Spoils of Eden

by Linda Lee Chaikin

  Chapter Nineteen

  Candace’s Sacrifice

  They met Zachary at the wharf to take the ferryboat around Waikiki and Diamond Head to Maunalua Bay by Koko Head Crater. It was around twelve miles down the coastline to Tamarind House. Clouds were accumulating over the Pacific, reminding her of an invading army, and the wind was warm and damp with the feel of oncoming rain.

  Arriving at the wharf, Eden and Dr. Jerome walked along the wooden planking to where boats, large and small, were anchored. The wind smelled heavily of the sea and fish. Shells were piled here and there along the beach where fishing nets were spread.

  Her father motioned ahead on the wharf toward the Kilauea, an older boat that was now being used for ferrying. There was a sign over the cabin that read, “Tickets.” Zachary appeared on the boat, the wind tossing his blond hair and pale blue jacket. He waved at them. “Over here!”

  Soon after boarding, the captain gave the order to free the boat from the pier, and it was rowed a safe distance away before the crew raised the sails. They began moving through the swells as the boat pitched, giving Eden a sense of unsteadiness. She clung to the side rail as the water parted beneath the hull and the sea breeze dampened her face.

  “How did Uncle Jerome’s meeting with the Legislature go?” Zachary asked.

  She was surprised he knew of it. “Who told you about the meeting?”

  He shrugged. “I ran into Rafe last night coming out of Hillsdale’s house. He mentioned it.”

  Clark Hillsdale was a leading annexationist and a close friend of Parker Judson. “Rafe is in Honolulu?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

  “No, not today. When I ran into him last night, he was on his way back to Hanalei.”

  “Are you hinting that Rafe may have had something to do with the Legislatures delay in authorizing the clinic?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t think it’s much of a secret. He’s already told Dr. Bolton and anyone else who’ll listen that he doesn’t want you going with Jerome to Molokai.”

  Was that the reason Rafe had seen Clark Hillsdale on the eve of her father’s appointment with the Legislature?

  She watched the green foliated hills on her left, which rose steeply out of the Pacific. The water was less rough as they sailed past Honolulu Harbor with the Koolau Mountain Range in the background, which isolated them from windward Oahu. As they sailed past Waikiki Beach, Jerome pointed out Diamond Head crater towering above the coastline. The ancient Hawaiians still called it Lae Ahi, or “Cape of Fire.”

  When they sailed past Diamond Head into Maunalua Bay, Koko Head Crater appeared in front of them. Tamarind House was at the end of the bay.

  “Another half hour,” Zachary spoke into the stirring wind. Above the bay were mounds of mist-shrouded hills, covered with tropical growth and palm trees.

  “Amabel wouldn’t stay at Tamarind House,” Zachary said. “She feared the kahunas and claimed there were evil spirits. So they moved toward Kalihi and Waikiki, and built Kea Lani on good red volcanic soil. Excellent for sugarcane.”

  The kahunas were self-proclaimed priests of the Hawaiian gods of earth, water, and sky. The first Christian missionaries had called the kahunas “witch doctors.” Although the old religion was banned by King Kamehameha II in 1819, a certain segment of the Hawaiian population continued to listen to the kahunas with reverence and, sometimes, fear. It was not unusual to see some aspects of Christianity (which they said they adhered to) mixed together with Hawaiian religious beliefs in an unbiblical alliance.

  Eden agreed that there seemed to be a shadow across Amabel’s bridal house. Ever since Amabel, young and newly married, had fallen and lost the baby she’d been expecting, she’d been frightened by the kahunas and departed from Tamarind House, never to return.

  Eden also understood why Zachary didn’t like the house. As a small child she had fallen down the stairs at Tamarind on a stormy night and, for a time, had been unable to walk. Her mother, Rebecca, had departed for the leper colony from Tamarind House, and Eden had grown up with tragic nightmares of the incident.

  But Eden didn’t believe in superstitious “curses.” A house was an inanimate object made of wood and stone. If evil was lurking in a house, most likely it was due to the sinful nature of those living there. No, she wasn’t superstitious. These circumstances were merely coincidental. Her life rested in the powerful nail-scarred hands of the Son of God. Jesus was alive forevermore, seated at the right hand of the Father.

