Chapter 9 Shopping Trip

Wednesday morning there was a knock at my door. I peeked out the kitchen window. A female uniformed police officer stood on my porch.

I cracked the door a few inches. “Yes?”

“Good morning ma’am,” she said. “I’m Officer Bautista. May I come in? I have a few questions.”

I held the door for her. A glance at Pearl’s condo told me they’d affixed yellow police tape across her door in the shape of an X.

“What’s this about?”

“You’re aware that your neighbor, Pearl Corvelli, was killed sometime early Monday morning,” said Officer Bautista.

I nodded. “I found the body.”

“We’re canvassing the neighbors to see if anyone saw or heard anything unusual Sunday night or early Monday morning. Can you think of anything at all that might shed light on what happened to her?”

“I’m sorry. I was asleep by nine that night. I’d been unpacking all day and was exhausted I slept very well and didn’t hear a thing. It wasn’t until I joined the ladies at the pool Monday morning …” 

I closed my eyes and pressed my hand to my mouth as the horrible image of Pearl’s dead body flooded my mind.

“Ms. Corvelli had a high level of pain killers and alcohol in her system when she was killed. Did she have a substance abuse problem?”

“I really wouldn’t know. I never even got a chance to meet her before … you know.”

Bautista nodded. She handed me a card. “If you think of anything, please call this number and speak to Detective Shiraishi.

***

 Ten a.m. found me on a rock-hard seat in the Catholic Charities van, wedged between Esther and the wall. The van created a deafening racket as it rattled pot-holed road.

“I’m glad I don’t have dentures,” I yelled in Esther’s ear. “They’d be jarred right out of my head.”

“Say what?” she shouted back.

The van made a hard right, jostling Esther against me, pinning me to the wall and cutting off my breath. Someone’s cane skittered down the aisle with a loud clatter.

We pulled to a stop in front of Foodland.

Esther managed to right herself and get her weight off me. I took some deep breaths.

With the help of the Polynesian driver—whose gender was dubious—our group managed to exit the van safely, a little worse for wear. While the driver unloaded Mae and Violet’s walkers, I took in the small, dilapidated shopping center. It must’ve been in this spot for well over half a century. Besides the grocery store, there was a Long’s drugstore, Starbucks, Jamba Juice, McDonald’s, Bank of Hawaii, a diner-type restaurant, and a beauty salon.

“Alright, Aunties,” the driver said. “You get ninety minutes for shop and den you bettah be back on da van. ’Kay?”

Coralee, Francesca, Sylvie, and Mae—pushing her walker—trooped into Foodland while Tiare, Violet, and Kaulana headed for Long’s, next door.

“Let’s go to Long’s first,” Esther told me. “I like to buy my groceries last, so the ice cream don’t melt.”

“Good thinking.”

We entered through an automatic glass door and found ourselves in a spacious, well-lit store. Tiare’s caftan swished and her cane tap tap tapped against the tile floor as she took off at a brisk pace toward the far end of the store. With a green plastic hand basket on the seat of her walker, Violet threw Esther and I a quick look before disappearing down one of the center aisles.

Kaulana rested her oversized purse in the basket of one of the store’s scooters. She took her time settling her rump on the seat and adjusting her long mu‘umu‘u around her legs before motoring down the nearest aisle.

“I don’t need a shopping cart—I’m not buying much,” Esther said to me. “But maybe you should take one to lean on. Unless you want a scooter …”

“A cart will do just fine.” I pulled one out and set my handbag in the kiddie seat. “You lead the way.”

We entered the first aisle just as Kaulana’s scooter made a right turn around the end of the row of shelves.

“They got everything here,” Esther said, “but the prices are a little higher than Walmart. The van takes us to Walmart once a month, so just get what you really need today.”

“Louise took me to Walmart when I moved into my condo,” I said. “I’m still pretty well stocked up, but it’ll be fun to take a look around.”

We turned into the next aisle and came upon Violet. As she reached for a box of blonde hair color, she took a furtive look around. When she saw us, her hand dropped back to her walker—guiltily, it seemed to me. As if she’d been caught at something. She did an about-face, and hurried away without the hair color. Could Violet be our resident kleptomaniac?

