her mother would often stare at her father while he made his instruments, looking as though she were about to cry. Then one day, when Lana was given a ride back from Kali's house earlier than normal, she overheard them arguing.
"It's all you do, these days. Cure the tails, string the instruments, play the instruments, tune the instruments. You never pay any attention to me anymore. Me or Lana."
Kapa shrugged. "There's nothing else to do on this damn island, Lei! Not with these rains. And after they end, it'll be back to the same thing-catching fish, bringing them back, waking up early the next morning. Don't you think I wanted to do something more with my life? At least when I'm making these instruments, I feel like that. Just a little."
Leilani chewed her tongue. "How can you say that, Kapa? You are doing something with your life ... just like your father did and his father. You were born on this island, your life is on it. Do you hate it so much?"
Kapa looked at his wife and his expression softened. He walked over to her. "I don't hate it, Lei. But I don't want to waste my entire life here either. Since these rains came, since the mandagah have started dying ... I've been thinking that there's nothing left for us, anyway. I've been thinking ... I've been thinking that we should leave. I could sell my instruments on Essel. We could start a different life."
Leilani wrenched herself away from him. Lana had never seen her mother look so angry before.
"You expect me to abandon my home, my life, for some crazy dream you have of selling your instruments? How can we leave when things are like this? It would be running away."
"Fine. Let's run away, then! It would be like running away from nothing."
Lana couldn't stand hearing anymore. She pushed the door open all the way and stalked inside. Her parents stared at her, surprised.
"How ... how long have you been standing there, Lana?" Leilani asked.
Lana just shook her head and walked into her room. "Mama's right," she said finally. "I don't want to run away, either."
She pulled back the curtains and rolled out her sleeping mat.
"Why does everything have to change?" she whispered to herself as she sat shivering on the floor.
Three weeks later, the rains hadn't even paused. If anything, they had gotten stronger. Lana stared out her window, and barely registered the familiar wash of dread. The sun should have begun drying up her island by now. The houses, though designed for floods, wouldn't be able to hold up much longer in this kind of deluge. What if the rains never stopped and her island remained flooded forever? Okilani was right-something was happening. Something to do with the water spirit, maybe, but what?
It was Kali's birthday. Lana had promised to visit, but she wondered how her parents would feel about her leaving in this kind of rain. The water had gotten too deep and choppy for all but the largest barges to work, but her family owned a small canoe that ought to get her there.
She walked into the main room, and her father glanced up from his instrument.
"You're not planning on going somewhere, are you?" he said.
"It's Kali's birthday. I promised I'd visit."
"How are you going to get there? Swimming?"
"That little boat of ours."
He frowned, then shrugged. "Just don't tell your mother. She'll be upset."
Lana glanced at the kitchen where her mother was cooking. "All right. I'll be back soon."
She tied her sandals and then put on her cloak. The boat was perched on the roof, tied down with rope that her father had fastened when the rains first started. She scrambled up the side of the house, almost slipping several times. The wood was soaked and slippery. The waterlogged knots were impossible to untie, so she reached into the pocket of her leibo and pulled out a small knife that she kept for diving emergencies. She cut one of the ropes and then let the boat slide off the roof and into the water. Then she positioned herself right above the tethered boat and