[Lady Justice 03] - Lady Justice Gets Lei'd

by Robert Thornhill

  “Many lives were sacrificed here to appease the angry gods, and noble kings, the alii, were laid to rest in the caves formed by lava tubes. It is a place of great mana.”

  “The artifacts that were recently stolen,” I asked, “were they found here?”

  “Many gravesites have been found over the years.

  There are hundreds of caves on the sheer inner face of the crater. And yes, they came from here, but only a few know its exact location. There are many of my people who believe the old bones should not be disturbed.”

  “And how do you feel about that?”

  He thought for a moment. “It is not my place to say.”

  I was about to press our guide further when Willie pointed to the floor of the crater.

  “Is dat people walkin’ down der?”

  Obviously relieved at the abrupt change in subject matter, Liho replied, “Yes, that’s the Sliding Sands Trail. You can actually hike from the parking lot just over there, across the floor of the crater and out the other side. See that V in the crater wall on the other side? That’s Kaupo Gap, and there is a trail that leads out of the crater through the gap to the other side of the island. Let me show you.”

  He led us to the center of the room to a large scale model of the crater. The many trails crisscrossing the park were clearly marked.

  “What are these little dots along the trail?” I asked.

  “Those are primitive cabins that can be rented. It is nearly impossible to hike the trail in a day, so hikers stay in the cabins and complete the hike the next day.”

  Our little group split up to look at the various displays, but I was drawn back to the window and stood gazing into the caldera when Maggie stepped up beside me.

  She took my hand and stood close by my side.

  “I can almost see the molten lava bubbling in the cauldron below,” I said. “And I can imagine the ancient Hawaiians gathered here on this very spot, dancing and chanting and offering their sacrifices to Pele.”

  Maggie slid her arm around my waist. “So it’s not just me then. If what Uncle Ray said was true, I could be related to one of those people who worshipped here or related to one who is buried somewhere out there on that cliff face.”

  I felt her shiver, and I pulled her closer.

  Suddenly there appeared on the eastern edge of the crater rim a dark black cloud. It quickly swept across the mouth of the crater, and within minutes the sun that had shone so brightly was blotted out. The wind swirled around the visitor’s center, and rain pelted against the glass.

  “We need to get back down the mountain,” Liho said.

  By the time we reached the car, the temperature had dropped another ten degrees, and the car shook against the impact of the blustery winds.

  As we drove away from the summit, something in the pit of my stomach told me that we had not seen the last of Madame Pele and the Haleakala Crater.

  CHAPTER 17

  We were exhausted after our mountain top excursion and opted to just enjoy a good meal and a quiet evening, so we headed to old Lahaina Town. We parked in the pay lot by Hilo Hatties and strolled the block to historic Front Street.

  This rugged town, which had once been the whaling mecca of the Hawaiian Islands, had transformed over the years to the tourist mecca of Maui. Both sides of the street were lined with art galleries, restaurants, boutiques, shirt shops, and souvenir stands selling everything from grass skirts to shark tooth necklaces.

  Mary was still intent on finding a size forty-four double D coconut bra, but it seemed the shops catered to less formidable bosoms.

  We passed several restaurants, but nothing seemed quite right until we reached the Lahaina Fish Company.

  We peered into the restaurant and saw that the dining area was actually built out over the ocean, and we could hear the waves lapping the seawall under the tables.

  “Oh, this looks perfect,” Maggie whispered. “See if we can get a table by the rail.”

  Indeed we did, and just as we were seated, we were treated to a glorious sunset as the great orange ball quietly slid behind the silhouette of the island of Lanai across the channel.

  From our vantage point along the rail, we had a perfect view of Lahaina Harbor. A massive cruise ship was anchored several hundred yards offshore, and busy tenders scurried between the ship and the dock carrying tourists and their wallets to eager shop owners. Another smaller, brightly decorated ship set a course parallel to the shore. Our server told us it was the Lahaina Princess making its regular evening sunset dinner cruise.

