Hawaiʻi Review Student of the Month, July 2015 by Hawaiʻi Review

STUDENT OF THE MONTH

July 2015

Featuring:

HALEY KANDLER “Our Own World’s Finest”

University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa

Hawaiʻi Review Staff 2015-2016 Editor-in-Chief Abbey Seth Mayer Managing Editor Chase Wiggins Design Editor Avree Ito-Fujita Poetry Editor Julia Wieting Fiction Editor Kapena Landgraf Creative Non-Fiction Editor Rain Wright

Graphic Novel Editor Scott Kaʻalele Graphic Novel Design Editor Crystel Sundberg-Yannell Contact us at: managing@hawaiireview.org

A Note on the Series

Our Student of the Month series features on our website stellar student writing and visual art from the University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa, the institution where our roots dig deep. In print for more than 40 years, our journal has been an established voice in the Pacific and beyond for decades, featuring work from emerging writers alongside literary heavy-weights. The Student of the Month is our latest effort to expand Hawaiʻi Review’s reach by fostering the creative efforts of UH students.

About the Author Written as her final project for a creative writing course at UH – Mānoa, “Our Own World’s Finest” is a stunning piece in which Haley successfully creates a dark and gritty narrative to conceal a wounded character menaced by a hidden danger. An avid fan of superhero comics, Haley sought to “tell a story about hope and strength, two things…essential to telling a successful superhero tale.” A gifted writer, she employs these elements as recurring motifs, contrasting the ominous feel of the world and circumstances built around her characters. A beautiful balance between dialogue and narration, exposition and ambiguity, HR is honored to feature her as our Student of the Month for July of 2015. Kapena M. Landgraf, Fiction Editor 2015-2016

Haley Kandler currently attends the University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa, majoring in Anthropology with a focus on Cultural Anthropology. A graduate of Kaiser High School, she has always enjoyed writing and was a past editor of KHS’s newspaper. She intends to continue her creative writing in hopes of publishing some of her work.

Our Own World’s Finest Haley Kandler

“If you could be one superhero,” Marie started slowly. “Who would it be?” I thought for a moment. “Am I the superhero? Or do I just have the powers?” Marie shrugged her shoulders as she wrapped up another stack of leftover ham slices. She carelessly threw the bag into the fridge. “The superhero.” I stayed silent as I turned the question over in my head all the while packing up whatever food was still out. We had already closed up – Gray’s Sandwich and Salad Shop – locking the door and turning off the front lights, all that needed to be done was storing the left overs and taking out the trash. It wouldn’t take too long, Marie and I were the fastest when it came to clean up, everyone knew that. It was often the reason why the two of us were always scheduled for closing shifts. I didn’t particularly mind staying so late, it wasn’t like I had much to do when it turned dark out, nothing of importance waiting back home. It was also sort of nice being in the quiet of the shop, no customers to charge through the door and trigger the resounding ding of the counter bell. And I liked Marie. Marie was a rebel kind of girl, the one who owned a beat up motor bike and raced it across the highway, her dark hair flowing like a river behind her. The kind that took cigarette breaks when she had the chance or sneered at a customer when they were grating on everyone’s nerves. The kind of girl I had been taught to never associate with. But Marie was easy to talk to and I found that she rather liked our late night conversations. “I think,” I began, tossing another dirty napkin into the trash. “I’d want to be Batman.” 1

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Marie laughed. It was more of a bark than anything else, a sharp sound that fell into a series of chuckles. I winced at the noise. “Tall, dark and broody? That doesn’t suit you.” Marie gave me a playful nudge and a wink. “I’d say Superman for ya.” I let out a vexed squeak. “Shut up.” Tall, dark, and broody sounded perfectly fine to someone who was barely five feet and had a face as non-threatening as a mouse. I could feel myself flush red as I recalled the amount of times I had to strain my neck to give even an sense of strength, of course it never got me very far. It was hard to stand proud when the world had to look down to see nothing more than a fidgety runt. Briefly my fingers danced across my abdomen, testing the soft skin that laid beneath my work uniform. I could picture the ugly, blooming yellow below my ribs that had been plainly visible in the mirror that afternoon. Paired with the harsh finger indents wrapped around my hips, marks that had yet to fully heal, still a deep purple color that twisted my pale skin. Yes, tall, dark, and broody didn’t wear marks like those, at least not in shame. I ignored those thoughts. “Superman is boring.” “Nah,” Marie said, bending down to tie up the large trash bag. “The dude’s not boring, he’s practical.” “It’s very much possible to be both.” Marie threw her head back and laughed, it was like a roar filled the empty shop. Throwing the large trash bag over her shoulder, Marie nodded toward the door. “Come with me to the dumpster?” We got all our personals gathered, finished with the shop and ready to leave. This time always made me feel a sort of emptiness in my gut, like turning the final key in the shop’s door meant leaving behind a piece of myself. I thought maybe it had something to do with Marie, the 2

