Spoils of Eden (5 page)

What would she say? Glancing down at her empty ring finger made her uneasy. Had she made a foolish mistake?

She broke the silence without answering Zachary’s question. “Maybe you could go to Candace and explain about Grandfather and Oliver Hunnewell. I need to stop at the church first to speak with Ambrose.” She, too, had troubling news to deliver—to Rafe. “Can you bring Candace back to Kea Lani before Grandfather arrives?”

He shook his head, looking gloomy once more. “No, Townsend’s at Kea Lani waiting for me right now. I dare not show up late. I’m headed straight there once I bring you to Ambrose’s.”

The tension in his voice was unmistakable. Zachary rarely called
Townsend “Father,” a sad result of their failed father-son relationship.

“Silas is there, too,” he added. “Townsend demanded a meeting between the three of us.”

The cause for the meeting was no secret to Eden. Grandfather Ainsworth hadn’t been pleased with Zachary’s behavior. Although her grandfather was a moral man who had not forgotten his missionary roots, he was also one of the most politically influential planters in Hawaii, and a comrade to Claus Spreckels and Parker Judson, two of the California sugar kings. Grandfather Ainsworth and Townsend had expected Zachary to become a strong leader so he could one day take over the Derrington sugar enterprise. Eden believed their expectations were unfair, and she knew Zachary felt the weight of their disappointment.

Eden also understood Zachary’s hostility toward his father and Silas. Silas had appeared at Kea Lani plantation one morning while the family was gathered on the lanai for breakfast. Walking right up to the table, he calmly introduced himself as Silas
Townsend
Derrington, placing great emphasis on that middle name.

As Eden remembered that life-altering scene on the lanai, she could still feel the appalling emotions that settled over those seated around the breakfast table. It seemed as though a full minute passed before anyone spoke. Townsend appeared as though he might fall out of his cane chair, but then his bravado pulled him through the moment, and he took control, boldly addressing the boy.“Well, well, Silas. When did you arrive in Honolulu? You should have let us know. I’d have had someone meet you and bring you here to Kea Lani. So, what do you think of the Derrington sugar plantation?” He acted as if the young man’s appearance was no more than a family member dropping by unexpectedly.

With the arrival of Silas Derrington, Townsend began making public overtures that Zachary found alarming. Who knew which way the family winds would blow? It would depend on Grandfather Ainsworth’s reaction when he returned. Grandfather had been in
Washington D.C., when Silas arrived, so he too would be in for a surprise that afternoon. He now had another grandson—an
illegitimate
one. How would he respond to Silas? The injustice Townsend had done to both Zachary and to Silas had angered Eden.

Silas was perhaps the one who had suffered most for his father’s sin, though Zachary would certainly disagree. Townsend, meanwhile, continued to show himself calloused enough in conscience to proceed on his life’s journey without apparent guilt toward God, his wife, or either of his two sons. How that was possible, Eden often wondered.

“‘A real
man
, my son Silas,’” Zachary mimicked Townsend’s voice. “‘Takes after me, his father.’”

Eden, incredulous, looked at him. Had Townsend actually said this in front of Zachary? The anger on his face confirmed it.

“That’s what he said,” Zachary choked. “Said it right in front of me to some of the legislators at the Iolani Palace dinner meeting last night. And all I could do was to stand there embarrassed, my feet glued to the floor. He boasts of the relationship growing strong between him and his ‘firstborn son,’ Silas.” He gritted. “It brings him pleasure, he said. And Silas
illegitimate
. But me? Oh, no. Not a word, even though I’ve been loyal to him all my life.”

Eden was aware of Townsend’s favoritism toward Silas, and flaunting it publicly was unwise, serving only to feed jealousy and competition between the brothers. She could see jealousy, like an adder, sinking poisonous fangs into weak human flesh—Zachary’s. The tensions were increasing with time, and she saw no promise of resolution. If her uncle Townsend acted with impatience and recrimination, as he was likely to do, he would be adding fuel to the fire.

Was any good to come from Silas’s return to Honolulu? Perhaps Grandfather Ainsworth’s forthcoming response would put an end to Townsend’s behavior.

“I’ll try to warn Candace about Grandfather’s arrival as soon as I leave Ambrose,” she said.

