The Islands (33 page)

She longed for someone to talk to about this, to reassure her that she wasn't a shallow, unfaithful wife. Mollie? But as much as they'd shared everything, Catherine couldn't bring herself to do that. She didn't want to admit to her best friend that even the most romantic-seeming marriage could have rents in it already. And, she acknowledged, there was the matter of pride. Bradley had seemed such a catch in their eyes at home. Mollie would tell her she was being a fool, forget what had happened with PJ, everyone makes a mistake sometime and just get on with life with Bradley.

And PJ probably considered their lovemaking a one night stand, great for the moment, but she was sure he would have moved on the next day, no regrets, no commitment.

I have to get on with my life, she told herself firmly. Forget PJ. It was a mantra she filed away. ‘Forget PJ. Forget PJ . . .'

Catherine decided that the best way to do this was to take some photos. She returned to her room for her camera and, following the sound of the music, she came to the main lagoon where guests were gathered, the bride and groom seated on big wicker chairs beneath the canopy watching the hula show.

The girl dancers knelt around the edge of the lagoon, singing and throwing flowers into the water while the solo dancer, standing on a floating bamboo raft in the centre of the lagoon in her ti-leaf skirt with leis around her neck, ankles and wrists, swayed gently to a classical hula. Then Mouse paddled in to harmonise with the singers. Through the camera lens Catherine caught sight of Eleanor in the background, quietly overseeing the food being laid out on long tables under the palms.

This would be a wedding this couple would never forget. Would they be back here for important anniversaries long into the future, wondered Catherine sadly.

She caught up with Mouse after breakfast. Dressed in a white shirt and slacks with a red cummerbund and lei, he had escorted the bridal party to their cars. As the last of the vintage Cadillacs swept away, he loosened his shirt, released the snap on the red band around his waist and walked to Catherine.

‘Don't feel comfortable starting day in straightjacket,' he said. ‘Good to see you back. Want another horse ride?'

Catherine snapped a quick shot of the weathered man in front of her. Clean-shaven with his slicked down hair and pristine shirt, he looked quite different from the Mouse she'd met previously. ‘What a great idea! I'd love to, Mouse. Do you have anywhere in mind, anywhere you have to go?'

‘I'm off till sunset. Tell me where you want to go,' he offered.

‘Do you know Beatrice Lo'Ohouiki? You know where she lives?'

‘She mighty important lady. Big leader of our people. You know her?'

‘Yes. I'm friends with her daughter Kiann'e and her sister Aunty Lani back on Oahu.'

Catherine was running out of holiday time and because she had not yet visited Kiann'e's mother she thought that this would be her project for today. Abel John assured her that the family were around and like most Hawaiian families, guests were always welcome, so Catherine could drop in any time.

‘I'd like to visit her today,' said Catherine.

‘We can ride to Lo'Ohouiki's house. You need some boots? We have them for guests.'

‘Wonderful. I can't think of anything else I'd rather do right now,' said Catherine. Anything, she thought, to take her mind off what had happened between herself and PJ. When she thought about the wild freed animal that had emerged during her lovemaking with PJ, she was horrified. She didn't know herself at all.

Riding with Mouse again brought back memories of
Heatherbrae
and how much she missed being on Parker. They took the same route away from the Palm Grove as last time but, instead of going into the hills as they had before, they went around the high coast road.

Catherine thought back to her first intimidating encounter with Beatrice before the rally. While Aunty Lani was warm and homey, Beatrice was imperious, regal and authoritative but, like her sister, Beatrice also had warm and engaging qualities.

They came to a slope and Mouse pointed upland. ‘We go mauka.'

The bluff rose above them and the horses broke into a canter as they rode towards the mountains. They followed a red dirt road that led eventually into a sheltered green valley of the abandoned fields of an old sugar plantation until they reached a double row of royal palms marking a driveway.

The winding driveway disappeared into lush gardens, very overgrown and obviously many years old. Giant traveller's palms stood like huge green fans beside ironwood and ohia trees and a massive poinciana bowed beneath the spread of its magnificent branches sprinkled with firey red flowers. Catherine was expecting Beatrice's residence to be a small farm perhaps, a tropical haven, but there before them loomed a grand white wooden two-storey house with shutters, elegant columns and two wings of buildings on either side.

