by Carole Wilson

Created on: September 14, 2008

Reluctant Journey

"Just a minute!" Tugging my shorts on over my swimsuit while deciding between sandals or tennis shoes, I sighed in exasperation. There really wasn't anywhere to eat at the end of Hana road according to the traveler's book. Why wouldn't they listen? We'd be hungry and then what? There was just no convincing this group.
I should have known what it would be like. What was I thinking coming to Hawaii with my parents, my uncle and his current wife? I loved Hawaii, that's true. Lying on my towel atop the warm sand, vaguely aware of my surroundings, chatting off and on to my friend or sister, I warmed myself until I felt toasty enough to get in the water. The water was unlike anything I had ever experienced before I came to the islands for the first time. It was perfect and took no getting used to. I luxuriated in the calmness, lying on an air mattress, drifting in the gentle waves so relaxing it could lull me to sleep. This scenario was not to be my experience on the present trip. One, I had no one to go with me to the beach and lay around. Two, I really had no say so in where we went. Although I was a grown woman in her thirties, I was still a kid to my parents and relatives. I was extra baggage totted along. It wasn't meant to be this way. I was supposed to have company, but my cousin bailed at the last minute, not wanting to bear another trip with her father.

Making one last futile attempt, I practically pleaded, "Couldn't we bring a few snacks, just in case?" "No!" was the resounding reply. Why wasn't I just daring and take something anyway? "We'll find something there I'm sure" my mom replied. She was my mom, actually my stepmother. I had gotten used to her "southern ways" and developed an appreciation for her especially since she clearly loved my dad, but I really missed the bond with my dad. I thought maybe we could snatch some time alone together on this trip. I guess I was still searching for his approval; perhaps it was even deeper, I wanted him to admire me. I had worked hard pushing my way up in the engineering world of Silicon Valley even though I didn't have a technical degree, having majored in Child Development. However, it didn't compare to my brother's degree in Electronics Engineering and his start-up company.
The door of the bungalow lazily shut behind me as I surveyed the sight. All of the "adults" were waiting impatiently in the car. The clear blue ocean contrasted against the black volcanic beaches lay beyond inviting me. I

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