Spoils of Eden (29 page)

Actually, those circumstances with Lana hadn’t worked out quite the way her mother had expected, but Eden had no intention of writing to tell her. Rebecca’s notion that somehow her younger sister, Lana, would step up to become the new mother to her little girl was probably unrealistic considering the emotional needs and
troubles Lana herself had faced. But the idea that she would do so had been a comfort to Rebecca in her dreadful situation.

One thing Eden would never do was add more disappointment to her mother’s expectations by explaining what had gone wrong in her life without her. Some issues of suffering and loss were better left unspoken. What good would it be for Rebecca to learn of disappointments Eden had felt while growing up? Had she not enough suffering of her own? Eden had made the decision that when at last she was allowed to speak to her mother, she would say nothing to increase the load of unhappiness upon her shoulders after years of trial on Molokai.

I shall go there to bless and minister, not to receive. I shall go there to make her proud of me so when her hour comes, she’ll know her daughter, at least, turned out well enough and has a future in Hawaii
.

Surely, at this stage, that would be about all her mother would want to know.

Realizing Herald Harley stood watching her with a quizzical tilt of his auburn head, she managed a smile.

“I intend to answer her by letter just as soon as life here gets back to normal. Tell me, how was it you were able to go to Molokai and locate my mother’s kokua?”

“Ah, a long tale, Miss Derrington. Suffice it for the present to say simply how I, personally, owe Dr. Jerome my very life. He found me in India, abandoned, sick, and without any place to go.” As his mind went back, Eden saw a flinch of unpleasantness. “I was hopeless at the time. My reputation was in ruins.” He blotted his face. “He nursed me back to health, then took me on as his assistant. I am indeed greatly indebted to him.”

“What manner of illness did you have if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Oh, no secret, none at all. Tropical fever. A very sore case, indeed.”

“My father has it now, does he not? I recognize the signs.”

“Yes, I’m sure you would. He’s recovered from the worst, but it
appears it can return under certain conditions. Stress, perhaps? I am not a doctor, so I cannot say for sure. Well, to go on, there’s little that means more to Dr. Jerome than a clinic on Kalawao. I thought if I could find Mrs. Derrington there and have her write a letter to Dr. Chen, then your father could have the means by which to appeal to the Hawaiian Board of Health, for Dr. Chen was highly respected for his research. Though I think your father is a far better and wiser physician. I managed to visit the leper camp, and I had the name of the kokua from your father. I found them both quite easily, explained my mission, and received their well wishes and support. Dr. Jerome had mentioned you to me on several occasions, so I thought that if Mrs. Derrington were willing to write you, I should ask her kokua to broach the subject. Well, you see, it all worked out rather well.” He looked at her with anxious interest. “Then you do intend to go with us to Molokai?”

“I wouldn’t think of missing the opportunity to meet my mother and to be of benefit to Dr. Jerome.”

He nodded in approval. “Very wise of you, very wise indeed.” When Eden left Herald, she remained thoughtful, trying to remember what more he’d said on his first arrival, about San Francisco and Dr. Chen. She’d been so excited that morning with her father’s arrival it was difficult to recall the details. Perhaps it didn’t matter.

T
he trades were blowing, clearing much of the smoke and haze from the fires that had turned the Rat Alley shacks into smoldering ash heaps.

Eden walked toward the private tent she shared with her father for meals and a few hours’ rest away from prying eyes. The tent had two sections, the front for normal activities and the rear where extra medical supplies were kept along with their personal belongings.

So much had happened. Her father’s arrival, Kip’s disappearance, the death of Ling’s son, the plague in Rat Alley, and now the purging flames. It seemed to her that a month should have come and gone, rather than a few brief days.

Eden’s concerns for Dr. Jerome grew. The longer she spent in his company, the more convinced she’d become that he had contracted some serious tropical malady. His symptoms might be the result of malaria, dengue, yaws, scrub typhus, or yellow fever, perhaps from his last visit to the Brahmaputra river region of India or even South America.