I waited till she was out of earshot, then whispered to Esther, “Was she trying to steal that hair color?”

“I don’t think Violet’s a thief. But she likes to brag about how she gets her hair done at some fancy salon—by a French guy named Maurice—when I know for a fact she colors it herself.”

That explained that.

I said, “I guess when you shop as a group, there are few secrets.”

 “We do our best to spread out and give each other privacy. But you’re right. By now I know who’s constipated, who wears dentures, who uses a personal lubricant, who’s got hemorrhoids and feminine itching, …”

She turned down an aisle that held an array of medical supplies. I was still trying to imagine which of the women might need personal lubricant—and for what—when Esther stopped in front of the incontinence products.

While she took her time studying the various packages of adult diapers, I slipped out the end of the aisle and into the next. 

When Esther caught up with me she was clutching a fat pack of Depends. Before I could avert my eyes and feign interest in something on the shelf, I noticed a big M on the side of Esther’s package.

She’d picked up medium diapers. Esther was not a medium-sized woman by anyone’s standards. She must’ve been distracted by my presence and took the wrong size. Should I point out her mistake and save her the further embarrassment of having to exchange them later, or pretend I hadn’t noticed at all?

While I enjoyed Esther’s company, I sorely wished I’d taken a cue from the other women and insisted on shopping alone.

“Can I just set this in your cart?” Esther asked.

My mouth worked but no sound came out. My panic no doubt showed in my eyes. There’s little I wouldn’t do for a friend like Esther, but I’d die before I let the other women see me with a package of Depends in my cart. From this day on, every time they looked at me they’d imagine me with a diaper under my clothes.

Esther laughed out loud at my dismay. “These aren’t for me.”

“Oh, no … I didn’t think … I didn’t mean to …”

“It’s okay. Really,” she said, continuing down the aisle with the diapers tucked under her arm. “A friend pays me to buy these for her because she don’t want nobody to know she needs ’em. Me, it don’t embarrass me one bit. I see peein’ as a natural function of the body God gave us. Ain’t no shame in that.”

“Why doesn’t your friend just have them delivered?”

“She says she don’t want her neighbors to see the UPS guy bringing big, plain brown boxes to her door on a regular basis. I mean, everybody knows what’s in those boxes, right?”

“Well, I suppose …”

“I make sure I bring them to her discretely, when no one’s lookin’.”

The next aisle held a display of Hawaiian knickknacks, macadamia nuts, Kona coffee, guava and lilikoi and jellies. Thankfully the subject of incontinence was dropped. I looked at greeting cards with lovely scenes of hula dancers, then sighed. I had no one to send such things to. I put a small jar of guava jelly in my cart and started to move on.

On second thought, I selected a card for my daughter and one for my grandson who was about to turn twenty-three. I’d write each of them a short letter about my new life in Hawai‘i—of course leaving out the part about discovering a dead body in the hot tub my first time at the pool.

I followed Esther to the checkstands, where Tiare and Violet each stood in separate lines. I saw that Violet had gone back for box of hair color, and felt bad for having invaded her privacy while she shopped.

Esther set a hand on my cart to hold me back. “Let’s wait here till they’ve paid for their shopping.

Violet stared straight ahead. Tiare looked over her shoulder and met Esther’s eye, giving her a quick nod before setting her basket on the conveyer belt. Could the Depends be for Tiare?

 

Chapter 8 Neighborhood Watch

“I just moved here from Manhattan,” I said, trying and failing to focus my gaze on the detective. Sylvie’s brownies were really doing a number on me. I needed to get home and into bed while I could still manage under my own power.

“Some of us got tired of the crime in our neighborhood and decided to do something about it,” I continued. “We had a meeting with the police and started a Neighborhood Watch group.”

Shiraishi nodded. “Neighborhood Watches are a great crime deterrent, and a big help to the police. Are you ladies interested in hearing more about it?”

Nods around the room.

“What would we have to do?” Coralee asked.

“If you folks decide to start a Neighborhood Watch group, the first thing you need to do is choose a team captain. Then I can have a police officer come and talk with you about the program. He’ll go over what sort of things to keep an eye out for when you make your rounds of the neighborhood. Normally you would make regular patrols, once or twice a week, to make your presence known.”