  As darkness fell, a busboy lit tiki torches that extended from the restaurant out over the water, and their flickering flames danced on the swells breaking against the seawall beneath us.

  Mary peered over the rail to the rocky seawall and exclaimed, “What are those ugly things crawling all over the rocks?”

  We all took turns looking, and sure enough the rocks were alive with black crabs ranging in size from a half dollar to a saucer. As each wave struck the rocky shore, it appeared that the creatures would be washed away, but as the tide receded, they remained firmly attached.

  After taking his turn, I heard Willie mutter, “I had de crabs once. Sho glad dey wasn’t dat big and ugly.”

  That was probably more information than we needed just before dinner.

  After a wonderful meal of monchong, ono, opah, and mahi mahi, we were full and sleepy and decided to call it a day because the next day another adventure awaited us.

  The road to Hana.

  Hana is a small village on the far southeast corner of the island. According to Liho, there’s actually not much there. As the old saying goes, “It’s not the destination but the journey.”

  The highway to Hana is fifty-two miles long and winds along Maui’s eastern coast. What makes the trip so formidable are the fifty-nine one-lane bridges and 620 curves with tropical rainforests on one side and sheer cliffs sometimes dropping hundreds of feet to rocky shores below on the other.

  Before the highway was widened into two lanes, just getting to Hana was a major feat. Shops sold T-shirts proudly declaring, “I survived the road to Hana!”

  Today, if one is careful and you don’t stop to gawk at each of the dozens of waterfalls, you can reach Hana in about three hours.

  Liho picked us up, and we headed back across the island to Kahului. Our hotel was actually on the opposite side of the island from our destination.

  It was going to be a long day.

  The first little village we came to after leaving Kahului was Paia.

  The eastern side of Maui faces the open ocean, and the trade winds come from that direction, so the surf is naturally bigger and rougher on that side. We had seen many regular surfers and kite surfers along the beach, and as we drove through Paia, Liho described the village as “hippie town,” the hangout of choice for Maui’s flower children and surfer dudes.

  I probably wouldn’t be spending much time there.

  As we drove farther from the coastal plain and along the base of the great mountain, the green fields gradually transformed into tropical rainforest. The vegetation was so dense it was impossible to venture more than a few yards off the road.

  We came to hairpin curves with old bridges dating from the 1930s spanning rocky streams carrying water from the summit of the mountain to the sea below. Waterfalls cascaded into icy pools surrounded by stalks of bamboo reaching fifty feet into the air.

  Liho explained that since Maui had no rivers or underground reservoirs, the water supply for the entire island was dependent on the rain that fell in the forests on the mountainside.

  Over one hundred thousand acres of the mountainside was under the control of the East Maui Irrigation System. Seventy-four miles of man-made ditches directed over four hundred and fifty million gallons of water per day to seven reservoirs.

  This was my first exposure to a tropical rainforest, and the lush vegetation enthralled me. Green things of every size and description grew in abundance, from tiny ferns
to huge elephant ears two feet across.

  I made an offhand remark to no one in particular that I wished we had time to explore the forest, and to my surprise, Liho jumped on it right away.

  “Hey, this is your vacation, and if you want to explore the forest, you should do it. We’re not on a time schedule here. In fact, I know of a place coming up at the ten-mile marker I think you will enjoy. It’s actually an access road for East Maui Irrigation. It runs from the highway up into the forest, and they use it to maintain the many miles of water ditches.”

  A few minutes later, Liho pulled to the side of the road next to a metal gate with a sign that read, “No Trespassing.”

  He saw me looking dubiously at the sign.

  “Not to worry. They post signs like that everywhere, but people use this trail all the time. This is a favorite part of the forest for the local pig hunters.”

  “Pig hunters?”

