She had short curly-brown hair, an upturned nose, and a pixie-like smile. She seemed to chirp instead of speak. I was driving her Nissan Rogue. I had rented it from her for my two week stay in the islands, and I was now taking her to the airport. I thought I would be returning it to her, but, instead, it would go to the leasing company from whence it came.
She explained she was flying to New Mexico with her two cats and picking up a car to make the final 10 hour drive to Waco, Texas. Hawaii, which had been her home for the past seventeen years, would be relegated to history. She had come on vacation, found peace of mind on the Big Island, and stayed. She found a lover and stayed. They moved to Honolulu when jobs were scarce, worked, and loved and broke up.
Now she was going back to Waco, Tex. She opined that her dad didn’t know about the move. But, he was in his eighties and didn’t adjust well, so she didn’t tell him she was coming home. It would be a surprise. She paused for several moments and said that someone had to look after him. She was quiet for several seconds. I wondered what she was thinking.
She perused the leather paneling on her side of the car said, “Good-bye car. I sure loved you”.
Then quietly, almost inaudibly, I heard her say, “Good-bye Hawaii”.
I stopped in front of the Delta terminal. She thanked me for the ride, smiled, took her bags and disappeared into the milieu of the bustling airport.