Paradise for a Sinner (21 page)

Before she could reply, Adam cut in as if trying to lighten the mood. “What about Losi, always our joker, our trickster, but a talented artist, too?”

The reverend bowed his head and murmured a few words. “God bless his soul. Even when we were young, I suspected he might become a
fa’afafine
.” He explained to Winnie, “That is a man who lives as a woman, who might even go with a man.”

“Like a drag queen in New Orleans?” Winnie asked.

“Something like that. They are often entertainers and are not looked down upon, but when Losi went to the mainland to study art he began practicing the gay lifestyle. That is not accepted here, not by the churches, not by the
’aiga
, the large family groups.”

Beneath Adam’s tan skin, a faint flush of red appeared. “Jesus. Sorry. When he told me he’d follow me to the University of Oregon and become a cheerleader, I thought that was just another one of his jokes. I mean, the Sinners have a gay punter and he is an all right kind of guy, but that way of life would never be accepted in the village.”

“Losi came here with a young man when I’d barely taken over this church. Inexperienced and unmarried myself, yet they came to me for counseling. I told them what they did was a sin. They must give up their feelings for each other or return to California and never return. Still, they told the family and were cast out. Losi returned to the mainland with his lover. When his lover left him a year later, he committed suicide. I did not have the right words to help him, and he chose that man over his family ties.”

“I’m so sorry,” Winnie murmured.

Anguished, the pastor said, “He’s not the only one. We lose our youth to despair, always expected to obey and give to those older and care for those younger without any thanks. The
’aiga
is all and the individual nothing no matter what they achieve.”

Winnie shook her head sadly. “I can think of one person who doesn’t follow the party rules.”

Looking pained, Adam said, “Me.”

“No! I was thinking of little Lita, Pala’s sister.”

“She is another kind of problem,” the minister agreed. “Her father has beaten her several times for being indiscriminate, but that kind of treatment makes her more defiant. She laughed when Lila tried to speak to her. I suspect she’ll be another one who leaves with the first man who offers to take her away from the village.”

“What about Sammy Tau who sits on his butt doing his
musu
thing while everyone else works and thinks he is better than Adam?” Winnie persisted, not believing Adam could feel badly about himself when he was so successful at what he did.

“Sammy has given all he has, which wasn’t much, to attain status as junior
matai
. After he marries Pala and climbs to the top, he will get the best of everything. He wants what Adam has, fame, luxury, a beautiful woman, wealth, but he hides that by claiming to live the
fa’a Samoa
. Adam has given us funds to put new roofs on both churches and last year, computers for the school. Sammy belittles that by saying he should give more, give all to the village. He does not have the heart of a good
matai
.”

The rain let up and allowed a ray of sunshine to race across the still heavily laden table like a golden mouse giddy with the abundance. Davita clapped his hands and the serving girl appeared to take away the food and stow it in two big baskets for the guests to take home.

“I am sorry our conversation was not more lighthearted, Winnie, but rumors circulate in the village. If you plan to be involved with a Samoan man for any length of time, you need to know the facts of life here. It is not the Garden of Eden it appears to be.” The reverend walked with them to the door of his mansion. “I hope to see you in church.”

“We will be there.” The men embraced in farewell. The servant loaded the baskets onto their arms and the couple walked back to the Malala home as a cloud of steam rose over the jungle-covered sides of the mountain and the overflowing stream emptied its latest burden of water into the sea. Giving up, Winnie carried her shoes.

They arrived at the Malala house in plenty of time for the evening prayer service at six. When a boy clanged on the used propane cylinder serving as a bell, the village loungers and even Sammy Tau went inside for devotions. For ten minutes, Winnie participated in prayer ending with a hymn sung by Ela in a contralto voice rich as coconut cream. A dinner of steamed fish, taro, fresh fruit, and tea party leftovers, more than enough for Winnie, followed. Afterwards, she and Adam sat on the porch in the two rockers and enjoyed the evening ocean breeze along with the drop in temperature, though it remained as warm and humid as Louisiana in August.

“You know I could build my parents a bigger, better house, but no one can go to two stories without insulting the
matai
and the church. Only they are allowed a mansion,” Adam remarked.

