AIRBNBSURVIVE SHORT STORY COMPETITION WINNER ANNOUNCEMENT
CONGRATULATIONS PHYLLIS BRANDANO !!
STORY : SURVIVING PARADISE
SETTING: HAWAII
Congratulations to Our Short Story Competition Winner, Phyllis Brandano .
If you ask most travelers what comes to mind when they hear the word Hawaii, they’ll probably say something like, “Oh, we love Hawaii,” or “It’s one of our favorite places,” or “It’s a tropical paradise.” In truth, I thought the same thing. But just like life, some experiences have a way of changing your perspective.
My husband, Jim and I made it to Hawaii during the summer of 2000. We'd saved on previous vacations by using our timeshare weeks because many people who'd been there said Hawaii was expensive and in order to splurge on this kind of trip you needed to plan ahead.
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So for a few years we visited some of our favorite places like Sedona an Banff because we knew how to get around cheaply.We put extra money away every chance we could until finally we'd saved enough.Since I was a teacher back then, I could only travel during certain months of the year so when the time actually came, we booked our stay for July, packed everything we needed and headed to the Hawaiian islands.
When we arrived at our rented condominium on KaanapaliBeach, we noticed a series of white flyers posted on the doors of every unit.The flyers said they were expecting a tropical storm and if residents wouldn't mind, could they please bring the patio furniture inside to prevent damage.We looked around and although the trees blew some, the sky remained clear and full of wispy clouds.Nevertheless, we brought the table and chairs inside, changed into our beachwear and headed out to look around.
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The sights, sounds and smells on the Maui beach were invigorating.We sampled specialties like grilled shrimp, fish tacos and ice cold mai tais and after relaxing for a time brought our towels to sit by the shoreline.It wasn't long before the temperature baked through us and we headed for the water.Splashing up to our knees, we felt like teenagers.The sun was warm, the air coolly floated by us, we were living the dream.
All of a sudden, Jim gripped my hand tightly and shouted, “Don’t let go, no matter what.” A giant wave hung in the air behind him. Within seconds, the water slammed into us forcing our hands apart. Jim was carried away from shore and I was thrown forward. The force of the salt water crashing into the sand spun me around like a break dancer. Eventually, the water receded and Jim found his way back to me.
“I’m so sorry, Honey,” he said. “Are you okay? I tried to hold on but the force was too strong.”
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I told him not to worry but the pain radiating from my thigh was immense. When I stood, deep bruises were beginning to form in a purple pattern along the top of my leg. I was hurt and hugely embarrassed. Jim wrapped a towel around me, grabbed our belongings and helped me back to the unit. We stayed in for the rest of the evening just trying to get the vision of the wave’s height out of our heads.
The next day, Jim made me smile by saying, “Another trip to the beach?” I laughed for the first time that morning. We decided to sit safely by the pool, enjoy the sun and read. Stretching on a lounge chair, I waited while Jim went for drinks. After he left, a woman came over to me, looked at my leg and whispered, “Honey, did your husband do that to you? There are places you can get help.” I assured her that wasn’t the case and relayed my collision with the wave. I’m not sure she believed me but she moved on and when Jim returned, I told him of our conversation. We hugged each other grateful for having the kind of relationship where that didn’t happen. We knew others less fortunate.
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The next day we drove to Haleakala Crater. The park, known for its miles of trails among valleys and desert landscapes, was a unique place to explore. Being a nature photographer, Jim liked to capture images from perspectives others might not see. Even though my leg was sore, I refused to give up on seeing the beauty. We chose trails that kept our footing on mostly flat ground with only a slight incline. We found the Sliding Sands and Haleakala Crater Trails to be best for us. Setting up our equipment, we spent hours photographing the volcanic mounds of red and brown cinder cones that covered the crater. We felt like astronauts traversing the surface of the moon and didn’t mind when our boots and clothing kept patches of color as specimens.
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Eventually, it was time to leave. Information shared by other hikers reminded us that even more time was needed going back up the crater than coming down. Since the steep grade and thin air can influence breathing and balance, we were instructed to move slowly. Although I thought I was in fairly good shape, the trek deceived me and soon the weight of the tripod, camera and distance let me feeling sluggish and weak. Coming to the top of the hill near the parking lot, I misjudged the edge of the crater, fell into the jagged rock and scraped my shin.
I stayed on the ground for a moment. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Now I had two injuries, one on each leg. The surroundings were beautiful no doubt but was it worth bodily harm? I knew this one wasn’t Mother Nature’s fault though, I was unprepared. I should have paid more attention to how I was feeling and stopped more often. When Jim helped me up, he looked at the scrape marks and said, “Are we having fun yet?”
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When we got back to the condo, we iced my shin. The scrapes were mild compared to the black and blues on my thigh but it still hurt. We decided I should rest for a few days and do nothing strenuous because our next journey was the highly anticipated Road to Hana trip. Jim and I stayed close to Kaanapali, shopped, ate tremendous food and relaxed. The days settled into a quiet calmness and for the first time, we understood the warmth and appeal of the island culture. We couldn’t wait to put the injuries behind us and move on.