“We can do that,” Tiare said.

Francesca said, Yes. I luff to valk.”

The others murmured their assent.

“Looks like we’re in business, then,” Shiraishi said. He wrote in his notebook and tore off the page. “Here’s the contact officer for Neighborhood Watch. After you choose your team captain, give she can give him a call.”

“I vote for Lillian,” Tiare said.

Huh? I gaped at her, shaking my head.

“Yes, me too,” said Esther. “Lillian would be perfect.”

Shiraishi’s eyes met mine.

I’d blurted the suggestion without thinking. I certainly hadn’t thought these women would take it seriously, much less expect me to be team captain. The last thing I wanted was to be responsible for any group activity. I looked around the circle of women. Every eye was on me, the fear on their faces bordering on panic. One of their own had met a violent death just yards away from where we currently sat.

I could think of no way to refuse them. “Well …”

“Good,” Shiraishi said, handing me the piece of paper. “Work out a time that’s good for everyone, then give Officer Martin a call. He’ll come over with some brochures and paperwork, and tell you what you need to get started.

***

The trilling of my phone penetrated my deep sleep. I pulled myself to the edge of the bed, opened one eye, and peered over. My purse lay open on the floor beside the bed where I must’ve dropped it, the contents spilling out.

My phone trilled again. I answered it without checking the caller ID.

“Hello?” I mumbled groggily. My tongue was so dry it stuck to the roof of my mouth.

“Lillian?” said the voice on the other end of the phone. “Are you okay?”

I worked myself to a sitting position. My head throbbed. “Louise?” Louise is my step-daughter the mail carrier.

“Yes. Did I wake you?”

A glance at the window told me it had to be early evening. “That’s okay. I must’ve been asleep for hours.” Sylvie’s brownies must’ve knocked me out.

“I’m sorry—”

“No. Really. I need to get up and make dinner.” Or a strong pot of tea.

“I just wanted to ask how everything’s going in your new place.”

I let out a loud sigh.

“That bad?”

 “Oh, you would not believe …”

“What’s wrong?”

“Yesterday one of the residents here drowned in the hot tub.”

“Oh, no,” Louise whispered.

“Oh yes. I was the one who found her. I tried to help but … it was too late.”

“How awful. I’m so sorry.”

“That was bad enough, but it only gets worse.”

“Worse than someone drowning?”

“I’m afraid so. Today a police detective showed up while we were having sort of a memorial gathering for Pearl—the woman who drowned. They’d finished the autopsy. He told us she was murdered.”

“Oh my god. Who—?”

“They don’t know. It happened sometime in the middle of the night. This is a secure building. No one can come or go after ten p.m. without the manager letting them through. More than that, the pool area is locked at night. No one knows how the killer got in. Everyone’s scared.”

“Do you want to come stay with us for a few days?”

Louise shares a tiny one-bedroom, one-bath cottage with her boyfriend, plus a dog and a cat. When I first arrived on the island I spent a few nights on their couch, until all the formalities were taken care of and I could move into my new place. While I appreciated all the help she’d given me, it had been uncomfortably close quarters.

“I’ll be fine, but I do thank you for the offer.”

“You’re sure? It’s no problem.”

“I’m sure. We’re going to start up a Neighborhood Watch. It was my suggestion and, well, it seems they’ve elected me to head the group.”

“I’m proud of you for stepping up and doing something to help.

“It wasn’t my intention to volunteer, but I suppose it’s a way to get to know my neighbors better.

“What are they like—your new neighbors?”

“With only twelve units here, of course everyone knows everyone else. And everyone else’s business, it seems. Being the new kid on the block I’m at a bit of a disadvantage. But there are daily activities, besides the neighborhood patrols we’ll be setting up. I’m sure I’ll insinuate myself into the group quickly enough.”

“Have you made any friends?”

“One woman came over and introduced herself right away. Esther. She’s from New York—a  real hoot. She’s been helping me get oriented and giving me the heads up on all the characters who live here.”

“Characters, huh?”

