“Could we go in there?” Christy asked.
“It’s only an old house turned into a museum,” Marti said. “Missionaries built it when they first came here. I don’t think you’d find it very interesting, Christy.”
“Yes, I would. It looks like a neat house. I’d like to go on the tour.”
“So would I,” Mom said.
For some reason, Marti looked annoyed.
“Go ahead. You have to pay for the tour; it’s not free.” The way she said it, Christy thought it must be a huge fee. “I’ll wait here on the bench.”
Mom and Christy paid their admission fee of a few dollars.
You are so funny, Aunt Marti. You left more money than this on the table for a tip!
The inside of the house looked very American, not tropical at all. There were wooden floors, four-poster beds, blue and white china on the large wooden table, and handmade patchwork quilts on the beds.
The tour began in the bedroom, where Christy noticed the large mosquito net over the bed. The tour guide explained that the missionaries were not popular with the sailors who harbored here every winter because they discouraged the sailors’ immoral lifestyle.
“It’s said that no mosquitoes were on the islands,” the guide stated, “until some sailors tried to get back at the missionaries by dumping a barrel of brackish water into the canal that used to run behind the missionaries’ homes. The barrel came over on a ship from Mexico and was teeming with mosquito larvae. Hence, mosquitoes made their home on the islands.”
One of the women in their little tour group snorted. “What a foolish thing to do!”
The guide went on. “The missionaries were fired on as well but survived the attack. Mind you, this was not the Hawaiian natives attacking them, but their fellow Americans.”
“How did they respond?” someone in the group asked. “Did they retaliate?”
The guide smiled as if she’d been asked that question before. “You must keep in mind, these were God-fearing New England Christians. They stood their ground on what they believed to be right, morally and biblically. It’s been said their only retaliation was to pray for their enemies.”
During the rest of the tour, Christy only took in parts of the guide’s sentences. She had become absorbed with the thought that as God-fearing Christians the missionaries prayed for their enemies.
Todd said he prayed every day for Alissa, and he had told Christy she should pray for Paula. Even though she had agreed with Todd and thought it was a good idea, she hadn’t prayed for Paula once since then. Not that Paula was truly an enemy. She was a friend, just like the American sailors should have been friends with the American missionaries, but their moral standards separated them. In a way, Christy had felt that separation from Paula over her choice of bathing suits and her goal to lose her virginity.
When they rejoined Marti and strolled back to the car, Christy imagined Lahaina’s streets alive with crusty, drunken sailors hurling insults at a pious missionary woman in her long-sleeved dress with her bonnet tipped down, praying for them as she passed by.
All Christy could think about was how much she wanted to talk to Todd about all this, to get his perspective on how to pray. It was one thing for him to tell her she should pray for her friend and another thing to teach her how.
When they arrived at the huge, shady banyan tree, Marti insisted they cross the street and enter Lahaina’s Wharf Cinema Center. She led them to the lower level, marching like a woman who knew right where she was going. Apparently she did, because they entered a shop labeled “TCBY”—The Country’s Best Yogurt.
Marti briskly announced, “This is the only frozen yogurt I’ll eat. Their white chocolate mousse is absolutely divine. Order what you like. I’m paying.”
Christy ordered a small chocolate from the friendly dark-haired guy behind the counter.
“Would you like a topping?” he asked, his white smile peeking out from under his mustache. “The macadamia nuts are really ’ono on the chocolate yogurt.”
“ ’Ono?” Christy asked.
“The best.” He lifted the ladle, ready to scoop the nuts onto her yogurt.
Christy hated nuts. She had always hated nuts. She used to suck the coating off Peanut M&M’s and throw the peanuts away. At this very moment, though, Christy felt adventuresome. “Sure, go ahead. I’ll try the macadamia nuts.”
The guy was right. The macadamia nuts were ’ono! As she scraped the last spoonful out of her cup, she felt proud of herself for trying something new. Todd would be proud of her.
Back at the condo, Christy found Paula napping and Todd still painting, so she joined David on the couch at Bob and Marti’s condo and watched the end of some cartoon. Within minutes she dozed off and was awakened almost an hour later by Marti, who suggested they all go for an evening stroll on the beach.
Christy shook herself awake and, with a string of yawns, found her flip-flops and joined Marti, Mom, and David by the front door. Todd, freshly showered and in clean shorts and a T-shirt, stepped out of the kitchen as Christy was smoothing down her hair.
He gave Christy a smile. “Looks like you had a good nap.”
She could have taken his comment as an insult to her appearance but decided not to take offense. “I was really wiped out.”
“Bob is going to stay and clean up,” Marti said, “and Paula said she’d rather not go this time, so we’re all set.”
Todd walked next to Christy to the elevator. As she began to wake up, all her afternoon thoughts came back to her, and she was anxious to talk them through with Todd. Even though it was a little thing, she couldn’t wait to tell him she had eaten nuts on her yogurt.
“I think I’ll stay behind,” Todd suddenly announced as the elevator door opened and they all filed in. “I’ll check on Paula and help Bob finish up.”
With that, the door sealed, and the elevator lowered them to the ground level.
