Aloha Love

by Yvonne Lehman

  Six

  Before Mak could dismount at the mission school, Rev. Russell ran out of his house across the street and rushed up to him. Mak’s first thought was that Pansy had died. But the reverend wore a wide smile, and his eyes were brighter than Mak had seen in a while. Maybe he was going to say one of those phrases like his wife was now in heaven with Jesus. If he did, Mak would turn Big Brown around and have him gallop back to the ranch.

  Although it likely would be true, no man had a right to be glad his wife had died. He braced himself. The reverend waved a pink piece of paper at him. “Mak. Mak. My sister is coming to the island.”

  “Your sister,” Mak repeated for lack of anything more to say.

  “Yes, yes. Come on. Get down from there and look at this.”

  Mak dismounted and took his class materials from his saddlebag. He passed the reins to a schoolboy who ran out to lead the horse out back and tie him in the shade where he could have feed and water. After giving the stallion a farewell stroke, Mak looked down at the pink paper.

  The way Russell was tapping the paper with his finger prevented Mak from reading it, but the man looked up at him above his half-glasses and told him what was in it.

  “This was written the week before they planned to leave port. They could be here within a week. Or sooner, depending on how smooth the crossing is.”

  “They, you said?”

  “Ah, yes. Matilda, that’s my sister’s name. Haven’t seen her in ten years. She’s bringing her niece. Oh, how old is that little girl now? Janie was about thirteen, maybe fourteen last I saw her.” He looked off, not seeing children at the door of the school but a memory tucked in his mind.

  “Janie was a skinny little thing. Orange pigtails. Big eyes and a face full of freckles.” He sighed and looked at the ground as if he’d returned to reality. Then he gazed into Mak’s eyes. “That was a hard time for her.”

  Mak could imagine. The description Russell gave left a lot to be desired.

  “But Matilda can do anything, Mak. Doesn’t matter if it’s a business or a school, she can run it. Why, she could even take over the preaching if need be.”

  Mak stared at Russell as he chuckled. “Oh, and a companion for Jane. A young woman they took in after—” He folded the paper. “But you don’t need to know the details.”

  Mak could agree with that. The most he needed to know was that someone was coming to help at school and he could get back to his business on the ranch. “How is Miz Pansy today?”

  Russell’s face brightened. “This has done her a world of good, Mak. We can see where her illness is headed, just like the doctors said. But she’ll hang on for Matilda.” He nodded. “You just wait and see.”

  Mak nodded, wondering which was easier: knowing your wife was going to die or experiencing the unexpected shock of it. He focused his gaze on a wagonload of children being drawn up to the school, grateful for any distraction from his disturbing thoughts.

  With a finger movement toward his hat, Mak left the reverend and walked toward the long, two-story school, as many children were now doing. Lessons would begin soon.

  Greeting children while walking across the long porch, he was again reminded that some were as young as Leia. Was it fair to turn his mother into a teacher? She was already a substitute mother. He wasn’t sure anymore. . .about many things.

  After morning classes, Mak returned to the ranch, and Leia ran out to meet him as usual. After dismounting, he knelt to take her in his arms. He hardly felt her soft little arms around his neck before she moved back and began asking a zillion questions.

  “Is Miss Pansy any better? What did you teach? Can you teach me what you teached them? Put me up there and let me ride. You can hold me real tight and I won’t fall off.”

  The last time Mak had tried that at her request, she’d screamed no at the last minute, and he’d visualized the horrible scene all over again and felt the emotion of it. Yes, he understood his little girl wanting something she couldn’t have. He had lived that way for three years.

  He nodded to a stable boy who came to lead Big Brown to the barn.

  Leia put her hands, balled into little fists, on her sides and poked out her bottom lip.

  “Watch out. Your lip might get stuck like that.”

  She snickered.

  He smiled at his little girl, aware of her beauty, like her mother’s. Black curls and eyes so dark they often looked black. Her skin was a smooth, deep, tan color typical of Tahitians.

