by Kay Bratt
“Then we should start digging,” Auntie Wang said.
“Oh. Quinn also sent her DNA into one of those lineage websites,” Liam said.
That got Auntie Wang’s attention. “And have you gotten any results back yet?”
“Not really,” Quinn said. “So far the only surprise has been that my ethnicity includes East Asian and Scandinavian. Along with Polynesian descent, of course.”
That pleased the old woman too. Quinn could tell by the way her eyes danced with the news.
“Well, you should know that many, and maybe even most, native Hawaiians are mixed with Chinese, Japanese, and other Asian cultures too. It’s only logical, as Hawaii started out with mostly immigrants from those countries.”
Quinn shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter to me. I was surprised, though. My mother always said my father was fair, and that was where my European features come from.”
Auntie Wang raised her eyebrows, studying Quinn’s face. “European features? Hmm . . . Sometimes we see what we want to see, or what we expect to see. And then many of us only see ourselves as someone told us we should be.”
Quinn didn’t understand. She looked at Liam. “Does that mean that I don’t look . . . ?”
He shook his head. “Let’s not even go into what you—or we—think you look like. We need evidence to send us in the right direction, not suppositions.”
“Very smart, Liam,” Auntie Wang said, flashing him a proud smile. “I see your parents have raised a very wise son.”
He laughed. “You do realize that I’m easing into middle age, right, Auntie Wang? I think I might’ve grown up some since the day you caught me swiping Old Man Johnson’s pineapples at the farmers market. And much of my wisdom comes from you. How many times have you set me on the straight and narrow?”
She laughed. “You aren’t the only one I’ve had to crack the whip on. Don’t forget what your brother—”
“I do have one other name,” Quinn interrupted, remembering the photo from the jewelry box. “I found a picture of what looks like my mom from probably just before she got pregnant with me, posing with another girl. On the back, she wrote Carmen Crowe.”
Auntie Wang lost the smile. “Now that is interesting.”
“You know someone by that name?” Liam asked.
“I’m not sure I know who Carmen is,” Auntie Wang said, “but anyone who has been on Maui for very long knows the name Crowe. There are stories tied to that name.”
Her reply sounded ominous. Quinn wasn’t even sure she wanted to know, but she also didn’t want to not know.
“Can you tell me more?”
“Oh, I can tell you quite a bit,” Auntie Wang said, then stood and gestured toward a red velvet sofa and chair on the far wall. “But we’d better go sit somewhere more comfortable for this. It might take a while.”
Chapter Ten
Auntie Wang took center stage in what Quinn assumed was some sort of Asian emperor’s chair, holding court over them as she wove her tale. The painting behind her was a contradiction to the chair, its vivid colors and majestic Maui scene as Hawaiian as it could get.
As Auntie Wang spoke, Quinn scrutinized her face, marveling at how the woman could look Chinese and Hawaiian at the same time. Her skin was nearly flawless, and her eyes were expertly outlined and of the most unique shape. Her nose was small but beautifully sculpted. Yes, the woman was a classic beauty, and Quinn decided she was a masterful storyteller too.
“I don’t know if this Carmen Crowe is of the Maui Crowes, but if she is, then she’s connected to a colorful family,” Auntie Wang began. “Back when I was a kid, the Crowes were known around here as one of the richest families on the island. But they weren’t always that way. Theirs was a true rags-to-riches story, having sold most of the property they owned to a developer for one of those fancy resorts up in West Maui. But before the deal went through, there was a lot of fighting about it.”
“Fighting between who?” Quinn asked.
Auntie Wang held a hand up. “I’ll get there, but first I have to start at the beginning. You need to know what it was like to grow up in Maui long ago, before we were turned into a tourism landmark and all the foreigners flocked here.”
Quinn listened intently. She’d always wanted to know what her mother’s childhood was like, but that was a subject that had been closed to her.