“If Todd’s not going, then I don’t want to go,” David stated. “I’m going back up.”
“You don’t need to go back, David,” Mom said. “Stay with us. Help me find some shells.”
“I don’t want to go!” David whined. “Can’t I go back up, please?”
“Of course you can,” Marti answered for Mom.
The elevator stopped at the bottom floor, where Mom, Marti, and Christy exited and David shot back up to the sixth floor. Christy could feel Mom watching her, trying to read her feelings, but Christy kept them hidden.
It was impossible, though, for her to enjoy the sunset or the way the warm sand slipped between her toes knowing that Paula and Todd were alone together. It seemed like a very long walk. Mom and Marti contentedly collected tiny shells, and Christy followed them along, bending occasionally to snatch a shell and drop it into her shorts pocket without even looking at it.
When Marti stopped by the condo pool on the way back and began to talk to some people, Christy went up to the condo. Bob was washing out paintbrushes.
“Hi,” she said, hiding her anxiety and distrust. “Where is everybody?”
“I sent Todd across the street for pizza. Paula may have gone with him. David’s in the shower.” He added with a grin, “But then, you weren’t really worried about David, were you?”
Christy smiled and went back to her room to check her appearance in the mirror. A little more makeup, a few more brushes to make her hair fuller, a squirt of perfume. There. If Todd was trying to make a decision between the two of them, she would do her best to make it an easy choice.
“Pizza’s here!” Christy heard Mom call, and she stepped out of her room to find everyone gathered on their lanai to eat.
Paula, apparently revived from the day’s rest, had turned back into her bubbly, fun-loving self and was sitting on the arm of Todd’s chair, gingerly biting into a slice of pizza.
Christy plopped a slice of pizza on a paper plate and took the only spot left, the lounge chair. She felt as if she were separated from the rest of them by an invisible
screen. Lively conversation hummed around the table, but no one directly addressed her.
How can I sit here with my family and friends and feel hopelessly lonely?
Todd excused himself as soon as he had downed three large slices of pizza. “See you all in the morning.”
Bob looked at his watch. “Nine o’clock already! No wonder I’m so tired. Todd, why don’t you take tomorrow off? We pretty well finished up the painting today. I can do the rest myself tomorrow.”
Todd stood by the sliding screen door. “Cool. Might be a good day to go to Hana. Good night, everyone.”
How can you do that, Todd? How can you go a whole day without saying more than one sentence to me?
Todd had spent the whole day around Paula. Was it part of his decision-making process? Maybe he had planned to spend all that time with her to get closer to her so he could decide who he liked more.
The rest of Christy’s pizza went uneaten.
“Where’s Hana?” Mom asked.
Bob explained that Hana was a small community on the other side of the island and that Todd had mentioned that his dad had taken him camping there years ago.
“Sounds like a fun trip for the kids,” Marti suggested. “They can take the Jeep, and Margaret and I can get some more shopping in.”
“Settled,” Bob stated, eyeing the last piece of pizza. “Anybody want another piece?”
Christy excused herself and went to bed, choosing the agony of loneliness over the chance of another confrontation with Paula. She knew she should read her Bible and pray before she went to sleep, but she didn’t want anyone to think she was awake. She lay still for a long time, with her face to the wall. When she did fall asleep, she dreamed about the lonely life of the virtuous missionary woman in Lahaina long ago.
The next morning Paula acted as if no tension had ever existed between the two of them. She complimented Christy on her hair as they shared the bathroom and asked Christy to put some aloe vera gel on her back.
The raging red of Paula’s skin two days ago had toned down to a tender pink, and her shoulders had begun to peel.
“I should’ve listened to you,” Paula admitted. “I’ve never been sunburned like this before.”
“Well, I have to admit that when I went to California last summer Marti kept telling me to use sunscreen, and I didn’t. I got burned too. I even spent a day on the couch, just like you did. Only I moaned a lot more, and the only thing I did all day was sip ice water.”
Paula laughed. “Why didn’t you tell me!”
“I don’t know. You were so set on getting a tan. Some things I guess people have to figure out for themselves.”
“Christy, that’s exactly what I’ve been wanting to tell you.” Paula met Christy’s gaze in the bathroom mirror. “You should know me well enough to know that I’m the kind of person who likes to figure things out for herself. I mean, you might be right about the sunscreen and maybe about some other things. But I have to figure them out for myself. That’s just the way I am.”
“I know. I’m that way too,” Christy said.
“No, you don’t understand,” Paula said. “What I mean is, do us both a favor and stop bugging me about becoming religious.”
“Becoming religious!”
Paula’s tone heightened. “You haven’t stopping bugging me since last summer. First in all your letters, and now that we’re together, you’re so self-righteous about everything. I still can’t believe you brought my old bathing suit along! You have such a perfect little standard for living. That’s fine for you. And you could even be right about God and everything. But I have to figure it out myself.”
Christy blinked but didn’t respond.
Paula looked down and pulled her mascara from her cosmetic bag, untwisting the top and jamming the wand in and out. “I’ve wanted to say that ever since I got here, and I’m glad I finally did, especially since we’re going to be together all day.”
