by Lynn Shurr
The sulky teenager poked her head through the open doorway. “What do you want?”
“The palagi woman wants to talk to you.”
Pala made a move to enter the house, but Winnie dropped her hand and said, “Alone.”
The interior seemed dim after being outside in the bright sun, and the air was stuffy despite all the louvered windows being open to let in air. A better day to be on the beach than cooped up here, Winnie thought. Alisi, a round-faced girl she remembered from the fiafia, sat on a mat where she and her friend had been pursuing movie magazines and digging into large bags of potato and breadfruit chips that weren’t going to reduce the size of the plump belly under her lava-lava. A couple cans of Coke rested among the snacks.
“None of my business, but shouldn’t the two of you be in school?”
“School is boring. I dropped out and got a GED last year. Alisi doesn’t feel well so I’m keeping her company.” Lita threw herself down carelessly and began paging through the magazines again.
Despite the evidence piled around them that she could hardly be sick and eat all that junk, Alisi asked politely, “Would you like a drink, some food?”
“No, thanks, just some conversation.” Winnie noticed a shadow outside one of the open windows. She swore when Pala’s youthful beauty faded and she’d had a few babies to expand her figure, she would become the village eavesdropper. Well, let her listen.
“Lita, no matter what anyone says about you, I believe you are a very clever girl.”
Beneath the heavy eye makeup and red lipstick, teenager smirked. “Maybe.”
“Lila Tomanaga told me you heard rumors about a moetotolo being on the loose but did not believe them.”
“I was wrong.” The girl looked sidelong at her friend who stared into the open can of Coke as if it contained holy visions. “The moetotolo existed. He caught Alisi out one night and forced himself on her, threatened her if she screamed or told. Now there will be a baby. Soon everyone will notice. Tell her, Alisi.”
The other girl kept her eyes lowered and shook her head.
“You can speak now. He can’t hurt you.” The pregnant teen stayed mute.
“Alisi wasn’t the only one. I know of at least two other girls. He said they were bad to be out at night, and he had needs, great needs that were not being met. Since they were already corrupt, no one would believe them if they accused him. He was strong. They did what the big matai told them to do. They couldn’t get away.”
“But you did. Isn’t that right, Lita?”
The girl shrugged in a world weary way. “The boy I walked with on the beach ran away. Afraid the matai will beat them, they always do. He left me behind for the moetotolo to take.”
“You screamed and fought because you are braver and bolder than the others”
“Yes! Lila Tomanaga told me God would forgive me and look after me if I gave up my wicked ways. I guess He did. When the moetotolo tried to cover my mouth, he knocked me against the palm tree. One of the coconuts fell and hit him right on top of the head. He collapsed. I didn’t know whether he was dead or not, but I wanted to make sure he never hurt me or my friends again. I bashed him as hard in the face as I could with the weapon God put in my hands and ran away. I haven’t gone with a boy since because God protected me from a rapist.”
That would be all of three days of celibacy, but Winnie did not point out this fact. “Just to be perfectly clear, the rapist was Sammy Tau.” She thought she heard a small gasp outside the window as she pronounced the name.
Lita gave her a sly smile and raised her voice. “Yes, my sister was going to marry a moetotolo. I saved her and the rest of my friends, too.”
“Why did you let people believe Adam Malala killed Sammy?”
“I offered myself to him and he rejected me. I would have made a better wife for him than Pala or you. I want to get out of this village, off this island. I want to live it the States and have lots of money, not stay here and preserve the old ways. Besides, I knew Adam would be let off. I read the magazines. Famous people never get convicted. But I would be. Don’t expect me to go running to the police to confess. Alisi won’t tell what she heard and my sister will be too embarrassed to speak about it.”
“You were defending yourself—and it could have been death by coconut, strange as that seems.” Now who was grasping at straws?
The unfortunate Alisi giggled when Winnie said that until Lita poked her in the belly with a finger across the display of chips and soft drinks. “Yes, death by coconut. That’s what it was. I bet Sammy Tau died before I hit him. Do you think there will be a reward for information, enough to get me off this stinking island?”