Eden gazed off toward the pale blue water and clear sky. The palms rustled lazily in the tropic breeze beside the road. Just beyond the horizon a storm appeared to be building. Eden sensed that trouble would indeed come to test them all.

Keep thy heart with all diligence; for out of it are the issues of life
, she quoted from Proverbs 4:23.
Lord help us Derringtons
, she prayed.
We are all walking the cliff’s edge, where our hearts and convictions are concerned. To accomplish Your purpose for our lives is the true cause that will matter in the end
.

Z
achary drove along the narrow dirt road toward the little missionary church established by Eden’s parents. The familiar bungalow for Ambrose and Noelani stood nearby, a welcoming sight for Eden. Noelani would be up at Hawaiiana caring for baby Kip while Ambrose was home preparing for the Sunday service.

Her cousin halted the buggy near the roadside and was about to climb down to assist her, but she remembered his injured knee and stopped him.

“Zachary, before I go … don’t think I’m trying to interfere, because I understand how you feel. But saying too much to your father in Silas’s presence can’t strengthen your cause. Wait until Grandfather is home, then tell him how you feel about Silas. Remember, Grandfather doesn’t yet know.”

His face was glum. “Sometimes I wonder. Grandfather appears to know more than he ever expresses.”

“Yes, but he’s never approved of your father’s ways with women. Let Grandfather handle Townsend
and
Silas.”

He nodded. “Don’t worry. I won’t go after Silas with flying fists.”
Under his breath he added, “Though sometimes I’d like to teach him a lesson.”

She winced. Silas looked as though he might be able to defend himself too well. She could have reminded her cousin that he was a Christian now, and Christians did not use their fists to settle family disagreements, but Zachary often told her she was too preachy. As far as she was concerned, it just made good sense to remind him of what the Scriptures taught….

“Remember,” he asked. “Try to get Candace and Great-aunt Nora here before Grandfather arrives this afternoon, will you?”

She dismounted from the buggy, feeling a warm gust of moist Pacific air rustling her gray nurses dress with its red cross. She watched soberly as Zachary turned the horse and buggy onto Derrington property, where a secondary road led to the plantation house built in the days of Grandfather Ainsworth’s father.

As Zachary rode away, her restive mind could envision strife personified as jackals running close at the buggy’s wheels, nipping and snarling as Zachary set out to keep the meeting. “We have your emotions,” she imagined them boasting. “You’ll soon be ours to parcel out like a dead rabbit.”

The mission church spoke to her of peace, for within rested the treasure chest of truth that would answer all debates and silence the quarreling voices of strife. The wooden building stood across the road on a gardened plot of land once owned by the Derringtons but now part of a larger acreage sold by her uncle Townsend to Parker Judson. When Rafe had agreed to a partnership with Parker Judson to develop the pineapple plantation using the prized slips Rafe brought from French Guiana, he’d gone out of his way to negotiate with Parker Judson to allow the historical church to remain untouched on its own special plot of ground, along with Ambrose’s house. For that act of faith and devotion on Rafe’s part, she loved him all the more.

Eden quickened her steps, turning her thoughts to the new problem she must deal with. Ambrose could advise her, as he had
been doing since her childhood, and he would pray for her when she went to speak with Rafe about Kip. Ambrose was a bedrock in her life. He had always been there for her while her father, Dr. Jerome, was away on his quest.

She hurried along the path past the pearl fishery once belonging to Matt Easton, but now controlled by uncle Townsend since he’d married Celestine.

The sun was warm, and she resettled her fiber sun hat while the trade wind, smelling of the sea, stirred around her and flirted with the tropical foliage, weaving mysterious patterns and hinting of many adventures yet to come. She smiled, wondering what those adventures might be.

Eden neared the church, nestled among the palm trees and topped by a white cross. The cross beckoned to the weary and sin burdened, and the door was placed perfectly in the center, for “Jesus is the true door that opens to forgiveness and access to the Father,” her father had said.

Inside there were no fancy furnishings or stained glass murals, only wooden pews and plain, square windows. As she stepped onto the bare wooden floor, the familiar grit of beach sand greeted the soles of her shoes. Somehow the sand always found its way inside. It did not matter, though, for in this little church amid the soft rustle of palms and the distant breaking of waves, Eden felt a fellowship with heaven. She suspected she was sentimentally inclined toward the church as a link to join her heart to her parents because they had established it before her birth.

