Poina Cats
The Kai Malo’o beach cliffs inadvertent camping adventure.
“I don’t think we planned this very well,” Jess said, ignoring a vast ocean paradise vista, pointing to the setting sun. We hiked into the Poina forest five miles with a pack full of bedding and two hammocks. We crossed over crystal streams, passed along enchanted waterfalls, and listened to birds question our intentions burning daylight. When we reached Kai Malo’o beach outlook at five-thirty, the sun was beginning to set.
“You’re the one who’s always telling me I should trust my intuition. Feel into my gut and let it guide me towards adventure,” I said, dropping my pack on the trail, kicking up a plume of red dust.
“We can’t hike back in the dark,” she worried.
“Listen to where you are at this moment,” I said, putting my arms around her, holding her from behind. I felt her beating heart.
A tropical breeze warmed our skin, waves cashed below, calming our nerves, and ocean smells invigorated our spirit.
“I packed our hammocks and blankets for the night,” I said, feeling Jess settle in my arms. She looked at me with a relaxed smile. “My gut said we should hike up here, enjoy this beautiful sunset and sleep under a canopy of stars.”
We strung the hammocks between two trees beside the cliff overlooking Kai Malo’o’s black sands while gentle waves washed ashore. Isolated, surrounded by an endless forest of palms, we felt like the only two people alive on the island.
Mommy! Mommy!
The cry echoed in my dream.
Mommy! Mommy!
I was suspended in comfort, resting above the world. Awakened the long drown-out cry of a child for their mommy deep inside the dark forest.
“Chris, did you hear that?” Jess whispered, swinging beside me in her hammock. “Is it an animal?”
I tried to listen but heard rhythmic waves beating upon the beach. Then it started out soft and grew louder. The cry of a child wanting their mommy, yelling for help.
I swung a leg over the hammock and jumped onto the dusty trail. Then peered into nothing towards the direction of the child’s cries.
“It sounds like a little kid. They sound scared, frightened,” I said, wishing my eyes would adjust to the night, regretting I hadn’t packed a powerful flashlight.
Then I saw prickled tree trunks, green ferns, and a trail of pounded dirt and exposed rock snake off into the distance. Jess rocked above me shining a light from her cellphone.
Mommy! Mommy!
“It sounds close. Maybe other campers?” Jess suggested, moving the light back and forth over the trail. “I don’t like this. They sound like they’re in pain.”
I turned the flashlight on my cellphone. Then started down the trail.
“Don’t go, what if it’s someone getting murdered?”
“You got dark really fast,” I replied, hesitating on the trail.
“It’s four in the morning, what kid’s out in the woods at 4 am unless they’re dragged off by some sicko?” Jess continued, filling my head with danger.
I picked up a rock. Then tested its weight in my hand, feeling prepared for combat. I could bash whoever was causing the kid harm over the head and be a hero.
I followed the hollow screams for mommy down the trail. It was a ghostly sound, haunting my every step. I held my breath. Trying to keep the light from my phone pointed down. I didn’t want anyone or anything to see me coming.
Mommy! Mommy!
I was on top of the cries but didn’t see anything responsible for the noise. There wasn’t a kid in danger or a murderer standing with an ax dripping blood. I didn’t see anyone in pain, yet the cries sounded familiar. It sounded like-
“It’s cats,” Jess said, scaring the crap out of me, making me jump. She followed me down the trail, sneaking up behind me to announce her discovery.
It was two cats, laying atop of each other.
“I think we should leave them alone,” I suggested, pointing my light in their eyes. They stared at us in disgust.
“What is he doing to her?” Jess asked, picking up a handful of pebbles. “Poor thing he’s not being gentle with her at all,” she said, tossing her handful of rocks into the bushes. The cats screamed and darted out into the forest in opposite directions.
“Ha! The cats were”
“I don’t want to hear about it,” Jess interrupted as sunlight crested over the horizon. “We should pack up, head down the trail, and get breakfast.”
She was right. We didn’t get much sleep and skipped out on dinner last night in order to catch the sunset. I was hungry. We both followed our gut this morning.
Copyright 2021 CMad Poet 2021
Christopher Madsen (CMad Poet), author of the Limerick books:
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