Kona Winds (13 page)

They had just started down the switchback road that led to the highway, and their height provided a panoramic view of the coastline. The ocean was a pale blue near the shore where the reefs were and a deep, rich blue beyond—the color of lapis lazuli. White strips of beach were broken by clumps of rusty black lava rock rising from the golden sands. The vivid green of the abundant tropical growth on the land provided a brilliant contrast. Jutting out to sea was the headland of the Waianae range of mountains.

"It is spectacular," Julie agreed. Even that seemed an understatement. Before she could take it all in, the car had made the last curve and the road was leveling out toward the highway.

At the intersection, Ruel waited for a lull in the traffic before turning onto the road. Not wanting to distract him, Julie kept silent. As they drove along the coast a few minutes later, she couldn't think of anything to say again. They passed a small beach with surfers bobbing in the waves.

"What happened to your friend?" Ruel slid her a lazy, inquiring look.

"Frank? He's around." Her answer was carefully nonspecific.

"Don't you see him anymore?"

"Yes." Which was true. She had simply avoided going out with Frank—mainly because she knew his affection was more serious than hers. She liked him, but she didn't want it to go any further than that.

"You haven't gone out with him lately," Ruel commented.

"He works nights," she said as if that was the explanation. "I usually see him sometime during the weekend—usually Sunday."

"Are you meeting him in town today?" Ruel circled the rotary to the Honolulu turnoff.

"No," Julie looked out of the window. Short stands of grass punctuated a field of ploughed earth in a semblance of rows. "Is that sugar cane?"

"Yes, a new field. As it grows, it will spread out and bush until it's as thick as this next one." He indicated the one just ahead, towering thick and green close to the road, tassels waving over the top. "When you see tassels in a field, the cane stalks are usually sweet. This particular field is about ready to be fired."

"I enjoy seeing that the day we rode out to your field," she said without thinking, a look of pleasure lighting her eyes.

She remembered the interlude vividly—the two of them riding across the meadow toward the smoke, pausing on the knoll to watch the red wall of fire creep through the field. There had been an easiness between them that Julie wished she could recapture. "Have you been riding lately?" Ruel asked.

"On horseback? No, I haven't." She shook her head.

"You're welcome to ride the gray whenever you like, take him down for a run on the beach sometime. Tell Malia and she'll have Al saddle him for you," he explained.

"Thank you, I might do that some weekend." Although she silently thought it might be a bit lonely riding without him. She quickly pushes that thought out of her mind.

Abruptly, it seemed, the cane field was behind them. Now, on either side of the road grew low, spiky plants. It took Julie a second to recognize them as pineapple. The fields were geometrically designed with rounded corners and straight rows.

Ruel noticed her rapt expression as she gazed out of the window. "You haven't seen pineapple growing before?"

"No," she admitted.

The car began perceptibly to slow its fast pace. Julie thought it was to give her a better view, but instead Ruel pulled onto the shoulder and stopped the car. In the row of plants paralleling the highway, she could see the conical fruit of the pineapple, growing as an offshoot of the plant.

"They're harvesting over there." Ruel pointed to a machine farther down the field straddling the rows with a conveyor belt, complete with lights for nighttime picking, stuck out from its side like a long arm. The field hands walked behind the arm, dropping the pineapple on the belt where it rode to the machine.

"You'll notice the pickers are wearing a lot of clothes—long-sleeved shirts and jackets, pants, and boots and gloves. Pineapple plants are wickedly sharp, so the pickers need a lot of protection from the spiky leaves."

Julie watched the process for several minutes before guiltily realizing that this was all very old to Ruel, who had seen it a thousand times or more before. She cast him a rueful look.

"I'm sorry. You should have said something rather than let me hold you up like this," she protested.

"It was my idea to stop in the first place." His mouth slanted into a brief smile. "If I weren't willing to be delayed, I wouldn't have done that. We'll leave when you've seen all you want."

"I have," Julie insisted.

"Besides—" Ruel paused to check the oncoming traffic; drove back onto the highway and then continued his sentence "—I couldn't let my sister's teacher be in ignorance about pineapples."

"That would be bad, wouldn't it?" she smiled.
 

"I gain something from it, too," he said.
 

"What?"
She was curious.

"Looking through the field through your eyes, it becomes something new for me. I stop taking it for granted," explained Ruel.

The traffic became heavier as they passed Schofield Barracks and the town of Wahiawa. The pineapple fields were left behind and the terrain became rolling and wooded. There was a predominance of trees with canopied, umbrellalike limbs that Julie recognized as the monkeypod. From this tree came the many wooden bowls and dishes that were the standard souvenir of Hawaii. Just as suddenly, it seemed, the open country gave way to a mass of towns running together. Highway signs pointed to Pearl Harbor, Honolulu and Waikiki.

"Where would you like me to take you?" Ruel asked.

"Wherever it would be most convenient." Julie had no specific destination in mind. She had the whole day to sightsee the downtown area.

"Will the yacht harbor be all right? It isn't far from the center of Waikiki," he told her.

"That will be perfect."

Seconds later, he was stopping the car on a side street near the curb. The tall masts of sailing boats rose in the distance, crowded together in a confusing mixture. For a ride that had begun with so many misgivings on Julie's part, she was sorry to have it end.

"Thanks for bringing me," she said.

"Enjoy your day," was his parting remark with no mention of seeing her later, or possibly giving her a ride back.

She stepped onto the sidewalk and waved as Ruel drove away. She had a decidedly let down feeling as she started down the street alone. Resolutely, she told herself it was the way she wanted it.