‘It's a mansion!' exclaimed Catherine as they reined in the horses.

‘This one time the plantation manager's home. Before that, some of the royal family lived here. A princess related to Lo'Ohouiki. Now she has family home again.'

‘Maybe I should have made an appointment,' worried Catherine. But a man came towards them from the main entrance and signalled them to tether the horses to the side fence.

‘You visit, I'll stay here with the horses.' Mouse reached for his cigarettes.

Catherine took a few pictures of the beautiful old home and its tangled garden. As she stepped onto the wide verandah an elegant haole woman in a muu-muu came to greet her.

‘Aloha. You've come to see Mrs Lo'Ohouiki?'

‘Yes. My name is Catherine Connor. I'm a friend of her daughter's.'

‘Ah, yes, of course. Do come in. I'm Verna Oldham. Our meeting is nearly finished. You're in time for morning tea.'

‘Oh dear, I hope I'm not interrupting.'

‘Not at all.'

Catherine followed her down the hallway of polished wood hung with old photographs and paintings, past a large carved hallstand. The walls were covered in old-fashioned blue and cream regency striped wallpaper and there were large urns of ferns. It was very Victorian, very gracious. She longed to take photos. She wondered if Kiann'e had grown up here. She had always assumed that Kiann'e had grown up in a casual, fun, outdoor setting like Aunty Lani's. This home was very different.

Beatrice and four other ladies were seated in a sunroom in a couple of wicker chairs and on a long sofa. A polished carved koa wood table with a lace cloth was set for morning tea. The women were all dressed in formal muu-muus and leis. Beatrice stood up and welcomed Catherine.

‘Catherine, what a lovely surprise. Ladies, this is a very good friend of Kiann'e's.'

Catherine was embraced by Beatrice who then introduced the other women. They looked like Americans but there was a lilt to their accents. They were older women, two wore flowers tucked into their hair and they had the look of long-time local residents.

‘I do hope I'm not interrupting. Abel John suggested I just drop in . . .'

‘Of course. You're welcome any time. Our door is always open. We were about to have coffee.'

‘I'll bring in the pot,' said Verna.

Beatrice patted the sofa beside her and Catherine sat down.

‘Excuse my jeans. I rode here from the Palm Grove.'

‘How lovely. What fun,' responded the ladies.

‘Catherine, this is the local Kauai chapter of the Daughters of Hawaii,' said Beatrice in an explanation of the gathering. ‘The organisation was formed in 1903 and all our members must be able to trace their lineage back to at least 1880. The seven founders of the organisation were all born in the Islands of missionary parents.'

‘Many of our ancestors were missionaries who married into Hawaiian society,' added Verna, beginning to pour the coffee.

‘And what is the purpose of the organisation?' asked Catherine politely, realising that this was an elite group.

‘The original Daughters came together because they were distressed at the disintegration of our traditional culture so they wanted to perpetuate the memory and spirit of Old Hawaii and preserve the names and correct pronunciation of the Hawaiian language,' explained Beatrice. ‘Now we work with the community to protect historic and cultural sites. It's an ongoing project for us.'

‘How wonderful. That's so important. Is this house historic?' asked Catherine.

‘It is indeed. It belonged to one of my ancestors, a princess of the royal family. After she died the house fell into disrepair until a plantation manager and his wife decided to repair it, and live in it, and turn all the land around here into sugar cane crops because it seemed the most profitable export after all the sandalwood had been cut down. But they had a lot of bad luck and couldn't make the plantation pay. So my family reclaimed the house and my husband and I have raised our family here. Some of the descendants of the Chinese, Japanese and Filipino hands brought in to work in the fields still live in this area.'

‘That's interesting. So this house is linked to the story of sugar in the Islands. What other places have been preserved?' asked Catherine, thinking this might make a great photo essay. She wondered if Mouse could show her the remains of the old sugar mills.