“Your parents seem perfectly happy with what they have.” Winnie cooled herself with a fan of woven palm fronds. “There is something to be said for that.”

“They will never want for anything, but if I send them a special gift, they give it away.”

Winnie, catching on, nodded. “The
fa’a Samoa
at work.”

“Exactly.”

Ela came to the door and beckoned her son to come inside. “No, Winnie, stay and enjoy the evening air. I must talk to Adam. Do you need anything to drink? Noa can open a coconut for you to drink the milk. Very refreshing.”

“No, I’m fine, thank you.”

Within the house, windows wide open to catch that same breeze she enjoyed, mother and son conversed in Samoan, quietly at first, then rising in heat and tempo. Always so friendly, so even-tempered, Winnie wondered why they argued. She pretended not to hear. Using an app on her iPhone, she peered into the lowering dusk and matched the stars coming out so close to the equator, bright Canopus and the False Cross caught in the dense net of the Milky Way. Amid insect and amphibian noises from the rainforest, the soft rush of the waves on the sand, and the whine of the occasional mosquito she slapped with her fan, the village quieted for the night. One late stroller sauntered by the house, stopped, and climbed the porch steps. Uninvited, Pala seated herself with slinky grace on the floor by Winnie’s feet.

“All alone?” she inquired in a perfectly melodious voice. “Adam does not keep you company?”

“He is inside. I notice Sammy is not with you either.” Winnie flattened another annoying mosquito with one brisk swat.

“No, I only see him in the company of my family to protect my reputation. Besides, he is
musu
right now. A divorced woman like you has more leeway in your behavior.”

“How do you know my marital status?”

Pala inclined her head toward the open window. “Because they argue about you. Ela says women in her church group noticed the two of you go off into the bushes last night. Now, they wonder what you and Adam do under her roof.”

“We haven’t done anything under her roof.”

“But Adam says you are a divorced woman who can do as she pleases and not some shy village maiden. I am not particularly shy, but I am careful of my actions.”

“So I notice.”

“Ela says he should be looking for another village girl to marry, not running around with a fast
palagi
. Adam claims you are not
palagi
but have black blood. I don’t see it in you myself. I am darker. He thinks you should be respected because you are a nurse. Fine, Ela says. She does not want to lose him to a scheming mainlander, nurse or no nurse, because then he will never come home.”

“Thanks for the running commentary.” Winnie wished she’d accepted that offer of milk in a coconut. She could use the shell to conk the very helpful Pala over the head and shut her up, but that would probably break several village taboos. Across the way, she thought she saw Lita flitting between the houses with a young man in pursuit. “Maybe you should run along and see if your sister is in for the night.”

Pala’s voluptuous lips flattened across her teeth. Winnie half expected them to roll back into a snarl like the local dogs. Adam burst from the house, and her snarl curved into a pleasant smile. “You see I am keeping your guest company, Adam.”

“Yeah, thanks.” He unrolled a mat tucked under his arm and returned inside. A minute later, he bullied a single mattress onto the porch and threw it down on top of the mat. Adam took a wad of mosquito netting from under his arm and snagged it on a ceiling hook probably intended to hold a basket of ferns or flowers. “Now no one has to wonder where I am sleeping!”

Winnie pushed up from her rocker. “If my presence here is causing trouble, I should leave tomorrow.”

Pala answered her sweetly. “Oh, no one travels on a Sunday. It is a day of rest. You must stay.”

Adam glared at his former fiancée. “Pala, do you need us to escort you home?”

The village maiden rose as fluidly as the night mist on the mountain. “Not necessary. You know there is no crime in the community. Sleep well.” She left, hips pumping under a tightly wrapped lava-lava.

“Pala graciously translated what your mother said. Really, I should go back to Pago on Monday and let you enjoy the rest of your visit with your family.”

“I seldom enjoy my visits. Last year, my parents arranged my marriage to Pala. I went along with it and what a mess that became. I am beginning to feel slightly grateful to Sammy for taking her off my hands.” Clearly intending to sleep in full view of the village, Adam folded himself onto the mattress and unbuttoned the shirt he had worn to the tea party. “You should go in and get to bed. We have church in the morning.”

