Jewel of the Pacific

by Linda Lee Chaikin

  Aunt Lana arrived breathing hard.

  “Anything I can do?” she whispered to her husband.

  “I believe he’s just had a serious heart attack.”

  Eden stood, her emotions in limbo, as if she stood on the outside of a window looking in, unable to hear what was being said but watching people moving about urgently.

  She stirred, then went to her father’s bed and pulled back the blanket.

  “Help me get him to the bed,” Bolton said to Lana. Eden fell back upon her skills as a nurse. She had thought herself prepared for her father’s emotional breakdown, but she hadn’t considered it being initiated with a heart attack.

  After they’d gotten him into bed, Dr. Bolton continued watching over him.

  While Dr. Bolton cared for Jerome, Lana held Eden, whose face was wet with tears. Lana took her to the cottage, and told her to lie down.

  “Rest, dear, there’s nothing more you can do now,” she said, as she left the room to go help Dr. Bolton with Jerome.

  In the following days Eden’s father remained bedridden and under Dr. Bolton’s care. “If only I had access to the facilities at Kalihi,” he said to Brother Ira Dutton who’d come by to see if there was anything he could do.

  “The schooner will arrive in two weeks,” Dutton said.

  “I fear we couldn’t move him now anyway.”

  Eden had written Ambrose with not just the news of Rebecca’s death, but now Dr. Jerome’s illness. The delayed communication with Honolulu was such a trial. It took weeks to send a letter and weeks to get a return message, all depending on the dates the steamer came and went. She was accustomed to writing a note and sending a boy to deliver it within the hour. Now she must wait for weeks to send for Ambrose. As Brother Dutton had said, the schooner wouldn’t arrive anytime soon.

  She gave the letter to Dutton who handled the mail. He always picked the postal bag up from the general store and brought it down to the beach on the day when the Board of Health steamer arrived.

  Aunt Lana was the one who handled her older sister, Rebecca’s, funeral. She had the Bible instructor from the small Protestant church meeting lead in prayer and read about the resurrection of Christians from 1 Corinthians 15, followed by the children’s choir.

  On the morning after Rebecca’s funeral, Eden opened her door to step out and found a selection of flowers and ferns in a little woven basket. A piece of paper had ink printing from the press and a drawing of a gate opening toward a rainbow with hovering doves. A bluebird was flying away toward the open gate. “Free at last,” was printed below the bird as well as a verse from Scripture: “We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord.”

  The paper was signed simply Also waiting, David, 2 Corinthians 5:8.

  A week after Rebecca died, the kokua, Lotus, came down from Bishop House to Eden’s bungalow. The girl carried something in her arms wrapped protectively with a blue scarf.

  “This is yours, Miss Derrington. Mother Marianne gave it to me this morning to bring to you. She says, may you have peace and the good will of God all your days.”

  Eden knew it must be the journal Rebecca had told her about. She took it carefully, and thanked her. “And may both of you know the joy and peace that only Jesus can bring.”

  “Aloha,” the girl murmured and turned away.

  “Before you go, Lotus, I wanted to tell you that a gift will come to you from Honolulu after I’ve returned to my grandfather’s plantation. The gift is for your kindness to my mother and for your faithful service to her.”

  Lotus smiled, her eyes shining, and murmured her gratitude. Eden looked after the girl. She had plans for Lotus. Some pretty clothes, some shiny costume jewelry, and enough money to live on comfortably while she waited out her days at Bishop House.

  The parcel in her hands shone in the sunlight. The journal, she knew, would reveal pathos and bring more tears. Clasping it, she went back inside her bungalow.

  She could begin reading it that afternoon, or perhaps during the evening. She might even wait until she returned to Honolulu. At the moment the larger details of her mother’s sojourn on the isle of exiles could wait for a less climactic time.

  But there was one piece of information she wanted to know before leaving Kalawao—whose child was Kip? Was there another name for the baby boy Rafe had rescued from the incoming tide that day on the beach?