Eden had studied the prevention of such diseases, but cures
remained elusive. Emetics were used, the most effective being ground cinchona bark, called Peruvian bark, first used in South America by indigenous tribes. Wine was sometimes used, and snakeroot, mercury, or arsenic compounds. She remembered a question from a quiz Lana had given: “When had quinine sulfate first been extracted from cinchona bark?” The right answer was 1820. Quinine worked best for malaria in bringing down fever, as was commonly known by now. Mustard plasters and hot baths were used to help the circulation, and mercurials to clear the intestines.

Eden had noted among her father’s personal medications, from which he treated himself, both quinine sulfate and artemisinin.

In her studies under Lana and Dr. Bolton, shed found it interesting that a dozen years earlier, a French army surgeon, Charles Laveran, had discovered parasites in the blood of patients suffering from malaria. But what could it mean? How did parasites get into the blood?
Someday
, she thought,
we will discover the answer
.

That morning shed seen something new among her father’s personal medications: “glyceryl trinitrate,” or “trinitrin,” which were terms used to avoid alarming patients who, taking nitroglycerine for angina pain, might otherwise correctly associate it with dynamite. She had noticed signs of a heart condition; after breakfast, when out of breath and stressed, he’d placed a small tablet under his tongue.

How would this affect his plans for Molokai? Knowing her father’s determination, she believed nothing would hold him back. Her love and respect for him only increased, and she would pretend not to notice what a medical student with her training would surely understand.

Eden walked past some tents put up by Kalihi staff and the Honolulu police. These were used for the injured, the old and infirm, young children, babies, and expectant mothers. Everyone else was kept away, confined to guarded public camps, or they went away from downtown Honolulu on their own, toward the more desolate northeastern section of Iwilei, past the Oahu prison and toward the Koolau mountain ranges.

Here in the camp headquarters for Kalihi, small tents housed food, medical supplies, and other necessary provisions for the displaced. Farther up on Koko Head, Eden could see a large number of people camped.

She wondered again why Rafe had come here looking for Ling, who’d been released from quarantine yesterday. By now he would have returned to Kea Lani to console his wife. He would also have discovered the tragedy that his family hut had been burned to the ground and heard Hui voice her fear that the fire hadn’t been an accident.

Yet how could it not have been an accident? Despite her uncles moral failures, he wouldn’t have tried to take someone’s life, would he? Even so, the memory of that moment in the hut, with all of the potential for utter destruction, shivered its way through her mind. If it hadn’t been for Silas …

As she approached Dr. Jerome’s tent, she was startled by a young boy bursting from it. In his haste he nearly ran into her. His cheeks were flushed, his brown eyes wide and excited.

“What’s wrong?” she demanded.

“Doctor grab his chest like this.” He reenacted the scene. “I helped him go inside the tent. He sits on a chair now. I find the wahine nurse—”

“I’m the nurse.”

Eden rushed into the tent, straight past Dr. Jerome and into the rear, and cast a quick glance around for Jerome’s medical bag. With his bottle of nitroglycerine in hand, she went back into the front section to where Dr. Jerome was seated in a chair, his face haggard. Hurrying to his side, she shook out a tablet and placed it under his tongue. She knelt by the arm of the chair to take his pulse and waited.

After a minute he said, “I’m all right now.”

She watched tensely until she was certain the medication was working. “This will teach me not to go anywhere without my medication. The angina—a small problem.” He reached to pat her shoulder, managing a weak but confident smile.

Small? Indeed
.

He’d had little sleep, and his gaunt appearance was emphasized by loose-fitting clothes.

“Father, you’re working much too hard. If you don’t take care of your health, there won’t be an opportunity to open that clinic at Kalawao.”

He sighed and gave a nod. “Yes, I’m aware of that. I’ve decided hereafter that I’ll take a reprieve from all this and leave it to Dr. Bolton and his staff. He’s already told me he believes we’ve done what we can for the most part. I think I’d better concentrate now on the cause for which I’ve come to Honolulu.”

She was pleased he’d grappled with the issue and decided his course of action. Perhaps the angina episode had lifted a veil. “You relax,” she admonished. “I’ll go to the cook tent and find us some tea.” She put the bottle in his pocket and left through the front flaps.