When several Hawaiians working for the Derrington family in the pearl fishery had made professions of faith and were baptized—in the pearl fishery—her father, Jerome, had requested land from his father, Ainsworth, to build the church. A missionary friend of Jerome and Rebecca had served as pastor until the American mission board transferred him to the Big Island.

Jerome, with Rebecca’s help, had managed to keep the church open until the tragedy of leprosy struck Rebecca and shed been sent
to Molokai. Her father, a broken man, had then departed the islands in search of a cure.

After that, Ambrose had stepped in to carry on the work as lay minister. The Bible teaching had borne lasting fruit when a nearly blind Hawaiian woman became his first female convert. That woman had been Noelani’s mother. The entire family had turned to the Lord, and Ambrose eventually married Noelani.

Now that Eden knew Rebecca was a leper on Molokai, she understood why her father had immersed himself in his work of trying to find a cure. His dedication to all the lepers on Molokai had spurred him on to travel the world doing medical research for Kalihi Hospital. Despite his prolonged absences—she had seen him only a dozen times since Rebecca’s incarceration at the leper colony—there remained a special connection between them.

He had not written much to her in those early years, but later, as she grew older, his letters would arrive filled with news of the world’s medical needs. Eden found them anything but dull. As the years continued his fiery, John Brown-style passion for his cause inspired her to share his feelings. Perhaps it had been his fascinating letters, written from steamy jungles in South America and the Far East, that helped forge her decision to enter the medical profession. Joining the Kalihi staff at the hospital had been her choice, and now more than ever, knowing her mother yet lived, she was determined to follow her father from Kalihi Hospital to Molokai if given the opportunity.

Eden walked the narrow aisle toward the cubicle that Ambrose used for his office. The enclosure was piled with pulpit commentaries, some of which shed bought for him in San Francisco and sent by steamer, and it provided a quiet place to pray. He needed the solitude, for Noelani’s many Hawaiian brothers and sisters and nieces and nephews loved to call on them, so their small house was often hectic with visitors.

Ambrose must have heard her steps, for he stood up in the cubicle and looked out into the small sanctuary.

He was a big man, and at age sixty had developed a rounded middle, but unlike her tall, slim Grandfather Ainsworth, Pastor Ambrose’s stolid stance and dark, smiling eyes brought her a sense of paternal security. Ambrose’s usually sleek silver hair was tousled, as though he might have been praying on his knees with his head in both hands, as he often did.

“Well, Eden, my dear, come in, come in. I guess you know Noelani’s up at the big house? Nora and Candace are there also.”

“Yes, I know, but I wanted to talk to you first if you have time.”

“There’s always time for what matters most. Come up to the bungalow, and we’ll enjoy some of Rafe’s Kona coffee. He brought a load of good beans back from Hanalei yesterday and dropped some off here for the Monday meeting.”

She followed him through the church door and out along the flowered path toward the bungalow where she’d lived her childhood under his and Noelani’s compassionate patronage.

“I hear Rafe’s too busy to attend those Monday night meetings,” she said casually.

“Zachary tell you that? Well, Zach’s the lad I worry about. That’s not to say Rafe isn’t causing me a few sleepless hours lately, but Zach’s behaving strangely this past month or so.”

“It’s Silas,” she said quietly as they walked along. “Uncle Townsend’s been boasting about his firstborn son and dismissing Zachary.”

“Yes, a pity for both young men.” He shook his head sadly. “Unless something changes in the near future with Townsend, I’m afraid there’s real trouble ahead. And Zachary isn’t alone in it.”

She thought of Celestine and wondered how the matters between her and Townsend could be solved, when Townsend remained unrepentant.

“I can’t help thinking that Townsend’s boasts of Silas are another insult to Celestine. He’s a selfish fellow and needs all the prayers we can muster, Eden. He’s at the top of my list.”

She had sometimes wondered who was first on Ambrose’s precious prayer list, but knew it was a holy matter between him and
God. Hearing this brought a twinge of conviction. She rarely prayed for her uncle Townsend. To be truthful, she didn’t like him. It was easier to pray for lepers she didn’t know than a man who gloated over his shameful affairs.
This is something I need to deal with
, she thought.