“An understatement. It’s so different here from New York, where everyone keeps to themselves. After Pearl’s body was found, a police officer gathered all the residents in the clubhouse to take down our contact information. That’s when I was able to put faces together with names and unit numbers. I think a couple of them have a touch of dementia. Other than Esther, the women haven’t been particularly friendly to me. Though of course everyone’s in shock since one of them was murdered.”

“I can imagine.” She paused a moment. “I’d love to hear more. I’m off work Sunday—maybe I can stop by?”

I hesitated only because her offer took me by surprise.

“There must be things you can use help with,” she said. “Unpacking, shopping …”

“I’m all done unpacking, and the Catholic Charities van takes us to the shopping center every Wednesday. I’ll be going with them tomorrow. But please do stop by when you can. I’d love to see you.”

“How about lunchtime Sunday?”

“Any time works for me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Chapter 7 Missing Items and Murder

Sharing time ended. Food was efficiently removed from the fridge and loaded onto the bar, which served as a buffet table: a stack of tuna sandwiches made by Coralee, potato salad from Tiare, grilled German sausage and onions from Francesca, Mae’s edamame, brownies baked by Sylvie, and a lovely orange Bundt cake made by Kaulana. My cut-up fruit was received politely. Pearl’s death hadn’t dampened anyone’s appetite. The ladies dug in with gusto.

I took a bite of the brownie on my plate. It was rich and chewy.

“How’s the brownie, Lillian?” Sylvie asked.

I nodded and swallowed my mouthful before answering. “Really delicious. What’s your secret?”

“They’re baked with my signature butter.”

Giggles broke out around the room.

I sniffed my brownie. “You mean …?”

“Sylvie’s incredible edibles,” Mae said.

After one brownie, I felt no effect. I got up and  took another one.

 Conversation flowed around . A half hour and two brownies later, I was thoroughly sated. My ears began to ring. My eyelids drooped. Time to toddle off for my nap.

Dizziness washed over me as I stood. I grabbed the arm of the sofa for balance. My vision blurred and I closed my eyes.

You feeling okay, Lillian?” Tiare asked.

Before I could answer, two silhouettes—one stout and one thin—darkened the entrance. I let myself sink back onto the cushion as Romy ambled into the clubhouse.

The short, wiry Asian man with Romy was about fifty, dressed in an aloha shirt, black slacks, and thick-soled black shoes that looked like they’d be good for running. The men ducked as the giant moth fluttered over their heads and escaped into the sunlight.

“Whoa, what was that?” the Asian man asked, looking after the moth.

“Looked like a big moth,” Romy said.

Sylvie said, “That was Pearl.”

Romy pulled up a barstool. “Ladies, this gentleman would like to have a word with you.”

“First, come make one plate,” Kaulana said.

Romy said, “Thanks. I already ate.”

“Me too, “ said the Asian man.

“Have a brownie—” Sylvie started.

“No!” several of the women shouted. They all gave Sylvie scathing glares.

Violet jumped up. “The brownies are terrible. Here, I’ll slice you boys each a piece of cake,” she said.

“None for me,” the Asian man said. “Really.”

“Have a seat, Detective,” Romy said.

“That’s okay.” The Asian man settled his hands on his hips, taking in the room’s décor. His gaze stopped on the large, dusty swordfish that had the misfortune of being the focal point of the wall behind the bar.

He turned to us. “Good morning, ladies. My name is Detective Thom Shiraishi. I’m sorry to interrupt you folks’ lunch, but this shouldn’t take long.”

“We’re just finishing up,” said Tiare, setting fork down and pushing her plate aside.

The other women followed suit.

Detective Shiraishi took the time to look at each of us in turn before speaking. “The medical examiner has completed the autopsy on your neighbor, Ms. Corvelli.” He paused.

“That was fast,” Esther said.

“So, how did she die?” Violet asked.

“The ME has determined that she died by drowning,” said the detective.

 “Drowning?” Francesca said softly.

“But how …?” Coralee asked, shaking her head. “She was such a good swimmer.”

Esther said, “The hot tub is so shallow.”

“Maybe she fell and hit her head,” Mae said.

Detective Shiraishi took his time answering. “Ms. Corvelli’s blood alcohol level was one point oh. She was legally drunk when she died. She also had significant levels of benzodiazepine in her body—commonly known as Valium.”

