’t say a word as she upgrades my TracFone with a smart phone model I’d never buy on my own. She also adds a monster data plan, like an entire year’s worth of activity in my cost-conscious world. I enter in my entire contacts list—about eight names, including one for a Boston detective I keep meaning to delete, but never do. To test out my new and improved appendage, Twanow forwards me my digital airline ticket. Opening it on my screen feels pretty slick, like I’m finally seated at the adults’ table.
When we’re done, I’m the proud owner of flip-flops, Crocs, and my old sneaks. Not to mention two bathing suits, two rash guards, one wide-brimmed hat, and a modest assortment of shirts and tops. Everything is some kind of microfiber that declares itself breathable and quick drying. At least my clothing will be able to handle the upcoming situation.
Of course, this leaves me with a pile of old clothes that no longer fit in my suitcase.
“Burn them,” is Twanow’s advice.
I stare at her till she agrees to store the clothing items. I stare at her harder, till she agrees not to burn them herself.
Then I’m as prepared as one can be prepared. An entire carry-on suitcase filled with tropical possibilities.
We climb back into her rental car. I fire up my new prepaid smart phone and start Googling “first time you fly.” As with so many things these days, there’s a YouTube video on how to navigate an airport, pass through security, and board a plane.
I watch it intensely four times through. Then we’re at the Austin airport and this is it. Two planes. One layover in LA. Then, roughly twelve hours from now, Honolulu. I feel slightly nauseated.
“This is a virtual number,” Twanow says, taking my brand-new phone, programming it in. “Call or text this, and it’ll find its way to me. Can’t risk dialing direct, in case they’re listening.”
I nod.
“Daily check-ins would be ideal, say four p.m. Hawaiian time, so I can determine what progress you’re making. But—”
“I won’t have that kind of reception.”
“Do what you can. Would be good to know you’re okay.”
I nod again, even though the final part of her statement is clearly an afterthought.
“Just be you,” she reiterates for the umpteenth time, “while keeping an eye out for Lea. That’s your goal. See her in person, establish basic contact, that’s it. In, out, gone.”
