The Islands (19 page)

‘Dances? Kiann'e, you dance for tourists!' Catherine smiled because she thought her Hawaiian friend was taking everything too seriously.

Kiann'e threw up her hands. ‘I know, I know. But I'm trying to show people the classical and more traditional dances, not the suggestive or corny hulas that have been “westernised” by popular singers and Hollywood films.'

‘You said Mr Kitamura is coming over . . . I wonder if I could meet up with him. I bought a camera from him but it's a bit complicated. I think I need some help. And I'd love to catch up with Eleanor,' said Catherine, trying to calm her friend down by changing the topic.

Kiann'e refused to be deflected. ‘Come to the rally! We have a lot of people joining us. Lester is determined to be there. There're a lot of kamaianas coming along. You could bring Bradley. I like to think that once visitors and malahinis like yourself understand what's happening, you'll support us too.'

‘Oh, I don't think Bradley would like that. He's so concerned about me doing the right thing for his career. He's worried enough about the dinner party I have to do for his boss and his wife and some others.'

‘But you're not concerned about a dinner party, are you?' asked Kiann'e. And when Catherine didn't answer for a moment, she added gently, ‘Come over to our place and see Kitamura and Eleanor. Bring Bradley, let him hear what we have to say. Willi is coming to the rally.'

‘Well, I'll ask him,' said Catherine doubtfully.

But with the looming dinner party Catherine put off mentioning the rally to Bradley and arranged to meet Eleanor and Mr Kitamura at Kiann'e's house. When she read the recipe for beef Wellington she threw it to one side. Too hard, she thought. She decided to phone Mollie. She needed her sense of humour at this moment.

Mollie immediately made her feel better. ‘Oh, for God's sake . . . I told you what to do, go out and buy stuff. Cosy up to your favourite restaurant.'

‘Actually, I had thought of asking my friend Kiann'e to see if the chef at her hotel could do something for me.'

‘There you go. Ask him and take your own pot. Buy a dessert and add to it. Easy.'

‘Mollie, I feel terrible. What if Bradley says no?'

‘Don't ask him, I wouldn't tell him . . . unless he asks. Get it all ready while he's at work. So what else have you been doing? You must be so tanned, lucky duck.'

‘I swim early in the morning with Kiann'e.' Catherine went on to tell Mollie about Kiann'e's family, and the protest rally.

‘Well, you're going aren't you?' demanded Mollie. ‘That's not right that they can toss people out of their homes. And big hotels we can see anywhere. Next time, when I come to see you I want the postcard view . . . the empty beach, a handsome surfer, those amazing cliffs.'

‘Okay, I'll fix it up,' replied Catherine. ‘But you can't be serious about me going to the protest rally. Bradley will have a fit when I tell him.'

‘Then don't tell him. Stay in the background, don't get up the front where you'll be photographed. Hey, there's an idea,' exclaimed Mollie. ‘Take your fancy camera and tell anyone who asks you're a professional photographer.'

‘It's been so good talking with you, Mol. Apart from Kiann'e I haven't got a close friend here. The other wives are nice but we have nothing in common. I guess I don't try very hard, though,' said Catherine.

‘Listen, I'll call you next time. We'll take turns, say, every couple of weeks. How's that sound?' said Mollie.

‘Great. I want to know all about this fellow you're seeing.'

‘He's lots of fun. And that's important isn't it?' said Mollie. ‘Good luck with the dinner. Just say it's your mother's recipe!'

Catherine took Mollie's advice and the dinner was a big success. The chef at the Moonflower had entered into the deception with glee. Catherine carried home a large pot of bouillabaisse, a tray of stuffed mushrooms to be baked in the oven as an appetiser and a key lime pie that stood five inches high. She was busy making garlic bread and a salad when Bradley came home with flowers for the table. Catherine told him she had everything under control.

‘I'm fine with everything, darling, but could you fix the drinks?'

