The Islands (57 page)

Honolulu Airport was bigger and glitzier and there was a troupe of singers and dancers to welcome them. There were big advertisements in glass cases for hotels showing luxurious high-rise glass towers that seemed to dwarf even Diamond Head.

‘Holy cow, the joint has stepped up a bit,' said Mollie. ‘Why isn't your publisher putting you up in the penthouse of one of those?'

‘Because it's a small publishing house and I wanted to stay at the Moonflower. Oh, there's Kiann'e.' Catherine broke into a run to embrace her beautiful friend who was holding leis and smiling just as it had always been. Catherine buried her face in the creamy plumeria and pikake flowers, inhaling their perfume and was flooded with memories and sensations that enveloped her only in the Islands.

Mollie did the talking as they drove from the airport to Kiann'e's house. Even she was astounded by the changes to Oahu, the crowded freeways, high rises, apartment complexes crawling up the hillsides, the shopping malls and touristy restaurants and resorts. Catherine was glad Mollie was exclaiming for both of them. She was too overwhelmed to speak. There had been so much change, some places were unrecognisable, but others, so very familiar.

Once they were in the residential streets of Kiann'e's neighbourhood, Catherine drew a breath. ‘Well, at least some things are still the same. You and Willi are still in the same house.'

‘Yes. But I've also inherited Mother's house on Kauai. The Daughters of Hawaii restored it and it's a kind of living museum that holds special treasures. We still have meetings there and that's where the offices of the sovereignty movement are.'

‘Have things moved forward much?' asked Catherine.

‘Well, yes and no. Senator Akaka introduced a bill in 2000 to establish a process for native Hawaiians to gain recognition similar to that of native Americans but it keeps going back to the drawing board for modifications and changes and being “reinterpreted”,' said Kiann'e. ‘But the bill is the “foot in the door”, so we hope reparations and reconciliation will come after that.'

‘What's that about?' asked Mollie.

‘This bill recognises the political obligation that the US government has to the people who continuously lived on these islands for hundreds of years. It is very sad, but it is true that the social ills in Hawaii today affect a disproportionate number of native Hawaiians,' said Kiann'e.

‘Like what?' asked Catherine.

‘Drugs, homelessness . . . disaffected youth, unemployment, it's all out of balance. Mother always predicted that this would happen,' she answered.

‘Balance. I remember Abel John talking about that,' said Catherine. ‘He talked about the balance between men and women, individuals and communities. That without the concept of balance society won't get anywhere. Like a canoe without a paddle or a sail. How're Helena and the kids?'

‘Grown up of course. His elder son graduated from university and he's working with us now. He'll be a leader. The younger ones don't remember their father. But the rest of us do,' said Kiann'e quietly.

Later that day Kiann'e drove Catherine and Mollie over to the Moonflower, where she still occasionally danced. For old times' sake they went to the Moonflower's dining room for dinner that evening with Willi and Kiann'e's two grown-up children.

‘After my kids found out that I was coming here with Catherine, they made me promise to organise a family get-together here next year,' said Mollie.

‘Be sure to let me know so we can meet them,' said Kiann'e.

The following day Catherine met her publisher who congratulated her on her book and explained the details of the launch party, which would be held on the big terrace of the Moonflower. Vince, now partially retired from the
Hawaii News
, had provided large blow-ups of the photos Catherine had taken for her articles all those years ago as well as big prints from the book about Lester as the backdrop to the ceremony.

‘You know, Catherine, looking at the pictures of yours that Vince brought and reading your articles, I think there's another book that you might like to do: Hawaii in the seventies compared with the Islands today.'

‘Sounds like you and Rob could come and stay for a month to do the research,' said Mollie when Catherine told her of her publisher's suggestion.

‘I don't think so. Rob wouldn't like to be away from
Heatherbrae
for that long. Anyway, I think I'd rather remember the Islands as they were,' she said.

‘Then how about we go on a bit of a tour around and see how Waikiki and the North Shore have changed,' suggested Mollie. ‘And do a bit of a pub crawl like we did the last time.'

Catherine laughed. ‘I don't know if I have the stamina to keep up with you.'