  “Evil spirits,” Dr. Jerome said, “do exist. But we’ve nothing to tremble about. The Holy Spirit, who is in us, is greater than Satan, who is in the world. ‘Greater is he that is in you, than he that is in the world,’” he quoted from 1 John 4:4.

  Dr. Jerome went on to repeat the tale. “Amabel became emotionally upset one day, and instead of reading the Scriptures and calling on her Lord, she ran from the house and tripped, hurting herself. She had begun to plant hundreds of acres of cane on the plantation. Some missionaries were there too. They had built a bungalow church near the now-abandoned cemetery, but after she fell, she became even more afraid of the kahunas, believing they had cursed her, Tamarind, and the bungalow church. The kahunas told her that Kane, their idol-god, did not want the Christian God there. Unfortunately, Amabel feared all this.”

  “Bats in the belfry,” Zachary said ruefully. “I wonder if I’ve inherited any of her bats.”

  “Oh, nonsense,” Eden told him, laughing. “There’s nothing wrong with you that a pleasant evening at a merry luau wouldn’t cure, especially if Bunny Judson were there to smile at you.”

  Zachary grinned. “Ah, you know me too well, Eden.”

  “Bunny Judson?” Dr. Jerome drew his brows together, thinking. “I thought you were all but engaged to Hunnewell’s daughter; what was her name?”

  “Claudia,” Zachary said woefully. “Yes, I’m supposed to be.”

  “Supposed to be? You mean you’re not?” Jerome said with an amused smile.

  “Not yet, fortunately. Not ever if I’ve got anything to say about it.”

  Eden quickly changed the subject. “Oh, look. I can see the top of Tamarind House.”

  Zachary swiftly backed her up. “Yes, I caught a glimpse of its red tile roof.”

  Eden clung to the railing. For Amabel to attribute a simple accident of tripping while she ran in haste as the curse of a heathen god, seemed rather immature of her. Amabel couldn’t have been much of a testimony to the omnipotent God of the universe if she trembled superstitiously before the kahunas and ran away to Kea Lani!

  Eden shaded her eyes as the ferryboat came to the landing near Kuapa Pond at Maunalua. The wind was rising and the palm fronds shifted and fluttered their welcome. They left the boat landing and walked toward a hill with a vine-tangled path and thickly growing palms. Zachary led the way, pausing to make certain she and her ailing father were able to follow.

  “It isn’t too far,” he assured Dr. Jerome. “Once we reach the horse road, there’ll be a buggy waiting. Candace said she’d have one for us, even if she had to pay the driver to camp out. If not, I’ll go up and get one and come back.”

  “I’m doing fine,” Jerome called up. “These legs have brought me to many a village.”

  As they climbed the modest hill, the path, once rough in places, had been smoothed for easier walking. She thought of Amabel with regret. She, as well as many Christians, viewed tragedy beyond their control as from the forces of darkness, seeming to forget their Savior was all-powerful.

  True to Zachary’s word, a buggy and driver were waiting. The driver was dozing under his cane hat, and Zachary boyishly enjoyed scaring him awake.

  The ride to the house was longer than she’d remembered. As they rounded the bend in the road, the house emerged into view on a terraced hillside with a wall of leafy tropical trees. A magnificent structure, she could see that it loomed wide and tall, perhaps three stories high. The buggy came to a stop in the lava rock court, and both Candace and Great-aunt Nora c
ame out the front door to welcome them.

  “Whatever has troubled your health, my dear Aunt Nora?” Jerome asked, scowling his concern over her fragile appearance. Eden, too, noticed the change and was alarmed.

  “Have you been taking the prescription I brought you from Dr. Bolton?” Eden asked. “You should be needing a refill by now.”

  “That medicine, my foot,” Great-aunt Nora scolded. “That’s what put me in bed for what seemed weeks and nearly brought me under till the Resurrection.”

  Eden, startled by the unrealistic description of the heart medication, waited for an explanation, but Nora was having none of that just now. She turned from Eden to welcome her nephew, Jerome, and her great-nephew, Zachary, chattering away about trying to regain her strength so she could return to Honolulu to see how well Zachary was managing her newspaper.

