The gentle wind graced my sun kissed skin. The waves crashing to the shore echoed through Mauma Kea, the highest point in Hawaii. I then smelled a subtle hint of gardenia. Turning around, I spotted a bouquet left on someone’s grave. The sweet smell of the delicate flowers reminded me of Grandma who always brought gardenia when we visited our ancestors together at this burial ground. “I will bring some for you next time Nana,” I whispered to the stone engraved with her name, Ikaika Iona, passed down to me so I can be as powerful as she was.

 Down the mountain there were loud chatters. I must have been so lost in my thoughts that people quietly crowded around the town hall. “What could be going on?” I thought. Rushing down Seabury Street that led me to the Town Hall of North Shore, I finally reached the grand doors. Jolted by someone pulling my arm, I saw my mom looking upset as she said, “The mountain, the mountain might go.” “What?” I could feel my face turn red, brighter than a sunburn on a hot day.

I knew exactly what my mom meant. Mayor Caldwell and members of North Shore chamber of commerce have been trying to build a giant telescope on top of the Mauma Kea volcano, with the town voting next week. “I am not letting this crap happen,” my grandpa cursed. “But, how?” I asked skeptically. “Not on my dead body,” my pop bellowed before he stomped away. We all knew that building the telescope will bring more customers to our family café, Blue Waves. But I couldn’t bring myself to imagine crowds of people using the volcano as an Instagram photo site and a picnic site for parties.

            The dreaded voting day finally arrived, which would decide the fate of the mountain. The sky was grey almost like Grandma knew the future. The mayor, Mr. Caldwell, greeted everyone in front of the town hall with his last remarks for the construction of the telescope, passing around pamphlets to win the town’s approval. “I know many of you do not like the idea of the new construction, but I hope you will soon all realize that this will help North Shore.” Then representatives from the local gas station, Aloha Island Mart, North Shore Surf Shop, and the favorite local restaurant: Human Delight, all joined the mayor touting the potential of the construction to bring much needed new business for the town.

Grandpa came forward to Mayor Caldwell and threw the pamphlet on his feet, “North Shore has been my home for the past forty years, I got married on that mountain, then buried my soulmate there.  It’s not a tourist site! It’s a home from home.” The humidity of the tropical island had gotten to him as he was sweating, almost like he was crying inside. Everyone stood silently knowing that what Grandpa said had some meaning to them. But no one clapped, no one joined him, and frankly no one knew what to say.

The tallying of the votes was easy as it was just me and Grandpa who voted no for the telescope to be built. Everyone else knew that they didn’t want this to happen, but there was no choice for the small businesses. Even Mom and Dad voted yes hoping the telescope would bring more customers to Blue Waves. “Does business mean more to you than family?” Grandpa wrangled with my parents. “Frank, you know the mountain is special to us too, but we have to provide for Ikaika” my dad tried to reason with him. Grandpa silently walked away.

The construction of the telescope took almost four months. On April 13, the grand opening of the telescope, TMT, would be premiered everywhere. North Shore residents were invited up to the mountain to see the new addition to their town. It was just me, Mom, and Dad walking to Mauma Kea because Grandpa made it clear he did not associate with this monstrosity taking over North Shore. The ribbon-cutting ceremony was ready. The telescope was wrapped around in red ribbon and Mayor Caldwell greeted the townsfolks and the media. “We stand here today to introduce TMT to the world. This is the better and brighter future for not just this town but for the whole world.”

After the rather bombastic ceremony, I went home feeling defeated. There was nothing to be done anymore. It’s there. A huge, grey monstrosity suffocating me by looking down on North Shore. It was almost as the telescope was mimicking me, my reflections, and the ancestors of the used-to-be holy ground. My cherished time with Nana is now crushed. How did this building of the gigantic telescope, blocking my happiness and the sun, happen? Anger arose in me causing tears to swell in my eyes. “I am so sorry Nana,” I said collapsing on my bed.

In the middle of the night, I woke up with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Sirens went off, identical to the tsunami ones we have to practice every month. “What is happening,” I thought. I ran up to Grandpa’s room and was greeted with the empty, unmade bed. Where could he be now? Then it clicked. I dashed out of the house, gasping at the blazing fire at the top of the mountain. It wasn’t a tsunami; it’s much worse. I rushed down to Seabury Street where fire fighters held back curious citizens. “No, you don’t understand, I have to get up there.” I fought. The firefighters grabbed me. “My grandpa, my grandpa is missing, “I yelled kicking and punching them. I escaped their strong grips and dashed toward the fire.

The smoke and ash seemed inescapable, and the mountain path was blocked with debris. But a subtle hint of gardenia guided me to Grandpa sitting on a rock holding a bouquet just below the trail to the telescope. I saw a tear escape his eyes. I didn’t say anything to him. What can I say?  Instead, we just sat there and looked at the sparks fizzling in the dark sky.