  “Oh yeah. These hills are full of feral pigs. The locals hunt them with dogs. The dogs corner a pig, and the hunters shoot them. Some guys still use knives and spears.”

  “And you’re sure it’s safe?”

  “Absolutely. There is a bamboo forest about seventy-five yards up the trail. You’ll love it. Just take your time, and I’ll wait here by the car.”

  The four of us climbed through the gate, and after walking only a few dozen yards, it felt like we had entered the movie set of One Million Years B.C.

  Huge trees with trunks three feet thick rose a hundred feet, and philodendron vines with leaves as big as your hand hung from the tallest branches. The humidity was so thick you could cut it with a knife, and tiny droplets of water hung on the tips of leafy ferns. A thick, green carpet of moss covered everything, and it seemed that at any moment some huge creature from that bygone era could come crashing through the forest.

  After about fifty yards, the level trail became steep, and we huffed and puffed in the dense heat until we reached the towering bamboo.

  Mary plopped down on a lava outcropping, and sweat dripped from every pore of her body.

  “I can’t go no farther.” She wheezed. “I’m way too old for this shit. You all go ahead. I’m gonna stay right here and catch my breath then head back down to the car.”

  I looked at Maggie, expecting her to follow suit, but to my surprise, she cupped her hand behind her ear.

  “Listen. Isn’t that water rushing up ahead? Let’s go take a look.”

  I looked at Willie.

  “Hey, dis is cool and all, but I’se a city boy. Dis is way more woods dan I need. I’ll stay wit Mary.”

  With that, our merry little band split up, and Maggie and I headed for the sound of the running water.

  After another hundred yards, the trail leveled out, and we came to the source of the rushing water. It was one of the irrigation ditches, about two feet wide and three feet deep, and about a foot of water cascaded along to the waiting reservoir.

  “Oh, look up there,” Maggie squealed.

  I looked in the direction she was pointing and saw that the irrigation ditch seemed to be cut right through the side of the mountain. The path followed along the edge of the ditch, and we marveled at the engineering required to build seventy-four miles of these amazing waterways.

  We continued along the path, and each bend and turn brought new and exciting vistas of the lush forest.

  Maggie grabbed my arm for the umpteenth time and pointed to a tall leafy plant about ten feet off the path.

  “Is that what I think it is?” she said.

  “Well, if you’re thinking it’s a banana tree, you’re probably right.”

  We picked our way gingerly through the brush and stood staring at a stalk of bananas two feet long containing at least thirty pieces of the yellow fruit.

  “Looks like they’re ripe,” I said, and I separated the two bottom bananas from the stem.

  “How cool is this? Here we are in the middle of a rainforest on a tropical island, eating bananas we found growing wild. Kind of like Robinson Crusoe.”

  “Or Tarzan and Jane.” She snickered.

  We walked another hundred yards, munching on our bananas, and came to a fork where another path intersected the one we were on.

  We continued past that intersection, and in a short distance another path from a different direction intersected.

  “Whoa, I think maybe we should turn back. We don’t want to take the wrong turn on one of these paths and get lost up here. It might be days before anyone finds us.”

  “At least we wouldn’t starve.” She giggled.

  We turned to retrace our steps and stopped short.

  Two large Hawaiian men blocked our path.

  I felt Maggie stiffen at my side.

  We just stood there for the longest time, neither of us moving a muscle. I thought I heard footsteps behind me and turned to see two more Hawaiian men at our backs.

  All four men walked to within a few feet of us.

  I turned to the largest of the four. “Look, if we’re not supposed to be here, I apologize. Our guide is at the bottom of the hill waiting for us. If it’s okay, we’ll just head back now.”

  I took a step to the side to go around him, and he blocked my way.

  “Really,” I said, “we don’t want any trouble. We’re just a couple of tourists enjoying your beautiful island. Again, if we’ve done something to offend you, I apologize.”

  I took another step, and he blocked my way again.

  “You will come with us,” was all he said.