  “Well enough,” Zachary said. “This is the first week I’ve not written any articles. And the others were all welcomed by the monarchists and loathed by the annexationists, including Grandfather. So I must be doing something right.”

  “You’ll need to tell me about your health problems, Nora,” Dr. Jerome insisted as they climbed the steps into the large house.

  Eden was still pondering Nora’s response to the prescription when Candace followed her inside and closed the heavy front door. Candace’s eyes were troubled.

  “Has Nora seen a doctor?” Eden asked.

  “Not in the three days I’ve been here. You know how she is … insists she feels well enough. I need to talk to you alone a bit later,” Candace said in a low voice, “about another matter.”

  Eden nodded, and as the others turned toward them, Candace managed a smile and greeted her uncle Jerome with kind affection. So Candace is worried about something other than Nora. What could it be?

  After their bags were brought in and placed in their rooms, refreshments were served in a dining room full of fine wood furnishings and carpets, glass, and fine paintings. It wasn’t until after dinner that Eden and Candace were able to meet. Candace, who believed fresh air and long, brisk walks would cure most anything, insisted they walk along the cliff to watch the sunset.

  They climbed the smooth path until they came to thick ferns in rich, damp earth where orchids grew over rocks. The wind among the palms and rocks, the distant roar of waves crashing to shore, and the smell of ocean, flowers, and decaying bark saturated her senses. The path wound its way to an open area where foliage disappeared. A gust of warm, damp wind struck them. Eden caught sight of the ocean and the white sandy beach far below. The waves pounded and splashed their spray upon the beaches.

  Eden caught her breath at the wondrous sight. A glorious sunset mixture of crimson and gold swept along the far horizon as the last of the sun’s rays glittered on the crests of incoming waves. She looked at Candace, smiling her pleasure and expecting to see a smile in return. She was startled to see that her cheeks were wet with tears.

  “Why, Candace, what is it?”

  Candice swallowed hard and pulled a rumpled, folded sheet of paper out of her pocket. She handed it to Eden, found her handkerchief, and blew her nose. “Grandfather has won.”

  Shocked at the implication of her words, Eden opened the paper, trying to hold it steady in the gusts. She skimmed the affectionate introduction by Grandfather Ainsworth, along with an excuse for the extreme measures he was taking to bring to pass her marriage to Oliver P. Hunnewell. Ainsworth insisted he needed to do this for the Derrington enterprise and for future Derrington generations.

  Then the words that Candace had spoken of leapt off the page: “I will make Keno successful with a plantation of his own on one of the islands if you’ll make the sacrifice and marry Hunnewell. Candace, my dear, you must show yourself to be generous to Keno for his own sake, if you love him as you claim. This is a superb opportunity for Keno, and something he wants more than anything else. His own land. His own cane workers. Respect for his hardworking ways. His future will be full and fruitful. I promise to see this through. Isn’t this your desire for the man you claim to love? And now I am handing it to him on a silver platter. He will know nothing of our private bargain, or he would naturally refuse it. The land, the plantation, will be arranged through a third party so that he will never know either of us had anything to do with his future success.

  “If you won’t go along with what is truly best for both of you and your family, I’ll have no choice except to make certain he will never know any success on the Islands, and your own inheritance will be placed under the control of either Silas or Zachary.”

  The words wound on, leaving emotional rubble in their path. Eden was speechless for some time, then she looked at Candace.

  “You’re not going to agree to this?”

  Candace was her calm self once more. Her lips thinned, and her cheeks were pale even in the bracing wind. “Yes, I am going along with it.”

  “Candace, you cant! It’s impossibly unfair. Why, I can’t believe Grandfather would be this dictatorial, this selfish. He’s dealing in bribery and extortion!”

  Candace merely shrugged her thin shoulders and stared out to sea. The sunset was fading.“We’d better start back. There’s no moon tonight.”

  “Candace—”

  Candace turned and walked back toward the house, and Eden, clutching the letter, followed after her. She protested and argued all the way back to the house but, Candace remained resolute.