The women all gaped at him wordlessly.

“There’s more,” said Shiraishi. “She had significant bruising on her arms and chest, indicating a struggle.”

“You mean …” Kaulana said.

“It appears someone used a lot of force to hold her under water.”

A shudder went through me. This must explain how one of Pearl’s breasts got deflated.

Violet’s hand went to her throat. “Oh my God.”

Esther whispered, “Lord Jesus have mercy.”

“You’re saying she was … murdered?” Coralee asked.

“Her death has been ruled a homicide,” said Shiraishi. “Murder is for the court to decide.”

Homicide. The word sent a wave of terror through me. I’d come to the islands to live out whatever was left of my life in peace. I didn’t want to spend my remaining years looking over my shoulder every time I step outside, the way everyone instinctively does in New York City.

My mouth went dry—but maybe that was Sylvie’s brownies.

“How da killer wen’ get inside here?” Kaulana asked, her dark eyes huge. “Everyt’ing stay lock up nighttime.”

“We don’t know yet,” said Shiraishi.

Violet hugged herself. “There’ve been so many strange things happening around here lately, and now … this.”

Shiraishi’s head shot up. “What you mean?”

“Little things,” Coralee said. “Things going missing.”

“Such as?”

“The other day, my favorite slippers disappeared from outside my door,” said Violet. “I’d just bought them at Macy’s.”

“I had a beautiful crown flower tree in a ceramic pot by my door,” Tiare said. “Someone took it.”

“Anyone else had stuff stolen?” Shiraishi asked.

Esther spoke. “Like Corelee said, it was just little things. A book, a sweater …”

Sylvie’s hand shot up. “Me! My cat and her four kittens were stolen.”

“They were feral cats,” Tiari said. “They ran away. Cats do that.”

“No way.” Sylvie leaned across me to glare at Francesca. “I think someone killed them.”

Francesca returned her stare with a stony expression.

“Ladies.” Shiraishi patted the air. “Have you reported the thefts?”

“Last month when my hanging fern disappeared,” Esther said. “I told Romy.”

Shiraishi looked to Romy.

Romy said, “Some of the residents have reported things missing. A towel, an umbrella, a pair of sunglasses, gone from the pool area. Potted plants. Shoes left outside the door. Sylvie told me about her cats that had been living in a box under her front shrubs.”

“Anyone’s home been broken into?” Shiraishi asked.

Several women said, “No.”

“When I first moved into this neighborhood it was a safe place,” Tiare said. “We didn’t even lock our doors. Everything’s changed. First it was thefts, but now … it’s gone way beyond that.”

Tiare’s words hung in the air for a moment.

Mae said, “I’m scared.”

“I zink vee are all scared,” said Francesca.

Chapter 6 Kanikapila

Bright and early Tuesday morning I was sure I heard my cell phone chime, alerting me to an incoming text. 

I glanced around. Where was that blasted phone? The charger cord in the living room sat empty. I searched the bathroom, bedroom, and finally the kitchen. No phone. I sat at the kitchen table, cradled my head in my hands, and took a few deep breaths. Life was infinitely simpler back when phones were kept tethered to the wall.

I gathered the morning newspaper that lay scattered across the table, stood to put it in the recycle bin. And there was my phone, hidden beneath the Local & Business section.

The text was from Esther.

Kaulana says today kanikapila will be in honor of Pearl’s memory. Be there at 11. Potluck.

So Kaulana, the only neighbor I had  yet to meet, was back from Maui.

I’d seen kanikapila listed as one of Kon-Tiki’s weekly activities on the bulletin board near the mailboxes. When I asked Esther what it meant, she’d explained the Hawaiian word for merry-making and singing to the accompaniment of ukulele music. She included a strong warning that, by unwritten decree, attendance was mandatory. If I wanted to get along at Kon-Tiki Sands, she’d said, I’d best plan to show up on a regular basis.

I let out a long sigh, replied to Esther’s text with a thumbs-up emoji, and hit send. I didn’t play the ukulele and certainly wasn’t in the mood for merry-making. But I was the one who’d discovered Pearl’s body. I could hardly refuse to attend a gathering in her honor.