  His mother often said Leia resembled her mother in coloring but was like him in stubbornness.

  “I’ll tell you all about school at dinner,” he said. “I need to check on Panai.”

  He saw the droop of her little shoulders when she turned toward the porch. He didn’t look into his mother’s eyes, but felt her stare. Maybe someday he could shake that feeling of tension that he didn’t measure up to what his mother wanted of him.

  After finding out how things went at the ranch and apologizing to Panai for not being around him all day, he cleaned up and joined his mother and daughter for dinner.

  His mother gave thanks, and then she and Leia bombarded him with questions about the visitors, most of which he was unable to answer.

  “Reverend Russell did say that one of the visitors had orange hair and freckles.” He hoped to prepare Leia so she wouldn’t be too surprised upon seeing the reverend’s guest and blurt out something to hurt her feelings. She’d been raised with people of different nationalities and coloring, so she had no problems with that. But he didn’t think either of them had seen anyone with orange hair.

  He watched the twitching of Leia’s lips as if she wondered how to deal with that. Her little shoulders fell as she exhaled deeply and began to eat. His mother’s eyebrows arched, but she changed the subject.

  “You seem to enjoy teaching at the school.”

  Was that a note of pride in her voice? Had he finally pleased her?

  “Believe me, teaching horses is a lot easier than teaching such energetic children. They are a challenge. But yes,” he said. “I find it fulfilling. I’m glad to be of service to society the same as anyone else.” He sighed. “I know you would like to help, Mother. And you could do it better than I. But I need you here with Leia.”

  Her silence spoke as loud as her words. He, or she, could take Leia along.

  “Daddy, what’s their name?”

  “Who? The children?”

  She held up three fingers. “The one-two-three new ones that’s coming on a ship.”

  “Matilda, I think. And Janie. I don’t recall his saying the name of the other one.”

  “How old are they?”

  “Well, Matilda is Reverend Russell’s sister, so she would likely be about his and your grandmother’s age. Janie. Let’s see.” He looked into his memory. “Reverend Russell said he saw her ten years ago and she was thirteen or fourteen. So, she should be twenty-three or twenty-four. The other one is a companion, so she wouldn’t be a child. But I don’t know if she’s young or old.”

  “This Jane must be single,” his mother said as if she were not thinking of someone for him. But she was always thinking of someone for him. “I mean, coming this far with a companion and not a husband.”

  Mak shrugged. He wouldn’t know. But it’s possible being an orange-haired woman with eyes big as a crocodile’s and a splotched face might be reason enough for still being single at that age. He immediately chided himself for the unkind thought. One couldn’t always help one’s outer appearance any more than they could help what fate dealt them.

  “Daddy, can we meet them at the dock?”

  His grimace made the hope on her face wane.

  It was a great treat of most islanders—going to the dock, greeting newcomers and visitors, seeing how they dressed, what they brought with them, finding out if they were going to stay.

  “These are Reverend Russell’s relatives,” his mother said. “I can’t imagine that we wouldn’t go.” Her eyes questioned, o
r perhaps challenged, Mak. But she waited for his reply.

  He nodded. “Doesn’t everyone go to the docks when ships come in?”

  Leia squealed and clapped her hands. Ah, he’d made the women in his life happy. . .for the moment. “Can we make leis for them?” She glanced from him to his mother, looking for approval. “They’re coming to help Miss Pansy. And Miss Pansy is my special friend.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea,” he said.

  For the next several days, they took as much interest in those leis as he did his horses. His mother and Leia were making three leis of shells, beads, seeds, and feathers. Greeters would bring fresh flowers to the dock. Those could be added to any kind of lei the moment a ship appeared as a dot on the horizon.

  “You two are doing a fine job,” he said. His mother and daughter looked like he’d given them a piece of heaven when he added, “Reverend Russell said his sister has been a teacher and that her niece has finished college and one or both will probably take over for me in the classroom. Leia, when the new teachers come, I will think about letting you go to their school.”

