The Kalakoas retreated to their hut, leaving Maggie and me bound to the stakes under the watchful eyes of the burly Hawaiians.
Hours passed, and as darkness settled over the clearing, men and women began to emerge from the forest. At least twenty had gathered by the time Buddy and Daniel Kalakoa entered the ring.
“Light the ceremonial fire,” he ordered. A man with a burning torch ignited the wood in the center of the ring.
“Summon the great spirits,” he ordered again, and another man lifted a conch shell to his lips.
As I listened to the blowing of the conch, it was hard to believe that just a few days ago I was filled with joy as Reverend Winslow summoned the good spirits to our wedding. Tonight, I was filled with dread.
Then Buddy spoke words in Hawaiian that I didn’t understand, and two men began rhythmic tapping of a hollowed gourd.
Daniel Kalakoa strode to the middle of the circle and began to chant, and three women dressed in ti leaf skirts swayed to the plaintive words of the chant.
The chanting and dancing started slowly, but as the evening wore on, the ceremony rose to a feverish pitch.
Suddenly, Daniel raised his hands over his head, and the circle became deathly quiet.
He motioned to Buddy, who entered the ring with a small gourd in his hand. He stood in front of us with the gourd extended.
“It is time,” he said. “You will drink.”
“The hell I will,” I replied.
He motioned to the tall Hawaiian who had brought us. He stood beside Maggie with one of those shark tooth war clubs.
“You will drink, or she will die before your eyes.”
I looked at Maggie and whispered, “I love you.”
Buddy put the gourd to my lips, and I swallowed the bitter liquid.
Everything turned black.
CHAPTER 18
I have only been under anesthetic once in my life when I had my wisdom teeth pulled, but I remember that when I awoke I was disoriented and confused.
When at last I stirred from the drug-induced sleep of Buddy’s powerful potion, that same awful feeling overwhelmed me.
The last thing I remembered was standing in the ring and Buddy pressing the gourd to my lips, then nothing.
Gradually, my foggy brain began to clear, and I realized that I was shivering uncontrollably. I was totally surrounded by darkness except for a faint glow in the distance. I sat upright and explored the area around me with outstretched hands. The floor under me was solid rock, cold and hard, and I could hear wind whistling from the direction of the dim light.
I got to my knees and began to explore further when I touched something solid—it was Maggie!
My hand moved up her body, and I pressed my fingers to her neck, searching for a pulse. She was alive, but like me, her body was quivering with the biting cold. I pulled her body close to mine and shook her gently.
“Maggie! Maggie! Wake up!”
She moaned and stirred ever so slightly then went limp in my arms.
“Maggie! You’ve got to wake up!” I shook her again.
“Wha … where … Walt? Is that you?”
“Yes, I’m here. Can you hear me? Are you hurt?”
“Walt, I’m so cold. Where are we?”
“I’m not quite sure. Can you sit up?”
She struggled to a sitting position, and we just sat there, clinging to each other for warmth.
Little by little, our eyes grew accustomed to the dark, and I thought I could distinguish some objects a few feet from us. I started to move away from her to examine them more closely, but she held me tight.
“Please don’t leave me. I’m so scared.”
“Yeah, me too.” I shivered. “But we can’t just sit here. We’ll freeze to death.”
Reluctantly she loosened her grip, and I crawled over to the objects and began to explore them with my hands. I felt a gourd, then a wooden bowl, then some kind of mallet, and—oh, Lord—bones!
“Maggie, I know where we are. We’re in one of those burial caves on the cliff face of the Haleakala Crater, and these are the artifacts from the exhibit.”
I remembered something I had seen in the exhibit at the gallery.
“Stay right there. I’ve got to find something.”
I crawled around the floor of the cave, my hands sweeping wide circles, and at last my fingers touched what I was looking for—the feathered cape.
I gathered it in my arms and whispered, “Maggie, where are you? Say something so I can find you.”
“I’m over here.”
I crawled to the sound of her voice, held her close, and wrapped our quivering bodies in the flowing feathered cape.
In time the feathers that had once protected their avian hosts provided the insulation we needed, and we huddled together against the biting cold.
In the relative comfort of our feathered tent, we began to take stock of our situation.
“Maggie, what happened after I passed out?”
“As soon as you were out, he made me drink that awful stuff too. The next thing I was aware of was you shaking me here in this cave.”
“They must have transported us, along with the artifacts, back to the original burial site. They have said all along that the old bones should not have been disturbed, and now, according to them, they’re back where they belong.”
“I thought they were going to kill us.”
“They probably thought they did. In the old days, when the volcano was active, human sacrifices were hurled into the bubbling caldron. Remember Joe Versus the Volcano? Anyway, now that the mountain is dormant, they probably figured that Haleakala would kill us by exposure to the elements. Either way, Pele would be appeased by the death of royalty.”
“I understand that part, but why kill you?”
“Do you remember when Uncle Ray called me Kamamalu, the protector? I read somewhere that in the old days, when someone of royal blood died, those who served him in life were killed and buried with him to serve him in death. So I guess that’s me.”
