Chapter 2
Peter Lane sat in the cab of his father’s pickup truck. His father, Tadeo Lane, a big burly man, sat silently behind the wheel. The truck was parked in the driveway of their home. It was close to 1 a.m. Peter glanced over his shoulder, staring at the twinkling lights down the hillside along the coastline of the Big Island of Hawaii. The Kailua-Kona coastline was many miles away from Waimea, but easily visible from this high on the mountainside. One thing Peter knew for certain was he wished he was somewhere else just like the tiny little lights down below.
His father breathed another heavy sigh and finally broke his silence. “I know that wasn’t you I picked up down there.” Peter curled his lip. He didn’t want to answer. “I know that’s not you gettin’ mixed up in that stuff. It’s the other boys.”
“They are just my friends, Dad,” Peter finally said.
“Well, they are not good friends,” his father answered right away. “Good friends don’t get you involved in drugs.”
“I told you, I never took anything,” Peter protested.
“Regardless. Good friends don’t take you to meth labs and then leave you holdin’ the bag when the heat comes on. No, good friends don’t get involved in anything like that.” Peter folded his arms and took in a deep breath. He didn’t want to have this conversation any more.
“Pika,” his father said softly. “Pika, listen to me. I know it’s different now. It’s not like it was on the island when your mom and I were growing up. I know it’s hard. All I want to do is help you. You’re my son. But what can we do when I get a call to come pick you up at the juvenile detention center? That you been busted for running a meth lab?”
“I wasn’t running it! You just said you knew it wasn’t me,” Peter countered. “It wasn’t my idea, I didn’t want to be there.” His voice began to crack a little. He felt terrible for being involved even though he really didn’t want to be. “You’re just going to send me away.”
“Son, what other choice do we have? You’ll end up right back in this mess again. I don’t want that for you. Your mother doesn’t want that for you.”
Peter opened the door and walked to the house. His father followed him into the house with a concerned look on his face. One light was still on. Peter knew his mom was in the kitchen waiting for them. She sat dressed in a robe with a forlorn expression on her face, sipping on a cup a coffee. A brochure sat on the kitchen table by her cup. Peter knew exactly what it was.
“Well?” she asked, her voice having that tone Peter never liked. “What was it this time? Are you on something right now?”
“Sara, please,” his father pleaded. “He’s not on anything. And it wasn’t his fault.”
“Tad, you are always defending him!” Sara bristled. “I don’t want that kind of thing in my house!”
“It’s just the wrong crowd he is in, you know that. They are a bad influence on him.”
Peter interjected, “I’m standing right here, don’t I get to say something?”
“What can you say, Pika?” his mother cried. “I’m sorry for getting arrested? It won’t happen again? I’ve heard it all before.”
“It wasn’t my fault!” Peter protested.
Just then his little sister Ana came wandering in rubbing her eyes. “What’s going on?”
“Get back to bed!” her mother commanded. Ana knew right away not to argue. The tone in her voice said it all. She immediately went back to her room.
“None of this meth stuff was my idea,” Peter continued. “Jeff’s the one that cooks and deals. I was against it the whole time. Then they screwed me over. Now you wanta board me up in some damn school on another island.” He plopped down in a chair across from his mom, thoroughly disgusted. “I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you.”
Sara fumed as she looked at Peter. She wanted to believe him. She had heard too much about what goes on in the houses that create the drug labs. She knew how tempting it was to get involved and make money off it. But she wanted to give her son the benefit of the doubt. She wanted to believe him.
“Peter,” she said, calming down, “we don’t want to send you away. But we think this will help you, get you away from these bad things in such a critical time in your life. All we want is the best for you and for Ana. It’s all we can do.”
“Locked up. On another island. Wonderful,” Peter griped.
His father sat down next to him. “Son, you know I went there. I was a boarder too. You’ll find it’s not what you think it is. And it will be good for you. And since I graduated from there, I think we can get you in. They don’t take many, but I feel we have a shot. And to be honest, I think you should take it. You won’t regret it.”
“But it’s my last year,” Peter said. “Everybody knows me here. I won’t know a soul at Lahainaluna. I’ll just be the weird kid who got shipped off for his senior year for being a meth junkie. They’re not gonna want me there.”
“You don’t know that, Pika,” his father said. “I was on the same slippery slope as you are when my parents sent me there. It was the best thing that ever happened to me. Trust me, you will be fine there. And besides, if I hadn’t messed up and got shipped off, I would have never met your mother. You wouldn’t even be here. And my life would have been a mess.” Sara smiled sweetly at him. It was a smooth move on his part. Might even get him lucky later on.
Peter stared at the brochure advertising the boarding school at Lahainaluna. He traced the outline of the red crest at the top of the page. “Since 1831 huh?” he said quietly. “Terrific.”
Sara put her hand on Peter’s arm. “You are a smart, charming, handsome young man. You are better than all this that’s going on around here. You can be the man you want to be. Just let us help you.”
“I’m sure I’d make a great pig farmer,” he said sarcastically.
“Don’t stare down your nose at the pigs, son. It’s not as bad you think,” his father assured him. “There are worse places to be if you’re a pig, ha ha.”
“Yeah, a nice vacation before the big luau, that’s for sure,” Peter chuckled. “Maybe they’ll put me in an imu after they’re done with me too.”
“No, that’s my job,” Sara laughed. Peter tried to smile. “Come here.” She hugged him tightly. She didn’t want to let him go. He didn’t want her to either. The fear and realization that he was going to be leaving home began to hit him and he began to sob in his mother’s arms.
“I’m sorry, Mama,” he sobbed. “I’m sorry.”
“I know. It’s going to be OK though. Just trust yourself.”
His father patted him on the back and directed him to go to bed. He smiled at his wife, still sitting at the table. He winked at her and offered his hand, “Your turn now, little lady.”
She didn’t hesitate and jumped to wrap her arms around his burly frame. “After you, big man.”