  He’d pleased his family and told himself he would seriously consider it. Pansy’s sister-in-law and niece would likely have the same sweet, loving, gentle nature that Pansy had.

  Seven

  October 1889, Hawaii

  “Focus on the horizon,” Jane and the other passengers were told by the captain. “That will get you accustomed to solid ground again. Just like you had to get your sea legs, you’ll now have to get your land legs back.”

  Jane didn’t worry about that. She was ready for land. During those first few days of travel, she had taken care of the others, putting cold cloths on Matilda’s and Pilar’s heads when they had come down with bad cases of seasickness.

  Now, she stood at the railing, focused on the horizon for that first glimpse of land. Once it first appeared like a pencil line across the ocean, it always reappeared, no matter how high the waves.

  “Like oil,” Jane said, glancing at the faces of Matilda and Pilar, who looked as excited as she felt. “No matter how much water, the oil keeps rising to the top.”

  “And often looks like a rainbow of color,” Matilda said.

  “Speaking of rainbows, look.” A rainbow of colors more vivid than she had ever imagined made a halo over the ocean and that speck of land.

  So this was her first glimpse of Hawaii. Swept away like an ocean wave was any concern or fatigue of that long, wearisome, boring, sometimes perilous voyage.

  A sparkling deep blue sea splashed up against high jagged rocks. As they drew nearer, mountainsides of brilliant green appeared, then palm trees. Their tall, slender trunks rose into the clearest blue sky she’d ever seen. The tops of the trees were crowned by fan-shaped leaves, reminding her of peacocks proudly spreading their tail feathers.

  “Oh, that aroma,” Jane said.

  Matilda laughed. “It’s certainly not of cattle droppings and horses.”

  Jane and Pilar laughed, too. As much as Jane enjoyed the smell of horses, she was delighted with this mixture of heady yet delicate flower scents. She’d never thought about smelling an island. She supposed travelers to Texas might think it had the odor of cattle and oil.

  “Oh, look.” Pilar said, pressing her hand against her heart. “They’re getting into canoes and coming out here. Are they—” Her face screwed up like a tight fist. “Are they going to attack us?”

  “Of course not.” Matilda scoffed.

  Pilar wasn’t convinced. “Mr. Buckley said they’re uncivilized. And Miss Matilda, in our history lessons on the way over here, you said they killed Captain Cook.”

  Matilda scoffed again. “You would have failed if I had given you a test on it, Pilar. That was more than a hundred years ago. And the people thought he was a god and couldn’t die. I doubt they’re going to think we are gods.” She laughed.

  Jane smiled and looked out at the big brown men, their muscles bulging as they rowed, moving through the water faster than the ship. “Aunt Matilda,” she said timidly. “Those men are wearing skirts and necklaces.”

  Matilda patted Jane’s hand that was clinging to the ship’s railing. “Those are costumes, dear. Pansy wrote about them. These men are greeters. They don’t always dress like that. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to spoil the surprise. And those things around their necks are not called necklaces. Pansy wrote me all about it. Those are. . .” She stood thoughtful for a moment, holding her hat against the sudden swift breeze. “Pansy spelled it l-e-i-s. I suppose they’re called lee-eyes.”

  “Aloha, Aloha, Komo mai,” the rowers called. The passengers waved and yelled, “Hello and thank you.”

  “Don’t they speak English?” Jane asked.

  “Pansy said English is the official language,” Matilda said. “But they like to give a Hawaiian greeting.”

  The rowers escorted the boat to the wharf, where passengers disembarked down the gangway. They pulled the canoes up onto the white sand and formed a border, making a path for the passengers to walk through, each one bowing, greeting. Jane saw then that the lee-eyes the greeters wore seemed to be made of shells and what looked like long teeth and pieces of bone.

  At first, Jane thought there must be some personage of high acclaim aboard ship, even though she thought she’d met all the passengers. The welcomes and greetings, however, seemed to be for each of them. At the end of the row of men stood many women and groups of children. The women came forward and greeted each of them as if they were long-lost friends.

