by Bodie Thoene
Kaiulani held her hand. “We consoled one another with laughter.”
“Always.”
“And with truth, Hannah. When I need truth, you have always given it to me.”
“I have tried.”
“I need the truth now.”
“Well?”
“Do you think the Lord will let my life make a difference for good? For my people?”
Hannah leaned her head against Kaiulani’s shoulder. “That’s why you were born, Kaiulani. For the sake of God’s truth and for His Kingdom.”
“Thurston and the rest—they are so strong. I feel so young. Still like such a child. Mama said before she died that I would never be queen.”
Hannah took Kaiulani by the shoulders. “Remember the words of Jeremiah. The prophecy! ‘Say not, I am a child: for thou shalt go to all that I shall send thee, and whatsoever I command thee thou shalt speak. Be not afraid of their faces: for I am with thee to deliver thee, saith the Lord.’ ” 23
“I’m only afraid that I will fail my people.”
Hannah shook her head, refuting Kaiulani’s fears. “The Lord has made you a wall of bronze against those sons of missionaries who, like the sons of Eli, have turned away from God. Your story will be told for generations. How a girl was chosen by God to stand firm and speak truth against the thieves and hypocrites who have come to steal the land that is not their own. Remember? The Lord has declared, ‘I will utter my judgments against them touching all their wickedness, who have forsaken me… . Thou therefore…arise, and speak unto them all that I command thee: be not dismayed at their faces… . For, behold, I have made thee this day a defenced city, and an iron pillar.’ ” 24
Kaiulani turned her face to the broad swath of the Milky Way. A shooting star flamed across the sky above their heads. She cried, “Ke Akua Mana E! How mighty You are, O Lord!”
The two women, arm-in-arm, stood silent before the majesty of their God. The steamer emerged from the channel, and signal fires receded in the distance.
At last Hannah said quietly, “A big day ahead. Go to sleep now. I’ll wake you at dawn.”
* * * *
“Kaiulani?” Hannah’s gentle voice was accompanied by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. She drew Kaiulani back from a dream of her mother. “The sun is almost up. Almost home.”
Kaiulani, still drowsy after a short few hours’ sleep, raised up and sipped the hot brew before she uttered a word. “I was dreaming about Mama,” she croaked.
Hannah placed the breakfast tray on the side table and sat on the edge of the bed. “Oh?”
“Funny thing. I have not dreamed of her before, but she was with her brother.”
“With the king?” Hannah seemed impressed and interested. “Did they have any good advice for you?”
“Nothing at all. Not a word. Just sitting together smiling, like when I was a little girl. Laughing and talking between themselves. I came in, and they both looked up and smiled at me.” Another sip of black coffee. She held it on her tongue, savoring its strength. “Can we see Oahu, you think?” Swinging her legs out from the covers, she was barefoot but still dressed in a rumpled skirt and blouse.
“Diamond Head. Makapuu Point.”
“I want to see Oahu before I change. Come on.” She and Hannah dashed from the cabin and hung on the rail.
The island reared up from the ocean floor, scraping the belly of the clouds. Color seeped through the predawn mist. Daybreak, like a flame on the wick of a candle, danced on a jagged peak. Light flowed like water down the verdant green folds of the pali. Foamy breakers, churning in shadow at the base of rocky cliffs, glowed with rose and gold and violet reflections of the sky.
Kaiulani lifted her head and stretched slender arms as if to embrace her homeland, like a long absent lover. Her lips moved as she sang the Hawaiian translation of Psalm 150: “E halelu aku oukou ia Iehova: Praise the Lord, Jehovah!”
Hannah joined Kaiulani. “E halelu aku i ke Akua, ma kona wahi hoano; E halelu aku ia ia, ma ke aouli o kona hanohano!”
They harmonized the ancient Polynesian melody to which the words of King David had been set. It seemed as though each note spoke new colors into existence. “E halelu aku ia ia, no kana mau hana mana; E halelu aku ia ia, e like me ka manomano o kona nui.”
“Hannah, we are home at last,” Kaiulani said.
A moment more the women feasted on the old familiar sights. Then Kaiulani returned to the cabin to wash and dress and prepare for what lay ahead.
Chapter Twenty-two
Dressed in the eye-catching brilliance of royal Hawaiian yellow, Kaiulani was the very embodiment of Hawaii’s Hope as the steamer pulled into harbor. Hannah stood at her elbow on the deck. “Remember who you are. Alii of Hawaii. And Daughter of the King of Heaven. For such a time as this.”
Kaiulani squeezed Hannah’s hand, then waved to the cheering crowds. She held her tears in check at homecoming. Her smile returned the love she felt overflowing from their hearts.
She and Hannah had left Honolulu as schoolgirls. Kaiulani was returning home as a woman who had loved, sorrowed, and matured. She had known triumph as she won the respect of British society and the ear of the American president. The awakening of Kaiulani’s soul called her home in defiance of Thurston and the evil men who usurped the government. Queen Liliuokalani was under house arrest. Would the tyrants of the new Provisional Government also arrest Kaiulani? Her simple prayer was that Grover Cleveland could halt the inexorable march of greed and deception that gripped her kingdom by the throat.