I opened my fridge and studied the sparse contents. I sure hadn’t planned on a potluck this morning. I pulled out a few strawberries and kiwi fruit, washed and sliced them, put them in a plastic container with a snap-on lid. Next shopping trip I’d have to keep the weekly potluck lunch in mind.

At ten-thirty I dressed casually in capris and a tank top, swiped on a touch of eyeliner and mascara. A dusting of blush over my cheekbones and a light shade of lipstick did little to brighten my pallid face. As soon as the police removed the crime scene tape from the pool area, I’d better get out there and sun myself—though I was pretty sure my first dip in the hot tub had also been my last.

Pushing that memory aside, I slipped on sunglasses, worked my feet into a pair of flip flops, and followed the walkway to the clubhouse at the far side of the building. Most of the ladies were already there, seated in a semi-circle on the battered sofas and chairs.

Though she had aged since her Facebook profile photo was taken, I recognized Kaulana immediately. A substantial woman, she struggled out of her chair with some difficulty, giving me a warm smile. Wide bare feet peeked out from under her tent-sized blue and white mu‘umu‘u. An array of fresh tropical flowers adorned her steel-colored hair that had been gathered at the back of her neck in an old fashioned bun. She approached me with outstretched hands. Her swollen, red-rimmed eyes met mine as she took my hands in hers.

I noticed tiny hearing aid wires protruding from her ears, as she said, “Aloha kakahiaka. I am Kaulana.” Her words carried a melodic lilt.

“I’m Lillian.”

“Yes, I know. I’m so glad you could join us, Lillian. Please, sit anywhere.”

The chairs were all taken. The only seats left were on either end of a sofa where Sylvie took up the middle cushion. After her strange behavior yesterday, I didn’t relish sitting beside her. The only other option was to drag over a bar stool, or one of the folding chairs at the poker table.

 Sylvie gave me a sweet smile and a wave, patting the cushion beside her. “Lillian! Here, sit by me.” She was dressed in a rose-print button-down blouse. Today her underpants were, presumably, on the inside of her pink capris where they belonged.

“Thanks,” I murmured. I sat, leaving as much distance as possible between her hip and mine, as if her ditziness might be contagious.

Kaulana said, “Lillian, have you met everyone?”

“I have.” I gave a quick smile to Francesca, Mae, Tiare, Violet, and Coralee. Where was Esther?

Arnie was also missing, but he might be exempt from the women’s activities. Possibly, as the only male, he just didn’t need to work as hard to stay in the good graces of the powers that be. Or, more likely, he forgot.

I contemplated the benefits of memory loss until Kaulana spoke, interrupting my thoughts.

“I know none of us are in the mood for singing,” she said. “But I feel it’s important we continue our Tuesday morning tradition. Pearl would want it that way. Today we will remember our sister, who was taken from us just yesterday.”

Kaulana extracted an ukulele from the woven bag resting against her chair. She strummed it, and the small instrument came alive in her hands.

Tiare joined in, vamping on another ukulele.

The ukuleles fell silent. Gazes turned toward the doorway behind me.

I looked over my shoulder to see a large form filling the entrance, silhouetted by bright sunlight.

“Sorry I’m late,” said Esther as she scurried in.

“Aloha, Esther,” Kaulana said in a strained voice. “E komo mai.”

“Hi. Good morning.” Esther glanced around the room. She spotted the empty seat on Sylvie’s other side. Her eyes caught mine and I met her relieved smile with one of my own.

Sylvie scooted closer to me to make room for Esther’s ample behind.

Kaulana strummed a few more notes, then sang in a loud, clear voice. “E ke Akua nani kamaha‘o/Nau no i hana ka honua nei …” The words were unfamiliar, but the melody was easily recognizable as How Great Thou Art.

Tiare joined in, her voice melding perfectly with Kaulana’s. They both must’ve sung professionally in their younger days.

Even though I’m Jewish, their heartfelt rendition of the Christian hymn touched something deep inside me. An ache filled my chest. Tears formed in my eyes and soon spilled over.

I swiped at my cheeks, then looked at my fingers. They came away smeared with black mascara. Why hadn’t I thought to bring a tissue?