Mollie drove their rental car and Catherine, watching from the passenger's window, was amazed at the new development. While the old TradeWinds apartment building was still there, it was buried behind buildings and a motorway. There were more hotels squeezed into that area, but her old haunt, the Chart House, was still there.

‘Let's go there for dinner one night,' said Mollie.

Waikiki was jammed with new buildings. As Mollie said, ‘It's very touristy, but buzzy. Heck, it's fun.'

At Kapiolani Park they were lucky to find a parking spot so they walked through the park, past the statue of Queen Kapiolani. They saw a stand asking people to sign a petition for an Hawaiian candidate to represent Hawaii in Congress and at the rotunda there was an advertisement for a children's hula contest and show.

‘I remember when I brought the Wives' Club to a hula show,' said Catherine. ‘Bradley thought they'd hate it, but everyone loved it. I wonder what's happened to all those women.'

‘None of them would have had a life like yours and Rob's',' said Mollie, linking her arm through Catherine's. ‘So how do you feel about being back here?'

‘Too early to tell. It's a bit overwhelming. I think Kauai will be the real test,' Catherine answered lightly.

At sunset, Mollie and Catherine sat beneath the banyan tree on the terrace of the classic Moana Hotel, refurbished yet again.

‘Well, they can't change the sunset,' said Mollie.

‘I have to say it was romantic here . . . I think this setting swept me off my feet as much as Bradley,' said Catherine.

‘Before you marry someone you should go through the boring test,' said Mollie. ‘Be somewhere boring, with boring people, where things get stuffed up. So you see each other in a real light in real life. I told my daughter to take that Gordon of hers off on a camping trip before she agreed to marry him.'

‘Gordon! He's such a computer geek and cafe-latte type. A boulevardier,' laughed Catherine.

‘Exactly. Trudy isn't exactly the outdoor type either so the whole trip was a disaster,' said Mollie gleefully. ‘But they were able to laugh about it and coped so I figured they'd be all right together.' She sipped her cocktail. ‘Can you believe I'm going to be a grandmother? Yikes. I don't look like a grandmother do I?' She struck a pose with a hand behind her head of wild curls. She wore a strapless long sundress over her ample bosom, big gold hoop earrings and had tucked a large hibiscus behind one ear. Mollie was shocked to find muu-muus were no longer de rigueur but swore she'd find something Hawaiian to wear at home.

‘You're still larger than life, Mol,' said Catherine fondly.

‘That's right, you need me to boss you around,' said Mollie firmly. ‘Now, do you know what you're wearing and what you're going to say at your book shindig?'

As she had done so often before, Kiann'e said she'd make special leis for Catherine's book launch.

‘I'll never forget the ones you made for her wedding,' said Mollie. ‘They were divine.'

‘My daughter helps me, she's learning the kaona, the old knowledge,' said Kiann'e. ‘Would you like to come with us? It's a special time.'

‘Sure, that'd be fun. Don't you think, Cath?' said Mollie.

‘We have to go before sunrise,' said Kiann'e.

‘Oh,' said Mollie, her enthusiasm wilting.

‘It'll be fun. Interesting. Yes, we'd love to go with you,' said Catherine.

It was barely light and windy as they drove over the Pali the next morning and turned onto a side road into a valley. Kiann'e pulled off the road and handed Catherine and Mollie a flashlight and a woven basket.

‘You might need this. Anika and I will go ahead.'

As soon as they entered the cool, damp rainforest, the women fell silent. Kiann'e's tall, beautiful daughter led the way, her steps sure in the dim light. Catherine and Mollie kept their eyes to the ground following the pool of yellow light from the flashlight so they didn't trip over thick roots, stones or plants on the path. It wasn't until Kiann'e and Anika stopped that they looked up and saw where they were. They'd come to a small stream singing over stones lined by mossy boulders. Tall trees reached towards the pearling sky. Anika looked to her mother.

Kiann'e lifted her hands and softly began to chant, her sweet voice rising upland as she called to the spirits across time. Anika crouched and picked a handful of small damp ferns and expertly braided them into a circlet and placed it on the waters of the stream as the notes of her mother's chant drifted across the valley.