  The journal and its telling content could wait for a sunnier day when her heart was less heavy and willing to be buffeted by its contents. Now, with all that had happened, and her father bedridden, tomorrow’s uncertainties were enough without delving into the past.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Yesterday’s Secrets

  As the days turned to weeks, Kalawao’s weather worsened. Sometimes the sunshine was absent for days, and the ocean waves were ruthless.

  Eden read Rebecca’s journal from the beginning to the end. The saga told in descriptive form the numbing isolation of her early arrival at the camp and of her eventual acceptance of “these light afflictions, which are but for a moment.”

  Then came the shocking mention of a baby boy. When Eden looked at the date, it lined up with Kip’s age. Rebecca told of her first kokua being violated by a haole visitor on Molokai, resulting in the birth of a baby boy. “He was drinking, and when he drinks he is unreasonable and cruel. Had I not been so far along in the dread disease he would have violated me. But he feared to touch me. He held no fear, however, of a sin against God! Leah was always an attractive woman and she told me later that she’d known him in Honolulu.”

  So Kip is not Rebecca’s child, she thought, feeling neither relief nor disappointment. She’d been ready to accept the truth, regardless. After meeting with Rebecca and seeing how far her mother had deteriorated, Eden had already begun to have doubts before reading the diary. Kip could not be much older than three years old, and conception would have occurred four years ago. Even then, Rebecca would have been into the later stages of leprosy.

  Eden read on: “So Leah had the baby,” Rebecca wrote. “The man responsible, whose name is well known in Honolulu, came here on a trip with the Board of Health.”

  Eden gasped and gripped the journal. “What?” she breathed. “Oh no! Oh what can this mean?”

  Her eyes rushed through the words to find the name of Kip’s father, but she could not find it. Oh! She took in a deep breath to calm herself. Then she went back and read from the beginning again. The name must be there—

  “The baby is a beautiful healthy boy who deserves to live regardless of the brutal way he was brought into this sin-cursed world. Leah and I have prayed together of what to do. We could turn him over to the boys’ orphanage run by the priest, Damien, but Leah is reluctant. So I have a plan to save him.”

  Eden went on reading how Rebecca planned to have Leah bring the baby to Rafe Easton, who was on Kalaupapa at the time serving as a journalist for Great-aunt Nora’s Gazette. Rafe was to take the baby to Dr. Jerome.

  As Eden already knew, Rafe had not been able to meet with her father, who had left the area. Rafe had ended up taking the baby whom he’d temporarily named “Kip.”

  But who was responsible for Leah becoming pregnant? Did anyone at Bishop House know? Priest Damien? Brother Dutton? Would Lotus know? No, probably not Lotus, but possibly Mother Marianne—

  Then Eden saw the man’s name and her heart jumped. Townsend Derrington, powerful member of the Hawaiian Legislature visited Kalaupapa in 1889 with Charles Billings, sent by King Kalakaua and the Board of Health to report on the condition of the hospital.

  “Leah had known him in Honolulu,” her mother had written.

  Eden went on to read that Townsend had recommended that Grandfather Ainsworth send a woman named Leah to become Rebecca’s kokua.

  Eden sat in silence, allowing the shocking information to settle in her mind. What would Townsend have done had he known the baby boy, Kip, that meant so much to Rafe, was a child he�
��d fathered? Would he have tried to gain jurisdiction over him to hurt Rafe? Of course he would have! And worse, Townsend was probably the one who’d anonymously informed the Board of Health that Kip was taken from Molokai. Oh, she put nothing past Townsend!

  She stared at the journal. She was probably the only person alive who knew Kip’s parentage.

  How would Rafe respond if he knew? Would it change his feelings toward the boy? Had he adopted him yet? But Townsend had blond hair and cold blue eyes; Kip had dark hair and light greenish eyes—which must come from his mother, Leah.

  Oh may Townsend never come back to the Islands!

  Eden wondered what she should do with the information. Tear it out of the journal and burn it? Safeguard Kip’s future and keep Rafe from looking at his adopted son and thinking of Townsend?

  Could she keep the diary under lock and key for the next fifty years? If she did, there would always be the chance that someone, someday, would discover the diary.

  This must be a matter of much prayer. Whatever I do, I must act in wisdom.