She began to apply her mascara, and Christy could see Paula’s hand was shaking.
“So, if it’s okay with you, let’s go back to being friends the way we’ve always been and let me figure out my life and make my own mistakes.”
Silence hung between them for a moment. Then Christy broke the stalemate by swishing out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. She began to toss things into the straw beach bag Mom had given her.
I’m just trying to help you, Paula, and you don’t even see it. We’re so different now! Things that are important to me mean nothing to you. How can I let you live your life when I see you about to make some major mistakes?
With deliberate steps, Christy marched to the linen closet and yanked out a couple of beach towels. Hugging the towels, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to exhale all her frustrations.
“She’s not pau.” Todd’s words from earlier came back to Christy. “You should be praying for her.”
Just as she was about to piece together a prayer for Paula, David and Todd bounded through the open door. With ice chest in hand and the Jeep keys between his teeth, Todd jerked his head toward the door, motioning Christy to come.
Paula appeared, bright and smiling, and Christy decided she wouldn’t let anything ruin this day. Even when Paula snatched the front seat of the Jeep and settled in, smiling at Todd, Christy made a deliberate effort not to let it get to her.
The four of them sailed down the road with the wind in their hair. It was impossible to hear anyone speak until they came into Lahaina and Todd took a right toward the center of town.
“You want to see the first church the missionaries built here?” Todd asked. “I used to walk past it every day on my way home from school.”
“I thought we were going to the waterfalls,” David griped.
“Yeah,” Paula agreed as Todd drove slowly through a small intersection and into a part of town with lots of old wood houses lining the narrow street.
“I’d like to see it,” Christy said firmly.
“There’s the church right there.” Todd stopped the Jeep under some tall palm trees next to a low stone wall. A sign in front said Waine’e Church.
“This actually isn’t the original one. The first one blew down, and they rebuilt it. Then I think it blew down or burned down again. The missionaries never gave up though. They kept rebuilding the church. This one stayed because they built it the right way, facing the mountains. That way when the Kona winds came, all they had to do was open the front and back doors and let the wild wind blow right through, out to the ocean. Pretty good thinking, huh?”
Paula gave a yawn.
Todd smiled and started up the engine. He looked at Christy over his shoulder. “I studied all this when I was growing up here. I forget not everybody is as interested in the early missionaries as I am.”
“I am!” Christy said, eagerly leaning forward. “My mom and I toured the missionary house.”
“The Baldwin House on Front Street?”
“Yes. I really liked it.” Christy felt an air of satisfaction, knowing she had one up on Paula.
“The very first missionary was Reverend Richardson.” Todd pointed to the graveyard next to the church as he slowly pulled out onto the road. “He’s buried right there. An amazing man. They say he single-handedly stopped the epidemic of smallpox from wiping out Lahaina, and he wasn’t even a doctor.”
“Wow,” Christy said, enjoying Todd’s full attention.
“Is this going to turn into a historical tour?” Paula interjected. “Or are we going to the waterfalls?”
“Yeah!” David protested.
“Okay, okay,” Todd said as the Jeep connected with the main highway and they sped on toward the other side of the island.
Christy sat back satisfied knowing that she and Todd could talk more about the missionaries later, just the two of them, an interest Paula didn’t share.
She felt something more than a shared interest with Todd in the missionaries. She couldn’t explain why, but she felt awed and thrilled when s
he thought about men and women who loved God so much that they didn’t give up, even when their church blew down. She had admired their perseverance when she toured the Baldwin House.
A little ways past the airport, they slowed to go down what appeared to be the main street of a funky-looking little town. Just before they reached the town, Todd shouted, “Right up here is the wind-surfing capital of the world. You guys want to stop and watch?”
“No!” David answered. “Not unless we can go swimming there.”
Todd smiled over his shoulder. “Okay, David. We’ll get you to a waterfall. Hang on. It’s going to be a long, winding road.”
During the next few miles, the road became narrower and narrower. Around every bend and curve, they met another bend and curve.
Christy thought it all looked like she imagined old Hawaii to have been—waterfalls were tucked behind valleys that were carpeted with huge ferns; bright flowers literally grew out of the rocks; exotic birds sang in the overhanging trees; and every now and then simple little tin-roofed houses built on stilts appeared.
Because the Jeep was open, everything seemed close up. Christy felt that if she were quick enough, she could pick flowers and ferns as they passed them.
The scenery stayed like that for mile after winding mile. On they traveled, bump after bump, curve after curve, sliding through tight spots in the road. Twice they had to stop and back up so an oncoming car could get by. Christy figured they must have driven for more than three hours already.
“Can’t they do something about improving this road?” Paula exclaimed after a swift curve brought her dangerously close to the jagged volcanic rock wall on her side of the Jeep.
“Actually they have,” Todd said. “When my dad and I used to come out here camping, it was much worse.”
“Worse!” Paula squeaked. “How could it be worse?”
“Parts of it weren’t paved. It was gravel and dirt and very muddy when it rained.”
Christy Miller Collection, Volume 2 Page 23