‘It looks wonderful, Catherine. Smells good too.' He came up behind her and gave her a hug and kissed the top of her head. ‘There'll probably be a lot of shop talk, but you'll be busy with the food anyway. Oh, and don't worry if the Commander nods off, take no notice, he tends to do that. Ten minutes later he wakes up and picks up where he left off.'

After everyone left and Catherine had stacked the dishes and Bradley had tidied away the wine glasses and ashtrays and taken the trash down to the end of the hall to the garbage chute, she sat down to enjoy a nightcap and put her feet up, and to tell him how she'd pulled off the meal. But Bradley wanted to go to bed and make love. He kept saying how wonderful the meal was, how impressed Mrs Goodwin had been and how happy he was with the whole evening that Catherine shrank from disillusioning him right then. She'd tell him at breakfast. Make a bit of a joke of it and promise to practise or take a course and cook the next dinner party herself.

But in the morning he was tired, running late and distracted so the opportunity didn't present itself. And so Catherine never did tell him. She did however tell Bradley she was meeting Mr Kitamura and was going to ask for a few lessons on how to use the camera she'd bought from him.

‘That's a good idea. I thought that the camera was a bit of a white elephant. But it was your money. It will be good to get to use it properly.'

‘Eleanor Lang is in town too, I'd love to have her over.'

‘Whatever you like, though I'm surprised you were so concerned about entertaining the Goodwins and yet have no qualms about inviting such a hospitality queen over,' he joked.

‘I know Eleanor is the hostess with the mostest, but she's friendly and I like her a lot. Besides, your career doesn't hinge on my entertaining her correctly. Kiann'e asked if we'd like to go to her house, too. A lot of Kauai people are going to be there,' began Catherine, but Bradley shook his head.

‘I don't think so. Why? I don't have anything in common with them. I don't know why you spend so much time with these people, Catherine. You hardly ever mix with the other women here. Why don't you play tennis with them? Join the social club . . .'

‘Darling, we've been through this before. I see them at the Wives' Club dos, I've already agreed to work on the Christmas committee,' said Catherine.

‘Okay, whatever you like. I'm glad you're keeping busy and not moping. Some wives get dreadfully homesick and it can be very distracting for their husbands – especially if they have to go to sea.'

But Bradley must have thought about Catherine's feeling bored or lonely because that evening he announced, ‘I have tomorrow off. How about we have a day to ourselves? Take a picnic to Hanauma Bay, go up to a waterfall, take a drive somewhere?'

Catherine was surprised, but pleased, and hugged him. ‘I'll organise a picnic lunch.'

For Catherine, it was a perfect day. The pair walked down the slope to the semi-circular beach, which was beautifully protected from large waves, and settled themselves among palm trees close to the sandy beach. The water was jewel-clear and the dark shadows of the coral reef in the shallower water was already dotted with snorkellers.

‘This is just glorious, what a fabulous place,' sighed Catherine as she spread out their towels and picnic basket. ‘We can alternate between the beach, the water and here in the shade. And there's hardly anyone here.'

‘It's still early. And the middle of the week,' said Bradley. ‘There's lots of marine life to look at if you float around the reef. This is the crater of a volcano that was flooded when part of the rim collapsed. It's deeper further out and great for scuba diving. Ever tried it?'

‘Not me. I grew up in a swimming pool so this suits me just fine.'

‘Me, too,' said Bradley, taking off his sunglasses. ‘I'm going in.'

She watched his tall lean figure in his favourite, faded batik swim shorts stride to the water. She reflected how comfortable they were together now, the strangeness of being with another person every day had worn off. They'd settled into a routine, they knew each other's habits, likes and dislikes. Bradley was always polite, kind and considerate. Their lovemaking was familiar and pleasant, although the issue of starting a family had resurfaced after they'd moved into their new home.

Bradley had looked at Catherine's side of the vanity where she always laid out her make-up and lotions, hairbrush and other personal items.

‘Where's your pill packet?' he'd asked. ‘I hope you're still taking them.'

‘Why? Is that a problem?” she'd joked.

But Bradley had become serious. ‘Catherine, your getting pregnant is something we have already discussed. It affects my postings, where we live, all manner of things. We want to be able to afford children and do it right, when the time is appropriate.'