  Ainsworth had known how to win, not by forcing Candace to give Keno up, but by playing on her devotion to him. It was dreadful.

  When they reached the house where the lights now burned brightly in the windows, Candace paused and faced Eden. She smiled wanly and put a hand on Eden’s shoulder. “I knew you’d be outraged. I could count on your understanding for the injustice done me. I wanted to enjoy your sympathy for a short time, before I turn away from it once for all. That’s why I wanted you to know the truth. But you will promise me not to say a word of this to anyone. Not to Rafe, not to Grandfather, Zachary, Uncle Jerome, Nora, Ambrose, Noelani—and not to Keno. To no one.”

  “I won’t promise!”

  “You will, dear Eden. Because I love Keno more than I love myself. I want him to have what he can never have with me, though I’m a Derrington. I don’t want Keno to be forced off the islands he loves. I want him to have that grand plantation, a family of beautiful children to enjoy it after he’s gone, and yes,” her voice held firm in Candace’s brittle way, “a lovely girl to marry and eventually love. I want him to forget me. I’ll be able to do that for him by turning away from him now.”

  “Oh, Candace … ”

  “My decision is made. You’ll do as I ask and say nothing. This secret is ours alone. Someday, when we’re old, maybe the truth can come out.”

  Eden had no words. She felt weak, for she knew Candace better than anyone knew her—except perhaps Grandfather Ainsworth—and she knew that arguing with her would only strengthen her resolve.

  Chapter Twenty

  Suspicion!

  Eden waited in the hall near Great-aunt Nora’s sitting room where she had expected to speak with her alone that evening, as Nora had asked, but the opportunity was delayed when Dr. Jerome insisted Nora retire early so he could ask about her illness and check her heart. Before dinner, when he came from her room, he was scowling, his stethoscope still hanging about his neck.

  “Her heart is steady. She appears to be getting stronger. She should be doing even better in the morning.”

  Eden sighed with relief. “What do you think made her ill? A stomach indigestion perhaps?”

  Dr. Jerome remained pensive and noncommittal. “A number of possibilities,” he said, offering Eden no help at all. Then he soothed her concerns by saying the vomiting and dizziness had all passed. “The worst, according to her, was a week ago.”

  “She should have seen a doctor.”

  “Candace would have seen to that, but she hadn’t arrived yet. Nora loathes doctors and all the fussing that goes wit
h them, as she puts it. By tomorrow, I imagine, she’ll be up and walking in the garden.”

  “What about the heart tonic prescribed by Dr. Bolton?”

  “I doubt it was the prescription. I’ll know more once I’ve spoken with Dr. Bolton. He can tell me what it was he prescribed and the dosage. From what Nora remembers, it sounds like one of the older medications. That’s rather curious, as to why he would go to an older medication. I believe those medicines used to contain a bit of arsenic.”

  Eden stared at him. “Yes, I believe you’re right. Can you read the label?”

  He wrinkled his brow with amused toleration. “Nora thought it had gone rancid. She claims she threw it away as soon as she became ill.”

  The next morning Eden entered the dining room early, hoping to find her great-aunt up, for she was an early riser. The room greeted her with unhurried silence, as no one had yet come to breakfast. The massive fan-shaped window faced the sea that lulled peacefully in the distance, while clusters of puffy, pearl-gray clouds drifted by. Then she heard her father speaking to someone on the lanai. He hadn’t seen her yet and was standing beside Great-aunt Nora.

  “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation, Nora.”

  “No doubt, but I’ve every intention of delving into this.”

  “Maybe you should wait to speak with Ainsworth.”

  “I’d rather speak with Rafe Easton, since it concerns him.”

  Jerome noticed his daughter. “Oh, hello, Eden.”

  What was that all about? Eden knew she was interrupting something important. Great-aunt Nora turned her head away and remained at the railing, looking across the rocks to the sea. Jerome came into the dining room. He gave no hint of what they’d been discussing. With a pat on her arm he pulled a chair out for her, then another for himself. Eden looked toward the lanai. “Great-aunt Nora? Are you joining us for breakfast? I do hope you’re feeling stronger.”