“Before you were born,” Auntie Wang continued, “and even before your mother was born, the island was quiet. Barely any traffic. And was not even on the map of popular places to visit. Did you know that Maui was the first capital of the Kingdom of Hawaii?”
“I did,” Liam said, raising his hand.
“Of course you did. I wasn’t talking to you.” She gently chastised him, but Quinn knew it was a ruse. It was obvious she and Liam were crazy about each other.
“It used to be a whaling port, didn’t it?” Quinn asked.
Auntie Wang nodded. “Up in Lahaina, yes. Even today the whales come back every year, but now that it’s a well-known attraction and the tourists flock to the shores, there are fewer sightings. Back when the whales were plentiful, sugarcane grew wild and abundant here, and the entire island was fueled by the work on plantations. The big businesses that came after the sugar overthrew the Hawaiian kingdom and stole land for their crops and water for their fields, pushing many families away because they were unable to do what they’d done for generations.”
She looked pained for a moment. “My own ancestors were a big part of that, I’m sad to say. But people will always seize a way to build a better life for their families.”
“No shame in that, Auntie Wang,” Liam said.
She continued, “Things changed, but Hawaiian life was still good. While Oahu was becoming a metropolitan kind of place, and the big island was attracting hordes of outsiders, Maui continued to be the secret, quiet oasis of the Hawaiian people. Back then, entire villages raised children, not just a set of parents. When I was growing up, I was welcomed into the homes of all my neighbors—Filipinos, Japanese, Koreans, and all others. I have a palate even now for every type of food, matching any sort of culture that ever came here. My parents never worried for me, and many evenings I sat at the feet of a Kupuna—one of the neighborhood elders—while he entertained all of us children with stories and legends. It was a magical childhood, full of dreams about night marchers on the beaches, mermaids in the river pools, and gods of the sea.”
She paused, her eyes closed as she remembered.
“Many people were thankful for the sudden riches our sugar brought. But some farmers competed with the sugar plantations. They grew taro. The big companies came in and started buying up land and securing water rights. Bitterness came to the island. Farmers who found themselves without the water or irrigation they needed began to earn their way as fishermen. Up in the mountains, there were sprawling cattle ranches. Some of them—those owned by families who haven’t sold out—are still there today and worked by the cowboys.”
“That was my dream when I was young,” Liam said.
Quinn could easily imagine him as a rough-and-tumble cowboy.
“By the time I became an adult—and that was a long time ago,” Auntie Wang said, “Maui began to lose its grip as the leader in the sugar industry. A new tariff was introduced, and the sugar prices were artificially elevated, causing many food producers and beverage makers to go out of the United States for their sugar. Some say the demise was because of all the fighting over water rights. Others claim the end came from the farmers’ refusal to learn new, modern techniques and by cutting corners. My own father admitted that even before he got it, his soil was on the way to ruination, with barely any nutrient base. He said all over the island, the plantation owners refused to fallow. They were greedy, trying to process as much sugar as fast as they could. They didn’t rotate crops, and all they wanted to do was burn, till, plant, then do it all over again, stripping the land of its true value.”
“The left hand wants to blame the r
ight hand, but in the end, all the people suffer,” Liam said.
Auntie Wang nodded.
“Many lost their livelihoods, but soon the first businessman came to Maui and saw it through the eyes of a foreigner. He bought up some out-of-business plantations and developed our first high-class resort. Soon, other landowners were selling, all vying to become millionaires by way of the land they’d inherited.”
“So the Crowes were some that sold out?” Quinn asked.
“Not completely. The Crowes owned one of the biggest ranches on the island. Located on the road to Hana, their land sprawled across more than five thousand lush acres through valleys and pineapple fields, nestled at the base of unspoiled mountains. The land was theirs since the beginning and was sacred to the family. A big spender came through and made the family an offer on all of it.”
“And they sold it?” Quinn asked, feeling sad for a family she didn’t even know.
