Neal - Freckled: a memoir of growing up wild in Hawaii

Mom reading to me in the van on Kauai

Mom, me, and Pop

Age: 4, Rocky Point, Oahu, 1969

Sand. Big yellow mountains of sand. So much, and a long way, a giant tabby cat napping in the sun. Moms holding my hand, and Im naked because were going swimming when we get to the bottom of the long wooden stairs leading away from our house.

I drop to my knees and dig into the big smooth grains, wriggling my body deep in to feel it all over, sinking in delicious warm because the sun is hot on my head. When I push my arms into the sand and they come up, my skin is the same color. My freckles look like the beach. This always makes me happy.

The sand feels different as the day changes. Morning, its gray, cool, and the air is blue. The mynah birds talk, and the ghost crabs are out running on skitter legs over the beach. The coconut tree next to my window makes a sound like clapping when the wind first comes up; its cheering that we have a new day. And when the day ends, the sand is orange, warm, and soft when we sit on it and watch the sun go down.

I love having no clothes on. I can feel everything better that way. I feel a shivery-good sensation in my legs. I come up out of the sand and walk out of the way by the naupaka bush and squat to pee.

You always do that, Mom says, and I laugh, because what else would I do when I get that feeling?

The ocean is the color of the stones in Moms silver bracelet as she reaches to take my hand. Her skin is hot and brown and smells like coconut oil, and I want to lick it as we walk down to the water, slow because her belly is so big now with my brother or sister insidehapai its called.

Mom wades in, and the cold water hits us. I squeal and cling. She laughs some more, sinking down so it covers us, prying me off to hold me by both hands.

Opihi, she says, and she means the little round pointed shells that stick on the rocks. Sometimes we pry them off with a screwdriver and eat them. They taste like rubbery seaweed.

She holds my hands. Kick! Kick! she commands.

I kick, the feeling of the water sliding over my skin like the silky blanket I sleep with. I kick and kick and she swirls me through the water, and then puts one hand on my tummy and says, Now rainbow your hands, and I do, making the paddling rainbow motions shes showed me before, and suddenly her hand is gone and Im swimming! And I see the yellow beach, our little blue house, the coconut tree beside it, and the windows that watch the ocean.

Then Im sinking. I gasp for breath, and I paddle harder, but Im under now, my eyes stinging, but still open to see the waves ahead hitting the white foamy sand and my breath held, tight and burning, until Moms hand comes and lifts me back up.

I cough and cough. The water stings inside my chest, much more than the pool or the bath. Im mad that I sank and surprised that I cant swim yet. I was sure I could!

Again! I say when Im done coughing.

You never give up, my sassy bug. Youre going to get this. I know you are. We start over with kicking, and rainbow arms, then she lets me go and I sink... but this time I know its going to work. I hold my breath and keep my eyes open while I kick and rainbow. Underneath I see fishshiny aholehole and green-striped manini, and the black rocks on the bottom that make this place called Rocky Point.

I like it under the water. I feel like I can fly, and this time my kicking and rainbow arms bring me back up by myself. I blow out my breath, drops spray off my lips, and I grin big even though my face is barely out of the water.

You did it! Mom catches me, and I cling around her giant belly, and the belly pushes back at me. I push back at it, and its like were talking. I cant wait to meet whos in there. Mom laughs. The babys excited too. Youre just going to get better and better at this. She lets me ride on her back as she swims, holding onto the strap of her crocheted top. My legs trail behind, and sometimes touch her, a silky feeling.