Some fifteen minutes later Eden was carrying a canteen of hot tea and Hawaiian sugar. As she walked toward Jerome’s tent, she recognized Rafe’s golden horse—the handsome, pampered stallion he rode everywhere—tied nearby under the palms. She quickened her steps, intending to enter through the tent flaps, when Jerome’s words struck like a thunderclap.

“I gave you my response on how I feel about Kip when you met with me in Tahiti.”

“And in Tahiti, sir, you encouraged me to proceed with my plan. Adoption was a viable recourse.”

“I’m sure I must have considered your intention of keeping him merely casual rhetoric.”

“I do intend to adopt him.”

“Rafe, you know the laws. He’s better under my jurisdiction. As for my daughter, Eden, she’s committed to the same ideals as Rebecca. She’s not ready for marriage. She’s coming with Herald and me to Kalawao.”

“You never liked my father, did you? Perhaps that’s why you’re against me, his son.”

“That’s outrageous!”

“My father tried to talk you out of bringing Rebecca to Molokai. She had no interest in medicine, and you know it. She was a teacher. She had expected you to settle at Kea Lani, pastor the mission church, and raise a family. But you couldn’t see it. Like the obedient, godly wife she was, she set aside her calling at the school and went with you to Molokai. And when she contracted the disease, you became a guilt-ridden man. You’ve spent all these years traveling the world, searching for the miracle cure that doesn’t exist. To this day the memory of my father disturbs you. That’s why you don’t want Eden to marry an Easton, and it’s why you’re now against my plans to adopt Kip and make
him
an Easton.”

There followed a heavy silence. Then came Jerome’s choked voice. “Yes, Rafe, it’s true about Rebecca. I’ve never forgiven myself for bringing her to Molokai. It haunts me day and night. And it’s true about Matt, as well. He’d had feelings for Rebecca, but it never went far. Then he fell in love with your mother, Celestine. But he retained a friendly, Christian interest in Rebecca, and he warned me to not bring her on such a horrendous pilgrimage. He said that she wasn’t prepared for that manner of onslaught, and that it was no life for a gentle girl like Rebecca.”

“And you resented him for it?”

“Yes I did, even to this day. I knew he was right, you see. I didn’t care to admit it. I was jealous that he seemed to understand her better than I, her own husband. Then, when his warnings were realized, I couldn’t face it. As you put it, I traveled the world in search of my ‘miracle cure.’ But this is where you’re wrong, Rafe. The cure
does
exist. It will be found in Dr. Chen’s work, and we will soon be able to help those now held captive on Molokai!”

Another long silence ensued. Eden stood transfixed just outside the tent.

“Sir, I am honored and humbled that you would confide in me as you have. I allowed myself to speak in anger, and for that I request your forgiveness. However, I am not here to question your commitment to Rebecca. It is Eden I’m concerned about. Eden and Kip.”

“I’ve already discussed the clinic with her,” Jerome replied, an edge back in his voice. “Her heart is the same as mine. She received her letter from Rebecca, and her commitment is the same as mine. Were going to Molokai.”

“And Kip?”

“I want Kip under my own authority.”

“It’s disappointing enough after what happened to your wife that you’re willing to risk your daughter to leprosy, but will you also bring Kip back to the leper camp? The mother of the baby did not want Kip in the camp. If she had, she would have kept him there.”

Jerome’s chair creaked and his voice increased in timbre. “Kip is my responsibility, and I will do what’s best for him.”

“Sir, I respect you, and your work. The fact that you are Eden’s father makes it doubly so. You have no reason to fear me. I’m not trying to steal Eden or Kip away from you. Or trying to keep you from your lifelong goal on Molokai. But I will do everything in my power to protect Kip. And if it means working to change the law of adoption in the Legislature, I will. I intend to keep him.”

“If that’s the way you would have it be, then I, too, should let it be known that, as a son of Ainsworth Derrington, my reputation in Honolulu is respected. I have leverage.”

“I’m well aware of that, sir.”

“Then be aware that if I choose to do so, I can use that influence. I’m a doctor specializing in leprosy research. I could make an issue out of holding you accountable for removing Kip against the wishes of the Board. It’s not what I want to do. However, you could find yourself in grave trouble, should I make your actions a public controversy.”