‘Okay, okay, for heaven's sake. I'm keeping them in here with other stuff.' She yanked open the top drawer. But she was cranky with him and felt she was being watched. She wished they could just let nature take its course and if she did fall pregnant, well, so be it. But she continued to take her daily contraceptive as deep down she had a niggling fear that if she became pregnant at an ‘inconvenient' time Bradley might, just might, ask her to have an abortion. Maybe she was being unfair to him, but it was a hypothetical situation she wasn't prepared to raise.

They swam, drifting and floating in the warm crystal water as colourful fish darted beneath them. The steep lush hillside rose above them and Catherine could imagine they were cast adrift, the only people on this beautiful island. But she knew above them wound the Kalanianaole Highway and she thought again of Kiann'e's anger at the threat of increasing development in the Islands.

As she handed Bradley a sandwich she asked, ‘What do you think this place will look like in ten, twenty years?'

‘Well, this won't change, it's now a protected marine conservation area. They might put in an aquatic museum, a restaurant, big bitumen parking lot. Mind you, there could be more houses along the coast road leading here. Hawaii is changing.'

‘But is that good? Local people are getting pushed off their land and farms because rich Japanese and American developers want to build golf courses and condos.'

‘Catherine, you've been listening to your friends too much. Hawaii is part of America, participating in the American dream, and it's un-American to stop progress. We Americans admire success and achievement.'

‘That's fine, Bradley, but Hawaii is different from the rest of the US. It was a country of its own, with its own people, traditions, culture, language . . . and that's all being taken over.'

‘Catherine, please! These people you've been seeing sound a bit radical. Development brings jobs and most Hawaiians want to have a nice home, a nice car, a good lifestyle. Have what the rest of America works towards. I hope you don't raise this in front of people like the Goodwins, or any of our friends.'

‘Your friends, Bradley. My friends are Hawaiians and they're different. I don't think they do want to be like people in . . . Deauville, or wherever.'

‘Catherine, an Hawaiian is a mixture of races anyway. I don't believe you know any pure Hawaiians.'

‘What about Abel John at the Palm Grove?' demanded Catherine.

‘Ethnically he probably is. But look what he does for a living. He caters to tourists and trades on his background, how ethical is that?'

‘There's nothing wrong with making visitors aware there was a long tradition and culture here that's being lost. I'm going back in the sea.' Catherine stomped down the beach feeling angry and frustrated. She felt she'd been chastised like a schoolgirl. She always thought she could never win an argument with Bradley, he was always calm, rational and somewhat condescending in any discussion and that infuriated her. It wasn't usually till later when she'd calmed down that she came up with a point she wished she'd made at the time.

Suddenly she decided she'd go with Kiann'e to the rally on Saturday morning. She'd make some excuse to Bradley and he'd never know where she was. Now that she'd had the discussion with Bradley, Catherine felt it was important. She just wished she was more knowledgeable and had the courage to walk at the front with her friends. She'd never been part of a protest or felt the need to participate in one. But since being in the Islands, meeting Kiann'e and her family and friends, something had stirred in Catherine.

She realised that, although she lived in rural Australia, she had had limited contact with and knowledge of Aboriginal culture. There were Aboriginal families in Peel and on the outskirts but they kept to themselves. Guiltily she began to reflect she had become far more interested in traditional Hawaiian culture than that of the first Australians. But she knew she was not alone in her ignorance of Aboriginal history, traditions and culture.

She had superficial impressions of corroboree dances, men carving canoes from tree bark, brilliant stockmen in the outback, piccaninnies with large black eyes, the names of some Aboriginal footballers as well as that of a popular singer, and the uglier side of shanties and humpies, the problems stemming from alcohol. Was this what Kiann'e meant when she described the superficial stereotypical images people outside Hawaii had of their culture?

By the time she walked out of the ocean to rejoin Bradley, who smiled and held out her towel to her, Catherine had made up her mind. If this was her new home and her future was linked to this country, she was determined she wouldn't be a bystander but would learn all she could.