“Maybe. I will have to ask Adam’s lawyer, but it would be better by far to confess now. Otherwise, people might think you were paid to make up a story.” Clever, not stupid, Winnie thought again, and let her words sink into the girl’s calculating mind.
Lita cocked her head and considered. “I can tell them where I scratched Sammy on the cheek and bit him on his fat breast. I will give the police the name of the boy with me that night. He is part of Sammy’s ’aiga and does not want to come forward to bring shame on the family.”
The teenager took a long drag on her Coke as if it contained fortifying alcohol. Maybe it did. “Besides, God saved me. Maybe if Pastor Tomanaga went with me to the police, I would not be put in jail. Later, Adam might give money to the matai for a scholarship on the mainland. I know I am worthy of such a scholarship.”
Well, no, Winnie thought, but the matai would be glad to be rid of the poor example Lita set for the village girls, and that might be enough incentive. “I’m sure you are.”
“What colleges do you have in New Orleans?”
Winnie’s mama did not raise an idiot child. “I think you would be happier on the west coast. Maybe in Los Angeles where you might see movie stars from time to time.” She had no desire to drop in on Adam one day and find Lita and half a dozen of her girlfriends staying at his place because island hospitality demanded it.
“Movie stars, I would like that.”
“Me, too!” the excited Alisi said. “I mean I could visit after I have my baby.”
Winnie began to see how things worked in the village, slow and roundabout, but in the end, everyone got what they needed. “When will you go to Reverend Tomanaga, Lita?”
“Today, tomorrow, pretty soon.”
Winnie dearly wanted to wipe the makeup from Lita’s face and frog-march her to the parsonage right this minute, but she knew haste was not the Samoan way. “Sounds good,” she made herself say. “Thank you.”
Outside, Winnie saw no sign of Pala and walked back to the Malala house alone. Her welcome was not as warm as it had been with Adam around. She guessed fish and guests stank after three days in Samoa as well as anywhere else. However, she helped Ela squeeze the grated coconut to make a corned beef pulasami for dinner. When the children returned from school, she assisted them with their simple arithmetic problems, let them practice their English on her, and generally kept the little girl out from under Ela’s big feet. Being useful, one of her strong points, Winnie figured.
The day passed painfully into evening as if the sun walked carefully across hot coals. An older couple, both of substantial belly size, came to visit Ela and Noa, and passed a few polite words with Winnie on the porch before going inside to hold a lengthy conversation in Samoan. The children nested for sleep in Adam’s makeshift bed, which they seemed to prefer to all other places. She gave up waiting for his return and went inside for the night.
Winnie decided to spend the next day at the clinic close to the parsonage where she might notice if the Jeep left with Lita in it. Eventually, it did. She wished she could stick out a thumb and hitch a ride into Adam’s arms, but knew her influence over the girl’s confession would not help his case one bit. The afternoon rains came with extra force since they had skipped a day and had to make it up. She watched the water cascade from the sky, another kind of waterfall
that only made her think of Adam and their visit to Nu’uuli Falls.
Lua embraced her shoulders. “Do not worry. The matai and the Sinners will not let Adam go to jail.”
“The Sinners, sure. They would hate to be out a cornerback, but the matai seem to think he is guilty the way they locked him up.”
“Things are not always what they appear to be here. Have patience.”
Borrowing an umbrella at the end of the day, she reluctantly went back to the house where she now felt unwelcome. Ela’s mood had changed like the weather. She hummed as she prepared the evening meal. Somehow, that made Winnie more uneasy than her suppressed hostility. What was going on? What did no one tell her?
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Winnie visited Lila and her baby the next morning and discussed what she had learned from Lita. “I was a help then in saving Adam. I am so glad,” the new mother said. “Davita told me some of this, but not the details. I must pray for the soul of Sammy Tau.”