What would this homecoming mean, both for the princess and for her people?
Queen Liliuokalani no longer lived in the palace but under guard in her private residence.
The haoles of the Provisional Government lorded it over the Islands. Called the PGs, they closed opposition newspapers and arrested political enemies. Kaiulani knew they also lived in fear of the American president.
President Cleveland wanted to be fair. Still, as America drew closer and closer to war with Spain over Cuba, he found few supporters committed to maintaining Hawaiian sovereignty. After all, America still needed sugar and a naval base in the Pacific. The Provisional Government was distasteful, but the preservation of order was preferable to chaos.
All these things were in Kaiulani’s mind as she and Hannah arrived at the Oceanic Wharf from which they had sailed many years—a lifetime—ago.
Now, as then, the docks thronged with her people. Now, as then, they sang to her and carried a burden of Aloha along with the masses of flowers. Now, as then, they saw in Kaiulani their ray of sunshine. But Kaiulani saw clearly in their weary faces and ragged clothes that the happy, pleasant people she had left behind were indeed oppressed and broken.
She looked to her right at Hannah’s shaken countenance. “You see it too?” she asked.
Hannah swallowed hard and nodded. “ ‘They break in pieces thy people, O Lord, and afflict thine heritage.’ ” 25
Kaiulani felt hot tears brim at Hannah’s words. The terrible dream returned to her mind. The old woman standing in the sea because there was no land left in Hawaii upon which she could stand.
Suddenly the monarchy and the kingdom were driven from Kaiulani’s thoughts. She spotted her father standing on the dock. “Oh, Hannah, it’s Papa. There’s Papa!” And then the tears spilled over.
Hannah took her arm. The two women hurried down the gangplank. Crowds pressed around her, singing the song written for her in her childhood.
“O ua mau pua lehua…
Bring forth the wreath of lehua
The wreath for our beloved Princess
Loving hands with maile didst weave
A beautiful crown for Kaiulani.”
Their voices and the scent of flowers filled the air as she moved among them. Then, with the Polynesians’ exquisite sense of ohana, family, they cleared a path between her and her father. They lifted over her an arch of flowers to form a tunnel of fragrant remembrance as they sang.
“
And upon thy head we will place it,
How lovely and charming to behold there.” 26
“Aloha!”
“Aloha!”
Kaiulani returned their welcoming cry, then said breathlessly to Hannah, “We must never leave home again.”
Papa Archie, gray and careworn from the months of chaos, reached out to enfold her in his arms. “Aloha nui loa, Kaiulani. You are the first ray of light in my life many months.” Then he embraced Hannah as well. “And Hannah, my dear, look at you! You two have grown side-by-side, like twin trees.”
Unable to speak, Kaiulani’s throat ached from emotion. Locked in the arms of her father, Kaiulani heard a diffident cough at Papa’s elbow.
Kaiulani’s heart leapt. Andrew Adams waited patiently to offer his welcome. “Aloha. Heard you were landing today,” he said.
She fell into Andrew’s arms. “I didn’t expect you here. Last night we sailed through the channel. I saw the lights of Lahaina and…Andrew! I’m so glad! You are here! Waiting!”
“Even in Lahaina we got news you were coming. I’m not the most welcome person to the PGs. They’ve shut down my newspaper and forbidden me to write. But I couldn’t miss today. Welcome home.” He paused a moment, then emphasized her title. “Princess.”
“Andrew, will you stay with us? At Ainahau?”
Andrew and Archie exchanged somber looks as the rough vigilante guard of the PG pushed at the back of the crowd. “Thank you. No, I have a room. Kaiulani, you’ll want to go home now,” he said, stepping aside. “I’ll call again soon, if I may.”
“Do, please do,” Kaiulani urged. “We have so much to talk about.”
Suddenly there was the sound of a scuffle at the back of the crowd. She looked up. Two dozen armed soldiers of Thurston’s PGs ordered the crowd to disperse as they made their way toward her. When she looked back, Andrew had vanished. The Hawaiians began to melt away from the threat. Flowers lay trampled on the ground.
Hannah grabbed Kaiulani’s arm, pulling her back from her father. Raising her chin defiantly, Hannah stepped between Kaiulani and the troops. “Stay quiet,” Hannah hissed to Kaiulani. “No matter what happens, stay quiet.”
Archie nodded. He put his arm around Hannah.
The leader of the vigilantes scowled at Archie, blocking their route to the waiting carriage. “Do you know it is against the law for Hawaiians to gather? We could arrest you all.”
“I’m here to welcome my daughter home.” Archie hugged Hannah. Kaiulani stared at the red-faced haoles over Hannah’s shoulder.
“Your daughter.” The leader snorted as he glared at Hannah. “Get her out of here before there’s trouble. Understand?”
“Come along, my dear.” Archie helped Hannah into the carriage first and then Kaiulani followed. The driver tapped the reins on the back of the team the instant they were seated.