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regret that locking the door meant our conversations were almost done and we would not see each other again till the next shift. I locked the door and Marie, hefting the bag of trash, made her way to the dumpster. I quickly fell into step beside her. “The thing though about Batman,” Marie announced to the night sky. Her attention stayed focused on the path ahead of her. “is that he’s got no powers, that’s like ten times worse than Superman.” “Resourcefulness is a very admirable trait.” I told her, watching as she mulled over that in thought. The rising stink of the dead infiltrated our noses as we got closer to our destination. Days worth of food, drinks, packaging, and unsanitary products piled into one temple of trash. Vaguely, I wondered what it would be like to jump into such a pile, would it be soft? Or would it dig and poke itself into my skin? How silly Marie would think I am, if she knew what I was thinking. Jumping into a dumpster, how insane. Marie tossed our shop’s bag into the pile, immediately reaching for the carton of cigarettes in her purse. She placed a stick between her lips before plunging a hand back into her purse for her lighter. When she next spoke it was muttered, her mouth and words forming awkwardly around the cigarette. “What’s with the Superman hate? Like, the dude’s all powerful, saving people and being brave and stuff. He’s America’s sweetheart or whatever,” she paused when she successfully found her bright pink lighter. She lit up in no time at all, taking in a quick inhale and exhaling a puff of smoke away from me. I made a note of the small consideration. “It’s just him being him and we hate him for it.” I studied Marie in the ensuing silence between us, she stared right back. Her eyes were unnerving, as dark and commanding as the rest of her. It reminded me of the threat that lurked 3

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in my home, the one who spoke with sweetness but always had a sharp look in their gaze, waiting for me to make a wrong move. But Marie was different, I reminded myself. Marie’s piercing look was protective in the way it watched over me, never possessive. Still, I couldn’t help the chill of anxiety that ran through me and I staggered backwards from the intensity of the moment before shifting my attention to the ground. The words were at my lips, threatening to spill out and reveal everything to Marie. To tell her of the hands that painted me black and blue and the words that clawed at my heart. I wanted to tell her about how one moment I could be held like a precious gem only to be pushed away with a snarl. In that second, I wanted Marie to save me. I pursed my lips, testing the way the confession would taste. It tasted like the bile of the trash, disgust and fear. I swallowed those words down, feeling the way they burned my throat. “I like Batman.” Marie didn’t say anything and for an instant I thought perhaps she didn’t hear me. My voice had been quiet, a whisper so light that even the wind could not control its direction, instead just letting it glide into the night. But soon I felt a heavy weight on my shoulder and I fought the urge to flinch back, to show weakness. Instead, I craned my neck up to see Marie smiling at me gently. My breath caught. “I know.” I let Marie go after that, returning her goodbye when I realized that our moment was over. As I watched her leave, the phone in my own bag started to vibrate. I made a halfhearted attempt to search for it, finally pulling it out when the call had already ended. I stared blankly at the Missed Call sign. My phone vibrated again. A text this time. Hey work done? You didn’t pick up. Don’t move, I’ll come get you. Panic gripped me and my hand wavered as I thought of typing a response. 4

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But before I could do anything more, a thunderous boom filled the air. I watched as Marie tore down the nearby street on her rusty, used motorbike, her dark hair billowing like a cape behind her. How could someone look so strong in the dark that surrounded them? Something in my mind clicked and I shut my eyes and took in a deep breath. I stashed my phone back into my bag and, ignoring its insistent vibrations, I made my way over to the nearest bus station. Each step away from where my fear would meet me felt like a step closer to the light.

This Could Be ...

If you are student and would like to feature your work in Student of the Month or an instructor for a creative writing course would like to submit exemplary University of Hawaiʻi student work to Hawaiʻi Review’s Student of the Month initiative, please send submissions to our Submittable account at bit.ly/submit2HR

Featured Calls Graphic Novel Illustrators: Hawaiʻi Review is adapting the legend of Koolau into

a graphic novel that will be published as a special edition. We are looking for artists that want to work with us to recrerate this true Hawaiian legend. We will design storyboards and full illustrations based on multiple sources, including the original Hawaiian language newspaper articles that chronicled the attempted capture of Koolau and his family after he contracted leprosy in 1893 on the island of Kauaʻi. Deadline: September 30, 2015

Reviews: We invite you to submit “a review,” however creatively you might define that, of a forthcoming or recently published work or a recent literary event. We are interested in casting our net into literary scenes beyond Hawai‘i, but we give special preference to reviews of literary works or events from Hawai‘i. Deadline: Ongoing

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