By the time Kaulana and Tiare came to the end of the song, there wasn’t a dry eye in the room. Sylvie let loose with a series of gut-wrenching sobs. I reached over, took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Kaulana led two more songs in Hawaiian. Those who knew the words joined in, Tiare’s impressive voice rising above the others. While they sang, the biggest moth I’d ever seen flew into the room from outside. The women followed the black giant with their eyes as it flitted above us, but no one flinched even when it threatened to land on their heads.

Kaulana set her ukulele on the floor and rummaged in her bag for a tissue to dry her eyes.

The moth, with its seven-inch wingspread, settled on the kidney-shaped coffee table in the middle of our circle.

“Look,” said Sylvie. “It’s Pearl, come to visit us.”

 “Yes,” said Kaulana, smiling at the moth. “I believe it is. Let’s each say a few words about Pearl. Who would like to go first?”

A long moment passed. Finally, Esther spoke up. “Our sister Pearl lived large. I know that I, for one, admired her energy, her spunk, her zest for life. I pray that she is now resting in the loving arms of our Lord Jesus.”

“Amen,” Kaulana said.

More amens echoed around the room. A soft “Thank you Jesus,” came from someone on my right.

“How about you, Mae?” Kaulana asked.

The Japanese woman clasped her hands. Today she wore a purple knee-length mu‘umu‘u with large frills around the neckline and sleeves. She glanced at the others hesitantly. Finally, she said, “Pearl was such a physically beautiful lady. She always wore pretty clothes.” Mae tugged on her straight black hair. “I wish I had hair like hers.”

“Thank you, Mae,” Kaulana said. “Coralee?”

“Pearl had a lot of energy and worked hard at keeping her body in shape,” said Coralee. “I think we can all take something away from that.”

The women all nodded.

“Vee-o-lette?” Kaulana said.

Violet had gelled her platinum hair into spikes. Her black silk tank top and leopard print leggings clung to her bony frame, making her appear anorexic. “I knew from the day Pearl moved in that she and I had little in common, she said. “But I made a point of inviting her over for a drink and offered her some of my books to read. She accepted the drink but not the books.” Violet paused, her over-sized hoop earrings swinging as she shook her head. “Her line dance classes were one of the highlights of my week. I’m sorry she’s gone.”

“Tiare?” Kaulana said.

Tiare sat straighter, lifting her regal chin. “I appreciated the way Pearl wasted no time making herself part of the group when she moved in.” She directed her gaze my way for a moment. “I think we all enjoyed her line dance classes.”

More nods.

Kaulana said, “Francesca, would you like to say something?”

Francesca was dressed in olive green cargo shorts and a striped polo shirt. She wore no makeup or jewelry. She gave a few slow nods before speaking in a guttural German accent. “I zink Pearl iss very schtronk voman. Ja. It vill be much too quiet around here now she iss gone.”

Kaulana said, “How ’bout you, Sylvie.”

Sylvie leaned forward. “Yes?”

“How would you like to remember Pearl?”

“Did you know I bought Pearl that lovely pink bathrobe she was wearing yesterday in the hot tub?” Sylvie asked without a hint of sadness. “I got it on sale at Ross and gave it to her on her birthday. Pearl always looks so pretty in pink. Pretty in Pink.” She giggled. “Have you seen the movie with that cute red-haired actress, Molly-What’s-Her-Name? Pearl has red hair too…I help her dye it…let’s see, what is the name of the color she uses? Hmm … I think it was Lady Clairol—no, L’Oreal … Red Penny … though pennies aren’t red, are they? Or was it Ginger Twist?—”

“Thank you for those memories, Sylvie,” Kaulana said loud enough to cut off Sylvie’s rambling. “And you, Lillian. I know you didn’t know Pearl for long, but would you like to add something?”

I swiped at the mascara-stained tears on my cheeks. “Actually, I never had the chance to meet Pearl before she … passed. After hearing all of you speak so fondly of her, I’m sorry I never had the pleasure—”

Did I hear a soft snort? I looked around but couldn’t tell who’d done it. It occurred to me that as the women had spoken about Pearl, not one of them had actually said they’d liked her.