LITMIR.BIZ

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it’s ok,” Rasa said, wrapping her arms around him. She pulled him close to her. “I’m here for you,” she whispered.

      Rasa tried to get to the bottom of it, but he clammed up.

      He did, however, stop the lewd drawings. Yet he became more bitter. He acted like a jaded, vigilant hawk—not like the nine-year-old he was. Circling. Observing. Calculating Kalindi’s next move. Wanting desperately to defend his sisters from their mother’s actions.

      Rasa knew Ach’s self-appointed role as their security detail was in vain. How could he keep them out of harm’s way if she, the older sister, couldn’t? Worse, if their mother didn’t even try?

      Last night, without warning, Kalindi brought a strange man named Zeke into their shack. One look at the six-foot-two muscle man from Georgia and Ach sprung up off the sofa like a rabid dog.

      “Who the fuck are you?” he snarled, trying to make his voice sound deep.

      Kalindi sauntered into her bedroom. “Acharya, dahling, don’t,” she warned. Then she sang, “Oh Zeeeke. Come on, baby, I got something for ya.”

      “Be right there.” His Southern drawl hung thick in the air like the smoke from his blunt. He looked at Ach and laughed. “Woah, big man. Chill.” Zeke held out the fattie and raised his eyebrows, offering Ach a drag.

      “Can’t you see my sisters are here?” He curled his arms around Nitya and Shanti.

      Rasa had been in the shower when Kalindi and Zeke came in. But she’d heard every word. She threw on her dress and stepped out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Everyone looked up.

      Zeke eyed her.

      Ach looked back at Zeke. “Leave. Now!”

      But Zeke wasn’t listening. His greedy eyes were gorging on Rasa. “Is she your sister too, big man?” Zeke asked, arching a sly brow. He didn’t wait for Ach to answer. He beckoned with a chin up. “Hey sis, why don’t you join us in the bedroom?”

      Rasa wasn’t fazed. She rolled her eyes. “It’s not worth it, Ach. Come on, let’s eat,” she said. She walked into the kitchen and rummaged for food.

      But Ach had already lost it. He stormed toward Zeke.

      Zeke swatted Ach away like a pesky fly. Ach stumbled back and fell.

      Rasa heard the commotion. She darted into the living room to find Ach throwing punches at Zeke’s gut. Nitya was crying and Shanti had covered her face with her hands. Rasa jumped in between Zeke and Ach. She threw her arms around her brother and squeezed tight. “Ach, it’s ok, it’s ok…let’s take a walk.”

      But Zeke had another idea. He weaseled his hand onto Rasa’s arm and tugged. “He’ll be okay, I guarantee—as long as you get your pretty little ass in here with me and Kalindi.”

      “No!” Ach screamed.

      Rasa looked straight into her brother’s eyes. She stooped forward to his ear. “It’s ok, Ach. Take the girls and stay at Kawika’s. Bring the ramen,” she whispered. “It’s in the pantry.” She went limp as Zeke dragged her into the bedroom.

      He slammed the door shut and locked it before Ach could race in.

      “Rasa! Rasa!” Ach screamed. He pounded on the door.

      That was last night.

      Rasa was determined to make today better for her siblings.

      The tide rose and the cool, turquoise ocean engulfed Rasa’s body, breaking her out of her sand prison. High tide was about to steal their beach. Rasa sprung up to grab the towels, sunscreen, and water. She directed Nitya and Shanti to the grass and then called for her brother. He trudged over with his football tucked under his arm.

      They climbed the steep concrete embankment and crossed the two lanes of Kamehameha Highway. Turning left and then a sharp right at the Kim Taylor Reece Gallery, they dawdled alongside the dirt road leading to their shack.

      Shanti moaned. She rubbed her eyes with her free hand. “Sleepy,” she whispered.

      “I know, baby girl,” Rasa said, shrugging her right shoulder to hoist the heavy beach bag further up. She tightened her grip on Shanti’s hand.

      Nitya yawned. Rasa patted her head and said, “We’ll all take naps at home, ok?”

      The previous joy on Nitya’s face was gone, replaced by the usual glazed expression she wore at home. Everyone knew Nitya didn’t speak words, though it was hard to remember this when she was outside running around and laughing with her brother and sisters.

      Rasa put her arm around Nitya’s small shoulder. “Hey, you ok?”

      Nothing. Nitya stared straight ahead.

      Ach grunted as he tossed his football up and down. Rasa pictured his pencil sketch from this morning. She’d asked him about it.

      “It’s my dad,” he’d reported as he shaded in the man’s hair.

      Sometimes Ach asked Kalindi to tell him about his father, but all she’d say was, “Hau’ula is your father.”

      Ach would snap back something like, “Fuck you,” or “I hate you,” to her hippie convictions before running out of the house.

      Rasa inspected Ach’s face. She caught his eye and asked, “Ach, what’s up?”

      “Nothing,” he mumbled. He jutted his chin and looked away.

      Rasa wasn’t convinced.

      They approached the shack and spotted Paul’s new black Toyota Tundra. Next to its shiny chrome suspension and enormous grille guard, Kalindi’s rusty 1970-something red Datsun looked like a toy car.

      The Datsun hadn’t started in over a week, but now it was parked in a different spot. Rasa and Ach exchanged glances. They knew what was going on.

      Paul fixed Kalindi’s Datsun.

      Kalindi was “paying” Paul.

      After Zeke left last night, Kalindi pulled Rasa aside and said, “Think of it this way, we’re way better off than those devadasi in India. They’re married to the temple and they have to sleep with whoever the priest says. We’re married to Hau’ula, but we get to choose who we sleep with ourselves. And we keep the money we make.” She paused and handed Rasa fifty of the one hundred and fifty Zeke had paid. When Rasa didn’t say anything, Kalindi leaned in and whispered, “Anyway, why get a minimum wage job when your beauty can bring in way more money in an hour?”

      Rasa folded the fifty and tucked it into her bra. She didn’t bother to ask why Kalindi got to keep more of the earnings. That was just how it was. When Kalindi made the introductions, she expected Rasa to hand over two thirds of the earnings. Rasa didn’t mind because she made enough from the dates she set up herself to take care of her siblings the way she saw fit.

      Last week Rasa handed her mother over two hundred dollars from three dates. Kalindi held it close to her heart and whispered, “My strong black widow-svairini. And only fourteen.”

      Rasa didn’t feel much of anything at her mother’s twisted words of affection. She kept herself focused on doing what she had to do.

       Money for Ach, Nitya, and Shanti.

      Sex for money was fine and dandy for Rasa. But she refused to think this type of life was good for her siblings. There were days when Rasa wished for the luxury of a carefree childhood. To go hang out with girlfriends her own age. Though she didn’t have any. To go to school every day. To do nothing sometimes. These desires strengthened her resolve to make sure her siblings got as much of a happy-go-lucky childhood as possible.

      Ach elbowed Rasa.

      “What the fuck?” he muttered, his nostrils flaring and his eyes narrowed.

      Rasa put her hand on his shoulder. She looked back at Paul’s

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