  “Matilda. Is that you?” A man in a suit came up to them.

  Matilda screeched, “Russ!”

  Jane feared her aunt would break his body with her exuberant hug. However, he wasn’t a small man and seemed quite strong. He looked slightly older than Matilda, and his thin brown hair had a lot of gray in it. They broke apart, and she kissed his cheeks and he kissed hers. Both had tears in their eyes.

  Matilda stood shaking her head like it was all unbelievable. Finally, her brother wiped at his eyes and looked away from her. “Is this little Janie?”

  Jane nodded and went into his open arms. Then he held her away by the shoulders. “You’re not little anymore.”

  What could she say? “Ten years does that to a girl.”

  He laughed. “And it did it well. Ah, this is Pilar?”

  She said, “Yes, sir,” and he opened his arms to her.

  Uncle Russ motioned to a group of people. A woman and a little girl hurried up to them. Jane was surprised they wore clothing much like one would wear in Texas. But that healthy-looking woman couldn’t be Pansy.

  “Matilda,” her uncle Russell said, “meet a dear friend, Rose MacCauley.”

  “Oh, I’m so anxious to get to know you,” the woman said. She held up a long loop of flowers and managed, in spite of the big hat, to slip it over Matilda’s head and made sure it draped equally down her back and chest.

  “Jane, this is Leia MacCauley,” Uncle Russ said with a big smile. The child reached up for Jane, who bent down and for some strange reason felt like she might topple to the ground. However, as the child was arranging the loop as Rose had done for Matilda, Jane said, “Thank you, Leia, for the lee-eye.”

  The girl wrinkled her nose. “What’s a lee-eye?”

  Uh-oh. Jane felt like an excessive amount of saliva had formed under her tongue. Something wasn’t right. The people around her began to sway. “This. . .this necklace is called. . .what?”

  “It’s a lei,” Leia said and snickered. She pronounced it lay. To make matters worse, the child turned to a man, several feet away standing with a group of children. “Miss Jane called the lei a lee-eye, Daddy.” She put her hand over her mouth.

  Children snickered.

  Rose MacCauley motioned to the man called Daddy. “Mak, come and meet Russell’s relatives.”

  Jane looked at the ruggedly handsome man, who lowered his gaze to the ground. She resented what she felt was an unsuccessful attempt to keep a
grin off his face. But, what could she expect from a man holding in front of him a hat with flowers around the band?

  The man came closer. But why was he swaying?

  She heard the name. “Mak MacCauley,” and somewhere in her swirling mind, it registered that he had been mentioned in Pansy’s letter as a teacher. But the hat? Was that another lei for her?

  Just in case, she said, “I could use a hat like that.”

  He said abruptly, without a smile, “Sorry I can’t say the same about yours.”

  Should she laugh? Be insulted?

  No, he must be drunk. He couldn’t stand still. In fact, he often seemed to be twins. Looking around at the others, she saw that they too became like waves on an ocean.

  She had that excessive saliva feeling again, and her ocean waves were not gently rolling but sloshing against her insides. She had to swallow it, but something wouldn’t go down. Instead, that something was coming up.

  Aboard ship, they’d been warned it might take a while to get their land legs back and if they felt dizzy, they should hold onto something. She extended her hand. Mak did the same. But before they could touch, she withdrew hers and covered her mouth with her gloved hand.

  She heard some exclamations and Matilda’s voice. “Oh, my dear. We were told that green is even greener in Hawaii, but I didn’t know they meant faces. You look perfectly ghastly.”

  Jane could only focus on what was in front of her, and she stared in horror at the man who stared back, making her feel like the most disgusting creature in the world. She should have kept her focus on the horizon. “I feel. . .I feel. . .I. . .uh. . .”

  She turned and ran.

  Eight

  Jane made it a few feet behind a bench to a grassy spot and felt like a cow heaving in labor. She colored the grass even greener with whatever had been inside her stomach. She wiped her mouth with a. . .silk bandana?