“It’s not that simple,” Auntie Wang said. “Not everyone was on board. Obviously, the elders were against it. They remained traditional, defining themselves by their relationships to each other, their ancestors, but especially their land.”
“I know this to be true,” Liam said.
“Yes, you do.” Auntie Wang exchanged a knowing look with him. “Anyway, the offer caused a huge rift. Fathers against sons, mothers against daughters, aunts and uncles waging protests. The elder Crowes wanted to keep the land and continue to farm what they could and keep cattle on the rest. But the younger generation, save for a few dedicated members, wanted the instant riches. The feud had the entire island in an uproar, spreading news of how insensitively the Crowes were treating one another—family turning against family—all over the love of money.”
The story was engrossing, and Quinn soon found herself hanging on every word.
“I heard some stories about this but didn’t know it was that bad,” Liam said.
“That bad and worse,” Auntie Wang said. “When some of the Crowes threatened to set everything on fire if they sold the land, the family finally hired an attorney from Oahu to mediate between them: Charles Rocha.”
“I recognize that name,” Liam said. “Don’t the Rochas own that bed-and-breakfast on the road to Hana? The one that’s still closed for business?”
“Yes, the Hana House. They bought it last year, among a few other businesses here on Maui that were floundering. But back then, they’d never been to Maui. That all changed when the Crowes asked Rocha to help them work through what was best for the family legacy,” Auntie Wang said.
“I can understand hiring someone,” Quinn said. “Sometimes it takes an outsider to mediate and bring everyone together.”
Auntie Wang nodded. “At first, the town settled down, thinking the Crowes were going to behave now. But soon, a deal was made, and a large parcel of the land was sold to the investor, with the bulk of the profits supposed to come back into making the remaining land better. The family decided to stop fighting for water rights to grow crops and instead turn the ranch into a place of peace and beauty that would attract their own piece of the tourist trade. They could continue to raise cattle, and there would be enough money left from the sale of the biggest parcel to go into the pockets of each segment of the family.”
“Then everyone was happy?” Quinn said, confused.
“Sure, if it had happened that way,” Auntie Wang said. “Instead, the attorney they trusted so much to act on their behalf helped work out the deal, and the Crowes signed. The land was sold, and money came through, but it didn’t trickle down to them as they’d thought it would. The attorney found a loophole and was able to pocket the majority of the profits.”
Quinn’s eyes widened. “How could he get away with that?”
“Because the Crowes signed it away without reading the fine print. They sued, but the contract they signed was ironclad. When all was said and done, they lost the biggest part of their land to a fancy developer and barely got enough money to keep their own ranch going. The family continued to fall apart until it became divided, everyone choosing a side.”
“So they lost the ranch too?” Quinn asked.
“No, it’s still there. Only about a thousand acres or less now, but the family who remained committed to it and worked their fingers to the bone, growing their herds of cattle as well as opening the ranch experience up to the tourists, who by then were swarming to Maui. It’s been a long, hard experience for them, and one filled with sorrow at the loss of so much of their ancestors’ land, but they’ve survived.”
“And the attorney? He got away with it?”
“Of course he did, but he’s long dead by now. Before he died, he built a place up in Haiku, and as far as I know, his family is still there. His deeds didn’t go unpunished, though. While his family only got richer from his crookedness, they’ve also been cursed with bad luck. He fathered a lot of children, and a couple of them took over his law practice. Others kept cattle. A few of them turned to drugs. I remember a few more rumors of more bad dealings and the lawsuits that followed. Once the Rocha ranch was mysteriously set afire, and they lost all of their livestock. The house was rebuilt, but the family never recovered.”
“That’s tragic,” Quinn said.
“It is, and that’s not even all of what has befallen them. What pains me is the burden for the generations who came after. Most of them have tried to live honestly. It’s not their fault, but the deeds of the grandfather were a blemish on their family name forever, and the latest generation has had its share of bad luck too. A few tragedies, even.”