After more than an hour of wandering through the tourist shops, she picked up some literature on places to see in Honolulu. From the luxury hotels, along the beach, she journeyed to the Punchbowl—an extinct crater that had become the cemetery of the Pacific. From there, she traveled to downtown Honolulu and walked through Chinatown, then on to the State Capitol building and Iolani Palace where the ruling Hawaiian monarchs had lived. The Palace was now a museum. A visitor at the Palace suggested to Julie that she would enjoy the Bishop Museum, where there were several exhibits regarding the Polynesian cultures and their contribution to Hawaii.

It was afternoon when Julie arrived at the Bishop Museum on the mountainside of Honolulu. With her admission paid, she went to the snack bar in the center of the courtyard before touring the exhibits.

The old, massive stone building had been a summer palace of the Hawaiian monarchy years ago. Its beauty was evident in the beautifully carved wood panels lining the stairway and the banisters and woodwork. Most impressive was the main room with its ceiling rising several floors high.

Hanging from the ceiling was the skeleton of a whale, one side exposed and the other sculpted out of papier-mâché to show the bulk of the monolith of the ocean. On each floor were exhibits of various cultures and eras. From the wrought iron railings around each floor could be seen the whale and the typical Hawaiian hut built on the main floor.

On display in the museum was a magnificent collection of feathered cloaks once worn by Hawaiian royalty. The rich yellow and red and black designs were created by taking single feathers from exotic birds and weaving them into a solid fabric. It had taken years to make one robe, but the colors had not faded with the passage of time.

Julie worked her way to the main floor. As she started down the last staircase, she happened to glance up from the steps. Waiting at the base was Ruel, a hand resting on the curved banister, a half-smile curving his mouth. Her heart skipped a beat and exploded like a rocket.

"How—How did you know I was here?" she stammered.

"I asked myself 'Where would a history teacher go if she were sightseeing?' The only logical answer was a museum. I simply had to go around until I found the right one," he answered smoothly.

"You haven't been to every museum?" Julie protested.

"Only the three obvious choices—Iolani Palace, the mission house, and here." He glanced around the main floor. "Have you seen it all?"

"Yes," she nodded, still stunned to find him waiting for her.

"Would you like a ride home?" Ruel asked, studying her with a sideways tilt to his mahogany dark head.

For the first time Julie glanced at her watch, surprised to find she had spent more than three hours at the museum. It was a few minutes before four o'clock.

"Yes, I would." It seemed an unnecessary answer to an unnecessary question.

Tucking a hand under her elbow, Ruel guided her to the exit. In the parking lot was his sports car. "What did you think of the city?" He unlocked the door and held it open for her.

"I liked it." Her answer was automatic, given before she thought about what had prompted his question. "You were wondering if Emily had colored my thinking?" she laughed as he slid behind the wheel.

"Did she?" His laughing glance admitted she was right. "Em is convinced Waikiki is one step away from Coney Island."

"Oh, I admit all the tall buildings didn't seem to fit my idea of Hawaii, but it has a lot of redeeming qualities."

"Such as?" Ruel wanted to know as he left the parking lot and fought a way into the traffic.

"The people," Julie decided. "There's such a mixture."

"Oahu, the Gathering Place. That's the island's nickname," he explained. "It certainly is true. People watching is the most popular pastime in Honolulu.''

"I can believe that," she laughed softly.

"What haven't you seen since you've been here?" Ruel asked in all seriousness.

"I haven't been to Pearl Harbor yet, or the Arizona Memorial," Julie answered.

"Have you been to the Pali lookout?" Instead of making a turn toward the ocean and the highway home, Ruel turned the car toward the mountain range rising above Honolulu.

Her glance was quizzical, "Pali? Is that the goddess of volcanoes?"

"No, that's Pele. Pali is the Hawaiian word for cliff. The Pali is the gap through the Koolau Range of mountains that takes you from Honolulu and the leeward side of Oahu to the windward side. There's a scenic lookout at the top of the pass. It should be a must for every visitor," Ruel told her. "Would you like to go?"

"It isn't on the way home, though." Julie was positive of that.

"It isn't that far out of our way," he assured her.

"In other words, you are taking me there whether I want to go or not?" She laughed as she made the accusation.

"That's right," he admitted.

The highway that they traveled climbed toward the mountains with their steep, fluted cliffs forming a long serrated ridge. Clouds drifted near the peaks of the range.

"The Pali highway is occasionally closed," Ruel informed her. "The mountain gap sometimes focuses and concentrates the tradewinds into hurricane force. There's a morbid joke that if someone tries to commit suicide by jumping off the cliffs when these winds are blowing, he'll get blown back up. That's an exaggeration. However, the waterfalls in Nuuanu Valley on the windward side have been known to flow upside down."

"Really?" Julie was skeptical.

"It's the truth." He took the exit to the lookout and parked the car. The cities and coastline of the windward side spread out before them, the vivid blue of the ocean outlining the boundary of the island. "Here, at the Pali, is where Kamehameha the Great, the first of the Hawaiian monarchs to rule all of the Hawaiian Islands, conquered the Oahuans. He drove them up Nuuanu Valley to the Pali, and finally over the cliffs. People still find the bones of these warriors from time to time around the foot of the cliff."

Julie shuddered. It was difficult to imagine that a place so beautiful could have seen such a bloodied incident. The cliffs were steep. It was a very long way to the bottom.

"How is your geography, teacher?" Ruel asked with a mocking inflection.

"It isn't my strongest subject, but I think I'm adequate in it." She turned from the view to study him, a half-smile curving her wide mouth.

His roughly hewn features were very male—compellingly so. Her heartbeat quickened in response to the powerful attraction she felt for this man. It caught at her breath, making it shallow.

"Are you aware that the chain of Hawaiian islands consists of some of the tallest mountains in the world?" he quizzed.