The next day’s weather was lovely. The mild temperatures and slight breezes lifted our spirits. Listening to the audio tape we brought as a guide, we stopped along the Road to Hana every time we saw color or heard water. We captured intimate portraits of flowers like red gingers and gently trickling waterfalls surrounded by lush foliage. There was an abundance of nature in every direction. Taking extra time, we visited the more touristy spots like Black Sand Brach and Wailua Falls and captured action shots of couples jumping in the water and young children playing in the sand.
Continuing on, we stopped for a light snack when we saw a vendor selling bread fruit. You know you’re on vacation when you try eating something from a stranger on the side of the road. The homemade grill was a metal barrel sliced in half with a lid. The old man standing behind it greeted us warmly, his skin weathered by years of sun. As he handed us his food he said proudly, “Enjoy.@ And we certainly did.
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By the time we were ready for lunch, we found a small stand in Hana Center. Local delicacies were offered in styrofoam containers filled with rice, macaroni salad and grilled fish. The feast was delicious, authentic and exactly the kind of meal we were hoping to find in the ‘real’ Hawaii.
It was getting late so we decided to head back. On the way, we came to a cliff overlooking the ocean where a group of horses were feeding on wild grass. We pulled into a nearby parking lot to take a few pictures and before leaving, decided to get some supplies at the Hasegawa General Store. As soon as I got back in the car, I started yelling like I was on fire. I began slapping my shirt wildly because unbeknownst to Jim, I was getting stung repeatedly by a bee. I jumped out of the car and flipped my shirt up and down until the insect finally flew out.
Jim and I couldn’t help it, we just started laughing. There was no way in the world anyone would believe these things could happen to one person on one trip. We’d traveled extensively in the states and a few countries in Europe and although there were a certain amount of difficulties most travelers face, the majority were uneventful. This was not the case while in Hawaii.
By the time we reached the condo, the burning sensation on my shoulder had lessened. I took a few more cubes from the freezer, covered the welt and soon was feeling better. After showering and changing our clothes, we booked a reservation for dinner on the beach. We reminisced about the stunning images we took in Hana, the new foods we tried and my bizarre encounter with a Hawaiian bee.
When dinner was over, we sipped cocktails and watched as the sky turned bright orange, yellow and red. We marveled at how the light reflected off the waves as they coasted gently into shore acting nothing like the power that caused my sand dance. As the sky grew dark, we walked the beach listening to the conch shells serenading the daylight goodbye.
During our remaining time in Maui, we stayed well. We spent most of our time finding photographic gems like the windsurfers on Ho’opika Beach, the towering mountains of the Iao Valley and the outrigger canoes paddling across the horizon. Since photography gets us up early and keeps us out late, we find the best way to reward ourselves is discovering local restaurants with atmosphere. We found Mama’s Fish House, Pacific’O and the Sansei Restaurants delightful culinary treasures.
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Getting ready for home, we thought about all the things that happened. From the moment we arrived, the beauty of Hawaii overwhelmed us. The natural environment with its lush green landscape and crystal blue waters was breathtaking. The varieties of food, activities and hospitality made us feel welcomed.
But we also discovered that like any paradise, there are dangers. Whether it’s unpredictability of nature, rugged terrain or unforeseen creatures, it’s best to be on guard. You can certainly enjoy wherever you travel but you must pay attention to your surroundings.
This couldn’t have been clearer even as our plane landed home. After the pilot turned off the seatbelt sign telling passengers it was safe to disembark, the gentleman seated next to me stood up. I waited for him to step out into the aisle and I followed. While removing his luggage from the overhead compartment, he lost control of it and dropped it on my foot. Jim and I burst out laughing.
The man couldn’t understand what was so funny. He felt badly about what happened and hoped I wasn’t hurt but Jim and I reassured him it was nothing. And it wasn’t. It just served to remind me that someone’s cosmic sense of humor was still ongoing and I’d better pay attention even in my own backyard.
Now when someone mentions traveling to Hawaii, I refrain from voicing an opinion. If asked directly if I’ve ever been, I smile and say I have. Now most people wait for further details. They stand or sit quietly hoping I’ll delight them with tales of fabulous food, gorgeous scenery and striking sunsets. But I don’t engage. I hold my memories close so as not to spoil their preconceptions.
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But I do have wonderful memories. Jim and I shared some unique experiences on this trip that I will always cherish. But I also have a memory of great pain. Sometimes, when I run my hand along my thigh to scratch an itch, I feel the impact of the sand grinding into my skin. It probably will never go away. But then I think, isn’t that true for most things? Don’t we remember the pain we felt when something happened? Isn’t that how we learn? So now if someone asks, “What do you remember most about Hawaii?, I can say, “I survived paradise and it taught me a valuable lesson.”
Written by Phyllis Brandano
Autobiography of Author
I grew up in Melrose, Massachusetts. As a kid, I spent most of my time outdoors because our home was surrounded by forests, ponds and mountains. The beauty I saw every day made me want to capture those creations on film then write about what I saw and felt in journals. My collection of images and writings grew from those experiences.
When I graduated from high school, I became a teacher. My students would often see me taking pictures of our activities and later, I’d encouraged them to share their own stories. Eventually, I became a principal and traveled extensively where my love of photography and writing took its permanent hold.
I’ve now retired to Florida and live with my husband, Jim, a professional photographer. We’ve been married for thirty-three years and enjoy meeting new people and seeing wondrous locations that we can share with others.