Winnie wanted nothing more than to slip under the mosquito netting, nip his slightly sulky full lower lip, and lay down with her head on his now bare chest. But, remembering the no PDA rule in force in his hometown, she said goodnight and went to sleep alone.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The improvised church bell sounded early beckoning worshipers to the LMS service. Winnie donned her white ensemble and walked between Noa and Adam to the sanctuary. Unsurprisingly since Ela sang in the choir, she left earlier after admiring Winnie’s wide-brimmed hat with its cheerful sunflower. Before leaving, she put out fruit and cakes for the family, but Adam warned Winnie to eat lightly.

“We will probably be invited to Sunday lunch, the
to’ona’i,
with the church leaders.”

“If it has a fancy name, this must be another feast. I’m not sure how many of these I can handle before I become as big as your mother.” Winnie had refrained from mentioning his mother’s size before the unkind words spoken during the argument and engraved in her mind by Pala, though in the morning Ela had treated her with perfect courtesy.

“My mother’s girth is widely respected. No one in my family goes hungry.”

The terse way he answered made her shut her mouth and quietly enter the snowy stream of Samoans in their whites on the way to church. In a custom-made linen suit complete with a vest but worn open-collared without a tie, Adam made a magnificent appearance, larger than life. He’d subdued his wild hair with a leather thong and topped it off with the most elegant of Panama hats. She did not envy Pala walking beside Sammy who looked as rumpled and dumpy in his clothing as an old-time Louisiana politician.

While the church seemed overly embellished to Winnie and she understood not a word of the service, she did enjoy the soaring voices of the choir whose music rose majestically to the high rafters. The singing reminded her of the Rev’s AME church in that respect. As they left the building, the rotund minister and his wife, who matched him like part of a set of salt-and-pepper shakers portraying two chubby bakers, issued the dreaded invitation to the Sunday lunch. Of course, they accepted.

The entire congregation left one church and hiked to the other for the next service. As they prepared to enter Reverend Tomanaga’s sanctuary, Adam called out to Pala and Sammy, who walked slightly ahead in the midst of her family. “Since I will not be at your wedding, I want to present you with an early gift.” Adam held out the keys to his newly purchased Jeep and dropped them into Pala’s upturned palm.

Even her perfect mouth could think of nothing to say but, “Oh!”

Sammy Tau grabbed the keys and pocketed them in his lumpy suit. “Very generous of you, old friend.” With no more thanks than that and a scowl on his face, Sammy nodded for his fiancée to enter the church and turned his back on them.

“I’ll say that was generous,” Winnie muttered. “Exactly how are we going to get back to Pago Pago now?”

“Someone will take us or we’ll ride the bus like everyone else,” Adam answered shortly and stomped inside to take a seat.

Noa gave her an apologetic smile. “He is irritable this morning, probably from sleeping on the porch or from not getting what he wants.” The smile changed to a small, suggestive grin. “It is never good to argue with Ela.”

Speaking of the devil, or perhaps God’s ambassador, Ela joined them, freed from her choir robes. As massive as her son in her whites, she wore a hat of such feathered grandeur and complexity Winnie’s Nana would have been envious on a Sunday morning in the States. In fact, Winnie could almost hear Nana’s voice saying, “If you keep giving it away, that man will never marry you.”

Marriage to Adam. It never entered her mind before now, that kind of commitment. Maybe sitting beside him in church brought on the thought. She tamped it down, considering what he could have had in Pala—beauty, great status, and the approval of the community and his family.

The order of service pretty much followed that of the LMS church. Again, Winnie enjoyed the voices of the choir and understood little until Reverend Tomanaga announced he would give the sermon in English out of deference for their visitor. He spoke of the need to forgive in order to keep both the family and village at peace, aimed directly at Adam, no doubt.

When the pastor began to read out loud the contributions to the church, he did not catch Winnie off guard as the previous minister had. Noa beamed when half the proceeds from his fish sales were mentioned. Adam had put a hundred-dollar bill into his envelope, Winnie a twenty, though nothing was expected of her as a visitor. That gained her friendly smiles.