“Well done, Hannah.” Archie breathed a sigh of relief. “With the queen under arrest, I was concerned these savages might also arrest Kaiulani. A royal princess in prison. A show of their strength.”
“Would they do that, Papa?” Kaiulani asked. “Is it so dangerous?”
“Worse.” Archie stared out at the knots of destitute people gathered to see her pass by. “There was a reason you were not called home. Now you’re home, I’m glad you are here, but Kaiulani, there is danger everywhere. You are a threat to Thurston and the others. The people love you so.”
She closed her eyes. The aromas and the sound of the spinning carriage wheels on the gravel drive to Ainahau seemed so familiar, yet everything had changed. Kaiulani wished she and Hannah had never gone away at all. The sign on the gate still read Kapu, forbidden, but armed soldiers of the Provisional Government watched the driveway to the house from across the road.
Kaiulani heard the cry of her peacocks, as if they knew she had come home. But home would not be the same. The house would be altogether new, she realized. Papa had written that he had torn down the old dwelling to build one suitable for the heir apparent and future queen of Hawaii.
Did any of that matter now? Would it ever?
* * * *
Only when the gates of Ainahau closed behind them did Kaiulani feel as though she could breathe. The carriage road curved toward the house, but Ainahau indeed was no longer the home she had known.
The great old banyan tree still stood, but everything else had changed. Papa’s letter of warning had not prepared her for the beautiful new frame house that stood in the place of her childhood home. A broad, covered porch stretched the entire width of the structure. The grand entry was festooned with floral arrangements to welcome her.
She felt her smile waver as it came to her that Papa had built the place expecting a princess and then a queen to occupy it. Perhaps the dying prophecy of Kaiulani’s mother was coming true: “You will never be queen.”
“Welcome home, Kaiulani.” Papa helped her from the carriage.
Hannah followed as father and daughter walked arm-in-arm into the tiled foyer. Exhausted by the journey, Hannah’s familiar cough began again. She could hardly breathe as she turned aside and sat on the lanai to wait alone.
To Kaiulani’s right was an elegant drawing room, two-score paces in length and half that in width, meant to be a gathering place for state receptions. Floors and paneled walls were clothed in precious wood from the island forests. Royal symbols of the coronet and kahili were entwined on the woodwork. Tall windows looked out over the sloping lawns where her flock of peacocks strutted. Up the grand staircase was a suite of private rooms for her personal use. A library filled with books was just off her bedchamber.
At last they climbed a flight of steep steps to the sunny roof garden. The view of Oahu and the sea spread out before her.
Most of the Crown lands were in the hands of the PGs. Even the crown jewels of Queen Liliuokalani had been auctioned off by Thurston’s cronies. Revenues that had always helped the destitute native population now paid the anti-royalist troops who guarded the prisoner-queen and patrolled the city streets.
Kaiulani looked toward the banyan, where she had spent such carefree hours. Beyond that was the sea, where the ragged old woman of her dreams had warned her of all that had come upon her people. For a moment, Kaiulani wished she had not returned. The reality was much harsher than her nightmares.
She pictured her mother, laughing in the sun, as Kaiulani had played at her feet. She remembered the large sensitive eyes of Robert Louis Stevenson as he looked at her as the Hope of Hawaii. “Child of a double race…”
For the first time in her life, Kaiulani was ashamed of the Anglo half of her heritage.
Where was the home of her heart?
“Papa,” she said, breathless at the sight, “there is only one thing more I must do before I really feel home.”
“What is that?”
“I want to ride up to Nuuanu. To visit Mama’s grave. And Papa Moi’s.”
* * * *
Kaiulani’s footsteps traced the inlaid koa-wood floor of the grand reception hall. The day that had begun with such promising sunshine and iridescent blue skies had turned dark and threatening. Fat raindrops hammered the birds into silence and knocked the pikake blossoms from the bushes. Rumbles of thunder rolled down from the pali.
Bare of any furnishings, the extravagant size of the room made it feel more like an auditorium or gymnasium than a queen’s audience chamber. Forty steps along one wall she and Hannah paced, then across beneath the crossed kahili standards that now seemed to suggest mockery rather than honor.
“It will clear this afternoon,” Hannah ventured. “We can still get out and go riding.”
Kaiulani regarded her friend. Hannah had awakened with a chill that morning and still had a slight tremor in her voice. “When it warms up, and the trails dry out some,” Kaiulani said.
Gravel crunching beneath iron-bound wheels drew their attention to the expansive views beside the entry. In the distance were the waters off Waikiki, today more gray than azure.
&n
bsp; In the foreground Clive Davies alighted from a shiny black carriage. “Wait here,” Kaiulani heard Clive’s booming voice order. The driver, a Hawaiian, turned up the collar of his coat and leaned back into the scant shelter provided by the vehicle’s folding roof.
Clive, holding aloft his umbrella, strode briskly up the walk. He had filled out since returning to Hawaii. The vest of his suit strained against his watch chain. His fleshy face had lost the definition of chin and cheekbones.
Under the portico, Clive wiped mud from his feet, set aside the umbrella, and removed his hat. He approached the door, which Kaiulani opened before he knocked.