  During her days in the little hospital Eden aided the sick by distributing medicine to ease their suffering: protiodide of mercury, half-grains of opium and potassium arsenite, and small amounts of watered laudanum.

  Dr. Jerome had improved but was confined to bed rest.

  “And if I see you trying to get up again, I’ll keep you sedated,” Bolton told him gruffly.

  Jerome smiled wanly. “As you say, Doctor.”

  As the days turned into weeks, Jerome manifested severe depression and would hardly eat.

  “I wish Pastor Ambrose would arrive,” Bolton told Eden.

  Ambrose did arrive—not on the steamer as they’d expected, but on the Minoa with Captain Keno and two of his cousins who offered their services, including getting Dr. Jerome aboard.

  “We’ll need to carry him,” they explained. “He’ll need to be held steady on the whaleboat, and that won’t be easy in the rough sea.”

  “We’ll manage,” Keno said.

  Ambrose, in his old worn frock coat and black hat, had walked into Jerome’s bungalow and up to the side of the bed.

  “The attack was severe this time,” Jerome told him, his voice weak. “Thank you for coming, friend.”

  He reached a frail hand toward Ambrose who took it between his own tanned hands, and shook his head.

  “It’s time you went home to Kea Lani.” He gestured to Keno and the two young Hawaiian men standing with arms folded across their chests.

  “I brought my army,” Ambrose taunted. “You have no say in the matter. It’s home to Honolulu for a long rest.”

  “And when you get better you can return,” Dr. Bolton said with forced cheerfulness. “Meantime Lana and I will manage your clinic and keep the research going.”

  “I’ve every confidence in you, Clifford. Lana, too … I don’t want to depart, but if I must, I can leave this work to two of the finest researchers in all the Islands.”

  “We’ll try not to let you down.”

  “I’m the one who’s let everyone down—especially Rebecca.”

  “No, Jerome,” Ambrose said firmly. “Rebecca is far better off with the Lord than suffering here in this camp. God called her home. He never makes timing mistakes. ‘My times are in thy hand,’ wrote the psalmist.”

  They left the bungalow to give Jerome some quiet. Eden hadn’t yet told Ambrose or Keno that she was also returning to Honolulu. Keno walked with her toward her bungalow. Something appeared to be on his mind. She broke the silence, and asked, “When will the Minoa lift anchor?”

  “We intend to start for shore in the morning. We have a litter all ready for your father.” He reached inside his shirt. “Candace wanted me to bring you her letter.” He handed her a sealed envelope addressed in the recognizable flowing hand of her cousin.

  “Oh, delightful. I hope she fills me in on all the social news going on in Honolulu.”

  “Oh, she will, all right.”

  Something in his response alerted her. She looked at him. He brushed his hair from his forehead and looked up at the sky. “Getting windy. I—I better get you in the bungalow and get back to Ambrose. He’ll be over to see you in a little while.” He smiled. “See you later on.”

  Eden watched him with her curiosity afire. He was behaving unusually. What was he uncomfortable about? She looked at the envelope in her hand. “Yes, and thank you—oh, Keno, by the way, I’m returning to Honolulu with my father. For the present, I have accomplished what I wanted here on Molokai.”

  He turned back and looked at her, and she could not tell if his reaction was surprise or concern.

  “Oh,” he said quietly. “You are, are you?”

  An odd response. Almost as if he were seeing a bunch of new troubles.

  “Okay,” he said quickly. “I’ll have your things brought out first thing in the morning then.”

  “Thank you.”

  He walked away toward Ambrose who stood by Jerome’s bungalow talking with Dr. Bolton.

  Eden entered her bungalow to read Candace’s letter:

  Dear Eden,

  I hope you’re surviving on that dreadful place. Ambrose and Keno both have told me about everything that’s happened. I’m sending this letter through Keno because, woman to woman, I can best tell you what’s happening in Honolulu.

  You may know by now, if Ambrose has mentioned it to you that Rafe is back in Honolulu. Remember our 24-hour prayer vigil for him? God be praised. He’s all right again. He can see!

  He hasn’t wasted any time either. He’s already rebuilding the burned sections of Hanalei. He’s also more involved than ever in the annexation movement. There looks to be a showdown coming over the 1887 Constitution. Great-aunt Nora is afraid there will be a strong move against the queen.