She invited Winnie to stay for a bite to eat, and when the phone rang, was much more forthcoming than Ela. “Adam is free. They are coming home this afternoon.”
“I should go tell his parents.”
“I am sure they know already. He would have called them first.”
But not me. Why hadn’t Adam asked to speak to her? Winnie lingered with Lila and the baby until late afternoon when she thought the Jeep might arrive based on her other trips to Pago. Her timing proved to be correct. As she neared the house, the bright yellow Jeep rolled down the rutted road at a very sedate speed to keep from running over or leaving behind the adults, children, and dogs running beside it and following. A cheer went up when Adam stepped down from the vehicle.
Taboo or not, Winnie raced toward him. She half-expected him to stop her at arm’s length, but he did not. Adam folded her into an embrace and accepted her jubilant kiss. When Winnie opened her eyes again, she noticed just over his broad shoulder Ela’s face harden into lines of disapproval that aged her ten years. Beside Adam’s mother, Noa smiled with unadulterated glee. Other people made up the welcoming group on the porch, the couple from last night and Pala, all of them displaying deep frowns. The old childhood threat about ugly faces freezing that way came to Winnie’s mind.
Lita emerged from the backseat to be engulfed by her hugging girlfriends including the pregnant Alisi. Davita turned off the engine and got down. He suggested a prayer. The crowd bowed heads and fell silent. He thanked God the truth had come out and freed an innocent man, that His mighty hands sent the coconut to bring down the guilty, but also asked them to pray for the soul of the departed. Amen.
Ela clapped her hands to draw attention. In a clear, strong voice, she announced, “Still more good news, my friends. The wedding between my son and Pala will go on as planned in May.”
Pala stood there between her parents doing her blushing maiden routine, eyes downcast, hands folded in front of her, but she raised her tawny lids just enough to send Winnie a very smug look. The woman must have hotfooted home after Lita’s confession and babbled to her parents. No sense in grieving over a rapist, back to Plan A. Oh, they would send Sammy off with a church funeral, condolences to the family, and a hearty meal, but the gifts for such a corrupt man need not be lavish. On with the wedding!
Winnie’s knees weakened. Adam’s arm held her close. He answered in an equally loud, firm voice. “No! The engagement was broken. I will not marry Pala. I want Winnie.”
“You refuse to honor the wishes of your elders?” Ela asked.
“Yes.”
“Then you are not my son.” She turned and moved back into the fine house that son provided for her. Noa hesitated, came down the steps first to embrace his son and whisper a few words, then follow his wife inside. Pala, shielding her face with her hands, dashed into the crowd to be trailed at a more dignified pace by her outraged parents. Her mother kept repeating the same phrase as she went among the people. Adam translated it as saying, “My daughter has many other offers.”
Lita, standing nearby, laughed cruelly and commented, “Yes, from old, fat men. I guess I should go with them, but they aren’t going to thank me for what I’ve done. Adam, you must get me out of here soon!” Hips swaying more provocatively than Pala at her best, the lesser sister went after her family.
Adam put a hand on Davita’s sleeve. “After we gather our things, will you take us back into the city?”
“Of course, my friend, but I think you should stay and work things out with your parents.”
“If they had bothered to consult me, this could have been done in a more private manner. My father says he understands and has no quarrel with me. Once he was forced into a marriage, too, and never found the courage to leave because my mother’s family was so powerful. That answers a few questions I’ve had all my life. I cannot bend on this. Let’s get packed, Winnie.”
Since they’d come to the village with little more than lava-lavas and Sunday clothes, that task took no time at all. Winnie found her cell phone forgotten on the bedside table. It held a message about his being freed thanks to her efforts. Whether he called her first or second no longer mattered. Adam had chosen her over Pala.