‘Have you been to see Queen Emma's Summer Palace on Oahu?' asked one of the women. ‘That was one of the first big projects our grandmothers tackled. It took years to recover many of her artefacts and belongings. ‘

‘I'll make a point of it when I go back,' said Catherine. ‘What other things do you do?'

‘Well, we locate sacred sites and identify, restore and record their history. Then there are gardens, traditional agricultural sites, really anything pertaining to our way of life and culture that is threatened,' said Verna. ‘We've just got the Hulihe'e Palace on the Big Island put on the National Register of Historic Sites,' she added proudly. ‘Mind you, we're always after money to do these projects, so we run a lot of fundraisers and the like.'

Beatrice turned to Catherine. ‘It's not just about the physical things. Culture and history is held by the people too, in our customs, language and beliefs. You understand how passionate I am about keeping traditional Hawaii as its own entity within the USA. We don't want our culture swallowed up by the mainlanders.'

‘The Daughters are apolitical, though,' Verna hurriedly added.

‘I think what you're doing sounds wonderful. I'd love to know more. I'll ask Kiann'e to suggest where I should go when I get back. And could I take a photo of you all? And the house, please, Beatrice?'

‘Go ahead, honey. But first, our tea. Cream? Sugar? And some delicious cake.' Beatrice turned her attention to the table of food.

‘Would your friend like some?' asked Verna. ‘I'll go and ask him.'

Catherine enjoyed her morning tea and her conversation with the six very passionate ladies but she didn't want to keep Mouse waiting too long. She thanked Beatrice, farewelled the other ladies and as she walked outside she signalled to Mouse that she was ready to leave.

‘Give Kiann'e a kiss for me. And Lani, too. I hope you come back to Kauai before you leave the Islands,' said Beatrice, who had escorted her outside.

‘Oh, I'm not going anywhere yet!' said Catherine. ‘And of course, I'll always be in touch with Kiann'e. She's made me feel so at home here.'

‘She's being groomed, you know. She'll be playing an important part in the future of Hawaii,' said Beatrice. ‘Treasure her friendship.'

‘I do, indeed I do,' said Catherine. But she was startled by this comment and realised that Beatrice was referring to something other than her talented daughter being a dancer and passionate believer in Old Hawaii.

It was hot and still and Catherine could feel the sun burning the back of her neck as the horses walked side by side along the track back to the hotel. She discussed with Mouse the beautiful house and the magnificent old gardens. He nodded.

‘I went there when it was sugar plantation. The manager's wife had party for us camp kids.'

‘You lived in a sugar camp?'

He nodded. ‘My grandfather, he come from South China to work for this sugar company. He live in Chinese camp. It like a village from old country, my father tell me. The camps not mix much with other nationalities.'

‘Why was that? Hawaii is now such a blend of different cultures and people.'

‘I think them planters want mixed camps. Best way to mix 'em together. But language and customs hard to break down . . . it easier for workers who speak same language to talk with each other. Not feel homesick. Later system change. Workers could buy house or build on company land,' said Mouse.

‘Do you have happy memories of growing up round here?' asked Catherine, lifting her camera to take a shot of Mouse on horseback.

‘For sure. Every camp had own parties and traditions. We always let off firecrackers for celebrations.' Then Mouse sighed. ‘Some haole families very rich. Now people say, one day, all the green fields will be gone and there'll be houses and hotels all round here.' He swept his arm in an arc embracing the fallow sugar cane fields, the wild and beautiful landscape. ‘That's why we need Miss Beatrice. She's one fighting wahine.' They rode in silence, both wrapped in reflections of what had been.

Back at the Palm Grove, Catherine helped Mouse unsaddle the horses and groom them.

‘You don't have to help me, Miss Catherine. This part of job.'

‘I enjoy it. I miss being around a horse. And you've been so kind, Mouse. It's been an interesting morning.'

That evening Eleanor had dinner set up in her bungalow and she handed Catherine a glass of wine.

‘Here's to you, my dear girl. It's been lovely having you around. Sorry I haven't been able to spend a lot of time with you.'