  I do not know what happened between you and Rafe after his injury, but the mention of your name angers him. Rafe seems to be a different person than he was before this tragedy struck.

  I am not the only one who notices this change. Keno mentioned it to me first. If anyone understands Rafe, it is Keno and Ambrose, yet they agree that he has changed.

  Keno says Rafe is a walking thunderstorm ready to hurl lightning bolts. That is not all. When Rafe returned to Honolulu, he did not come back with just Zachary. Celestine and Kip are at Hawaiiana, and Parker Judson is here with his niece Bernice Judson.

  Rafe is spending quite a few of his evenings with the Judsons. Bernice gives dinners and balls several times a week with a lot of Honolulu society—including the Hunnewells. Poor little Claudia is extremely angry over Zachary’s “passion” for Bernice.

  On the other hand, the “bright new star” of Honolulu, Miss Bernice Judson, is making her biggest play yet for Rafe. He appears to be giving her an open door!

  And so dear cousin, I would advise you to return as soon as possible. If you do not, I sincerely believe a surprising new engagement announcement may come in the next six months. The last I saw Rafe he was riding about Honolulu in a fancy carriage with Bernice.

  Your worried cousin, who is also your best friend,

  Candace

  Eden, angry, hurt to tears, and feeling hopeless, grabbed the nearest thing she could get her hands on and hurled it at the cottage door just as Ambrose called out and tapped at the door.

  Eden flung her hand to her mouth and stared. Oh no!

  “Eden? Are you all right?”

  “Yes, come in. The door’s not bolted.”

  She placed Candace’s letter on her table and pushed it out of sight.

  Ambrose entered, picked up the book on the founding of the Hawaiian alphabet by Hiram Bingham, and raised a bushy brow.

  “Was this meant for my poor head or for Rafe Easton’s?”

  So he knew. Of course he would.

  “That scoundrel.” She turned her back and held in her tears.

  Ambrose closed the door. “Yes, he can be one when he wishes. Right now he’s enjoying the role.”

  �
��Is he,” she said bitterly, “how nice for him—and ‘Bunny.’”

  “Now, now. I hear you’re coming back with us in the morning. I am pleased, lass. You’ve made the right decision.”

  “Yes, and I’d already decided on going back before getting Candace’s letter.” She faced him, taking back the prized volume and setting it down gently with her other books. “So no one should think I’m rushing to Honolulu because of Rafe and Bernice.”

  “It may be a wise idea, Eden, to let Rafe know you do care what happens between him and Miss Judson.”

  “He already knows how I feel,” she said. “Anyway, I don’t know why I should be surprised.” She looked at him. “About Rafe, I mean. I discussed with you on the ship that Rafe has cared about Parker Judson’s niece for a long time, even before he became serious with me.” She thought of the picture and birthday card she had discovered in his cabin aboard the Minoa.

  “Rafe may, or he may not be serious about seeing Miss Judson. I know he has become angry with you. I believe that’s the cause for most of his recent actions.”

  Angry with me, she thought. I’m the one wronged, not Mr. Easton.

  “Well, lass, he does have his vision again. God has treated him with loving-kindness in that important regard.”

  She had to admit she was glad to hear this news.

  “I have hope that all these difficult issues can be worked out in due season,” Ambrose said. “They can be, if misunderstandings are addressed before even larger ones bring their harvest. And mark my words: they will bring much unhappiness if stubbornness and pride reign in both of you. Regret will come calling in the future. The harvest will be a bitter one.”

  When Ambrose departed, Eden just stared at the closed door.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Return to Honolulu

  A restive spirit had settled over Honolulu, and Eden’s emotions seemed to match its turmoil. No sooner had she returned to Kea Lani than a flurry of extended conflicts—of both family and Island politics—knocked at her door.

  Now that she’d returned to Oahu, sooner or later she was bound to meet Rafe again. How would she react? She refused to let her heart dwell on their past. What was the good of it? The trial at Hanalei and losing his sight had caused him to confront his heart. In so doing he must have decided what he had previously tried to reject—that he was still in love with Bernice Judson.