  I looked at Maggie and saw the terror in her eyes.

  It took just a moment to assess our situation. There were four very strong Hawaiian guys and two of us. I was unarmed, and I noticed for the first time that two-foot machetes hung from their belts. We were surrounded by impenetrable forest. Our options were limited.

  “Where are you taking us?”

  “No questions. Now go!” He pointed down one of the intersecting paths.

  “Walt, I’m scared,” Maggie whispered.

  “Yeah, me too. But I don’t think we have much choice at this point. At least they haven’t hurt us. Let’s play along.”

  We walked for what seemed like hours through the dense jungle. We passed by waterfalls and crossed old bridges over bubbling streams.

  Our captors never uttered a word. They just kept pushing us resolutely along the trail.

  We came to a circular clearing hollowed out of the forest. Handmade log benches lined the perimeter, and wood was piled in a fire pit in the center of the ring. Two wooden posts were set in the ground in front of the fire pit. A small thatched roof hut sat just outside the circle.

  The tall man pushed us into the ring and pointed to the benches.

  “Sit,” he ordered.

  We sat, and the men who had brought us stood to the side looking expectantly at the hut.

  We heard rustling inside, and two men emerged.

  One of them I had never seen before, but I recognized the other immediately.

  Buddy Kalakoa!

  “Well, well, if it isn’t Walt Williams and Maggie

  McBride. Oh, wait. I guess it’s Mr. and Mrs. Williams now. Congratulations.”

  I just sat there stunned.

  “Buddy, what …?” was all I could say.

  “I’d like you to meet my father, Daniel Kalakoa.”

  “Buddy, what’s this all about?”

  “Oh, I think you know, Walter. We’ve had the conversation several times.”

  “Is this about the artifacts?”

  “It’s about more than just the artifacts, Walt. It’s about Hawaiian independence. It’s about taking back what is rightfully ours. It’s about restoring the Hawaiian kingdom and going back to the old ways.”

  “But your family … your grandfather and uncle …”

  “They were old fools. They sold out to the white man. They turned their backs on our heritage. They took the bones of our alii from their resting place and paraded them around for the world to see
, and they paid for it with their lives.”

  “When they were killed, you were in charge of the exhibit. That’s how the thieves knew back in Kansas

  City which trailer carried the artifacts and how they knew about the container on the barge.”

  “Can’t put anything past you, can we, Walt?”

  “So what now? What does this have to do with us?

  If you hadn’t just told us, we would never have known about your involvement. Why now?”

  “Uncle Ray may have been an old fool, but he also had a connection to the spirit world that has proven valuable to us.”

  “How so?”

  “Do you remember the day in his office when he looked at your sweet bride and called her Hualani, the child of a chief?”

  “So?”

  “So the taking of the sacred artifacts angered the gods. They must be appeased. The artifacts must be returned to their proper place, and a sacrifice must be made. The only sacrifice that will satisfy the goddess

  Pele is one of royal blood. Hualani will be given to the goddess Pele.”

  I jumped to my feet and was immediately tackled by two of the Hawaiian guys.

  “Bind them to the stakes,” he ordered.

  We were each grabbed by two men and taken to the stakes in the middle of the circle. Our hands and feet were bound, and we were left standing there side by side.

  Maggie had not uttered a word since Buddy and his father had come out of the hut.

  I turned to her.

  “Maggie, I’m so sorry—”

  “Stop. It’s not your fault. How could you know that I am somehow related to a Hawaiian king? And whose idea was it to go to the gallery that day? If I didn’t have free tickets, we never would have met Uncle Ray. I don’t know why this is happening to us. All I want to do is be your wife and … and … ”

  She started sobbing.

  It broke my heart to see her cry like that, and all I could do was stand there totally helpless.

  She cried for a while and then became very quiet.

  Finally, she said, “I love you, Walt.”

  “I love you too, Maggie. And somehow we’re going to get out of this.”