“But they’re still rich,” Liam said. “I know of that ranch.”
“They’ve accumulated even more riches, yes,” Auntie Wang said. “But what good is money when you are always recovering from tragedy?”
Quinn shook her head. “But the Rochas took everything from the Crowes, so wouldn’t that be justice?”
“It depends on if you believe in vengeance or forgiveness, I suppose,” Auntie Wang said. “From what I’ve heard, most of the Crowes around today have dropped the vendetta against the Rochas. They are a peaceful family, and the old wounds have healed with the new generations. Like most Hawaiians, they’ve learned to be thankful for what they have left.”
Quinn’s face warmed at the silent reprimand. “What a terrible story. And to think, my mother was involved personally. That blows my mind.”
“We don’t know that for sure,” Auntie Wang said. “The Carmen Crowe in that photo could be from another family altogether, though I don’t know of any other Crowes that came to Maui who weren’t related.”
“Sounds to me like she was definitely one of them,” Liam said. “If we could find this Carmen Crowe, she would be able to give us information about your mother’s family.”
Quinn’s head was spinning. How would her mother come to be close to someone with such a reputation of sorrow? Though it really wasn’t that far-fetched. Her mother had always been drawn to those in need.
Quinn felt there was even more to the story. Perhaps more tragedy but also details that the public didn’t know. Like her mother, she’d always cheered for the underdog, and though her heart broke for the Crowe family, she also felt for the Rochas who came later and probably wished they were not born under the shadow of Charles Rocha’s black deeds.
Liam stood. “Auntie Wang, we’ve been here a long time now, and we should go. You’ve got other commitments, I’m sure.”
She smiled as she stood and yawned. “You’re right. I have a committee meeting at the museum this afternoon, but first up is a short nap. Quinn, I will do some poking around about this Carmen Crowe character.”
“Thank you so much, Auntie Wang,” Quinn said. “And I’ll let you know if the Lineage registry finds anything concrete.”
Auntie Wang reached out and touched her hand. “I wanted to talk to you about that. I’ve been there, and I know how it feels to see a possible connection, then later find out it’s nothing. It’s devastating.”
&
nbsp; She was right.
“Yes, I’m sure it would be,” Quinn said. “But it’s something I need to do.”
“It needs to be done, I agree,” Auntie Wang said. “But why don’t you turn it over to me and let me follow up on each lead? It will save you a fair amount of heartache, and when I find something that is a real connection, we can follow it together. There are more ways to look for your family too. If you have your birth certificate and your mother’s, I’d like to see them.”
Quinn considered her proposal. It sounded enticing. With all the emotions she was juggling at the moment, it might be nice to have a mediator to sort through everything.
“That would give you more time to help with the house before you leave,” Liam said, raising an eyebrow at her.
Quinn looked from him to the old woman. Liam had a point, and she couldn’t help but think about how good it felt to actually help with the remodeling of her own new home.
“And you should show her more of Maui,” Auntie Wang said. “She needs to see where her family is from.”
“I think we can squeeze in some sightseeing, if I juggle a few things around,” Liam said.
“Okay,” Quinn conceded. They were right. She was managing too much, and a little assistance could help her see things more clearly. Keep an emotional distance from it all. Auntie Wang was perfect for the job. And she did want to see more of Maui on this trip. “Give me your email address, and I’ll send you the link and my password. And the copies of the birth certificates. But you promise you’ll keep me updated if anything at all comes up?”
“Cross my heart,” Auntie Wang said. “And Liam knows my information. He can forward it to you.” She beamed back at Quinn, filled with a new energy as she practically glided across the floor to lead them to the door.
Chapter Eleven
Quinn was up early. After a quick shower, she pulled on a simple T-shirt and shorts and pulled her hair back into a twist. After adding some earrings, she quickly went through her makeup routine; then she checked her phone.