Like a good son, Adam muscled the mattress off the porch and back into the bedroom before they left, but got no thanks for the job. Ela stayed in the kitchen and refused to speak to him. Noa did see them off and tacitly gave them his blessing. Soon they would be on their way to Hawaii again, then Louisiana. Thank God and death by coconut.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The tickets for their departure lay on the small hotel table with the vase of red ginger. Not easy to get at the last minute, Adam had scored the last two seats in first class for the flight by uprooting the Sinners’ lawyers who had arrived only to find their services were no longer needed. He put them up at the same hotel and told them to enjoy a few days in the islands at his expense. The heat and humidity had the attorneys out of their suits and basking their pale bodies, alcoholic drinks served in a coconut in their hands, by the pool within hours.
Adam and Winnie made love in the morning and left the sheets rumpled on their last day in Samoa. He let her have the use the bathroom first since Winnie wanted to make a last minute excursion to the stores for family souvenirs. Adam planned to shower while she shopped, and she knew he would spend almost as much time drying his hair as she did, though he didn’t give a damn about frizz. At the moment, he lingered over another mammoth Samoan breakfast, liberally dousing some fried plantains with ketchup and perusing a newspaper with an article about his release. Yes, the headline did read “Death by Coconut Declared.”
She left for a couple of hours and purchased puletasi for her mother, grandmother, Mintay, and Nell, lava-lavas for her niece, Riley, and all of Nell’s girls. Knowing better than to present any of Joe’s sons or her nephews with a skirt by any other name, she got the boys a whole fleet of small, carved Polynesian canoes she thought they might like to race in the swimming pool. For Joe Dean Billodeaux who inadvertently brought her and Adam together, she selected an ’ava bowl to sit on his bar. Then, realizing the extant of her purchases, found a suitcase that would hold the lot. One good thing about traveling first class with a Sinner, no worries about extra baggage.
Another matter did niggle in her mind—she hated being the cause of a rift between Adam and his family, of severing him from a way of life he admired but found too confining. As he held her in his arms the previous night, he kept assuring her the decision to make his life entirely in the States had been a long time in coming. Meeting her only sealed the deal.
His father had confirmed what he long suspected, that his mother had gotten pregnant and married into a lesser ’aiga than her own. Ela’s only hope to regain lost status rested in her son, his marriage, and his future. He possessed a fortune, much to give away and become a matai, enough to raise himself up to the territory’s congress, the fono, with the presentation of many gifts.
“Bribes, you mean?”
; “No, lovely Winnie. Generous gifts for which I expect no return. It is how we gain status.”
“And votes?”
“Well, yes, but I have no desire to serve in the fono. I will always send gifts and money home because it is our way even if I never return. Do you understand?”
“I can accept that.”
She hoped he had no regrets later and would encourage him to visit once the bad feelings died down. Look at her, making plans about a future with Adam Malala when he had not proposed or even said directly that he loved her. He wanted her more than Pala. That would have to do for a while.
****
Adam polished off the plantains and had a second cup of coffee, so much weaker than the kind served in Louisiana. No need to hurry if he knew anything about women and shopping. Winnie wouldn’t be back for hours. He tossed his confining robe on the unmade bed and headed naked to the bath on the other side of the suite. A light rap sounded.
“Done shopping already? Forget your key?” He wrapped a towel around his waist just in case the knock came from someone other than Winnie and went to answer.
Pala stood on the other side of the door. Her long hair lay tangled in a provocatively sensual way, and she wore a fresh red hibiscus flower possibly plucked from the hotel’s shrubs behind one ear. Though she had creases in her lava-lava from a long drive, her skin smelled of fragrant coconut oil, not pigs or other people on a bus.
“How did you get here? They aren’t supposed to give out my room number at the desk.”
She stepped inside the room and quietly closed the door. “Lila let me borrow the Jeep. I told her I needed to get away after yesterday’s embarrassment. As for the other, one of my aunties is a maid here and very pleased I came to visit for a short time.”
She placed a hand, so good at weaving fine mats, preparing ’ava, and moving gracefully in the siva dancing, on his cheek. Her fingers moved down his tight jaw and roamed over his chest, the very first time she had touched him intimately.