‘We are honouring the aina, our land, saying a mahalo, for allowing us to be here,' Kiann'e explained to Mollie.

They walked single file along the edge of the stream and Mollie touched Catherine's hand and whispered, ‘I can smell them. The flowers.'

Kiann'e and Anika pointed out the ferns, seeds, strands of moss and, further along, the flowering trees.

‘It's best the flowers are picked with the dew on them,' said Kiann'e.

As the sky lightened they gathered the flowers and ferns and carefully placed them in their baskets.

Kiann'e held up certain flowers, tucking a fern beneath one or curling a leaf and seed pod around a perfect cluster of pikake, already thinking of how she'd create each lei. ‘Making lei is creating a connection between nature and us, it is a gift that speaks of many things. Hello, welcome, farewell, good luck, congratulations.'

‘I wish they lasted longer,' said Mollie.

‘Like many things, it is the intangible, the memory that stays with you.' Kiann'e smiled and held out a plumeria blossom. ‘Smell and remember. Now each time you see and smell this flower you might remember being here, these moments.'

The sun had risen and its first rays penetrated the rainforest canopy sending shafts of misty light through the trees to sparkle on the stream. Dewdrops began to melt like tears. The women felt privileged to be there. Even Mollie's exuberance was subdued. On the way out of the valley with their baskets of flowers and greenery, Kiann'e and Anika talked about lei designs, the artistic interpretation of them, the art of blending each individual perfect bloom in a harmonious whole and the many various ways leis were strung, backed and put together.

Kiann'e and Anika left them at the hotel and waved goodbye. ‘See you tonight!'

Mollie linked her arm through Catherine's. ‘Well, that was worth getting up for. Thanks. Now let's have breakfast, it's still early!'

Catherine was in a daze as the book launch drew near and let Mollie take over. She had already been interviewed on radio and the
Hawaii News
had written a major feature about her and the book, complete with photo. Rob and the girls had rung to wish her luck.

Mollie handed her a glass of champagne as Catherine fiddled with her hair. ‘Here, a dressing drink. Stop fussing, you look gorgeous.'

‘I'm not used to being the centre of attention. Vince said it'd be all right to keep my speech short. I'm so nervous. It's ridiculous.'

‘Just thank everyone you can think of, say a few nice things about being back here. Don't tell them the whole place is ruined and how shocked you are by the traffic and the homeless people,' advised Mollie.

‘Well, I am still in shock after going out to Makaha,' said Catherine. ‘When I lived here, the North Shore was deserted. Just surfers and a few locals lived out there. Now it's jammed with the homeless, thousands of them.' She shook her head at the memory of the rows and rows of tents, camps and makeshift shelters strung along the beachfront for miles.

‘If you're going to be homeless, Hawaii is better and warmer than New York City, that's for sure,' said Mollie.

‘What's sad is so many of them are Hawaiians. They can't afford to live in their own state,' sighed Catherine.

‘Yes, I know,' said Mollie. ‘But come on, show time.'

Catherine was amazed when she saw how many people were gathered. Vince Akana as her old boss had appointed himself her official escort and took her around introducing her to guests. It turned out many were old friends, some she recognised, some she didn't.

When she saw the crowd, she was glad that Kiann'e had arranged a small get-together with Aunty Lani ahead of the formal function. Aunty Lani, still large and smiling but with grey hair, had hugged Catherine, tears streaming down her cheeks. Catherine had promised her they'd have to time to chat properly when she and Mollie went over to Kauai.

‘Uncle, he getting on, but he want to see you. He remembers the time he got you to look after those baby goats.'

‘I remember. I have a few goats at home,' said Catherine. And as Mollie shot her an amused glance, she added, ‘Angora goats, Mollie.'

As she walked onto the terrace of the Moonflower, seeing the tiki torches flaring with the ocean behind, the flower arrangements and a small troupe of young dancers in ti-leaf skirts that Kiann'e had organised, Catherine was suddenly reminded of the Palm Grove.

A small, elderly Chinese woman came up and greeted Catherine with excitement. She looked familiar and as Catherine was trying to place her, she pumped Catherine's hand. ‘Me Mrs Hing, malasada lady.'