“I’m so sorry I got you involved in this.”
“Yeah, well, the least you could have done was warn me before we were married.”
Just then, a bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the entrance to the cave, and a clap of thunder seemed to shake the rock around us.
The whistling wind intensified, and in the distance we could hear rain pelting the floor of the cave.
“Since their goal was to kill us, I’m willing to bet that our hosts failed to stock this cave with Arbor Mist. If we’re going to get out of this, we’re going to need to drink. I found an old wooden bowl among the artifacts. I’m going to place it in the mouth of the cave to collect rainwater.”
I left the warmth of the cape, found the wooden bowl, and scurried to the opening.
Cold and wet, I retreated to the comfort of my feathered princess, and we huddled together waiting for the cold, gray dawn.
The rain stopped as abruptly as it had come, and at last the opening became clearer as the first rays of light penetrated the cave.
“Shall we venture a look?” I suggested.
We moved to the mouth of the cave and cautiously peered over the edge.
The scene below took our breath away.
We were indeed in a cave on the sheer cliff face of
Haleakala Crater. Hundreds of feet below, the massive cinder cones dotted the crater floor.
“How in the world did they get us in here?” Maggie asked.
I craned my neck upward. “We must have been lowered from the top. It looks like we’re maybe thirty feet below the rim.”
“I’m sure glad I wasn’t awake for that.”
Just then, the rocks around us changed color as they reflected varying shades of crimson and gold.
We looked to our left just in time to see the morning sun burn through the clouds that hung low beneath the summit of the great mountain—sunrise on Haleakala.
As the sun rose in the s
ky, its rays fell upon the craggy peaks and cinder cones in the caldera, which in turn cast their eerie shadows on the crater floor.
It seemed that we were in another world as the ethereal shadow ballet unfolded before us.
“Oh, Walt, it’s so beautiful.”
We sat mesmerized, watching the shifting shadows as the sun continued its ascent into the heavens.
“The only thing that could make this more perfect is breakfast,” I said. “Are you hungry?”
“Famished. Any ideas?”
“I thought the wife was supposed to fix breakfast.
Isn’t that in the wedding manual somewhere?”
“That’s nothing but sexist propaganda. Anyway, I always thought guys were supposed to get the food when you’re roughing it.”
Then it occurred to me. I felt in my pocket, and sure enough, it was still there—a roll of Lifesavers that I had bought the day before at our junk food stop at the Pukalani Superette.
“Well, isn’t this appropriate?” I said. “Lifesavers!
And look, they’re tropical fruit flavor.” I peeled the wrapper away. “Would m’lady care for banana or papaya for breakfast?”
“Banana will do just fine.”
So we sucked our Lifesavers and sipped our rainwater.
Like the old saying goes, “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.”
While our meager breakfast did little to nourish our bodies, it certainly lifted our spirits.
“Okay, Big Guy, how do we get out of here?”
“Well, we can’t go up. It’s a sheer climb of at least thirty feet to the top, so that only leaves down.”
We peered over the lip of the cave, and twenty feet below, a rock ledge about eighteen inches wide jutted out from the cliff face. The ledge angled down to rocky outcroppings that could possibly provide hand and footholds to the valley below.
A plan began to form in my mind. “If we could only make it to that ledge, we might have a chance.”
“That’s a pretty big if.”
“Where’s Spiderman when you need him?”
“And what if we get to the crater floor? What then?”
“Do you remember the map in the visitor’s center?”
“Yes.”
I pointed to the crater wall across the valley. “See that V in the valley wall? That’s Kaupo Gap, and there’s a trail that leads through the gap to the other side of the island. If I remember correctly, there are even some primitive cabins somewhere along the trail.”
“So your great plan is to jump down to that ledge, climb hundreds of feet down the cliff face, and hike across the crater floor through the gap to the other side of the island?”
“In a nutshell.”
“Are you crazy? We’re sixty-seven years old. The most strenuous thing we have done recently is the dance contest at the Class Reunion Lounge.”
“Well, we can’t stay here. Those guys could come back at any time to make sure their sacrifice worked.
Do you have any better ideas?”
She thought for a minute. “No.”
“I didn’t think so.”
I looked over the lip to the rock ledge twenty feet below. It might as well have been a hundred feet. We just couldn’t reach it.
I leaned back against the rock wall of the cave and was pondering our impossible situation, when a tiny gecko popped up over the edge to bask in the morning sunlight.
He stared at me, and I stared at him. Then I remembered Uncle Ray’s words as he handed me the little obsidian lizard: “Take mo’o’ala. He is your aumakua. He will guide you.”
“Well,” I said, “if you have any suggestions, this would be a good time.”
To my surprise, he scurried across the floor of the cave into the dark recesses where the artifacts rested.
On an impulse, I hopped to my feet and followed him.
I noticed for the first time that the artifacts were in a kind of lean-to fashioned of bamboo poles. The roof was composed of the broad leaves of some tropical plant. The little lizard had climbed the lean-to and was sitting on a heavy cord that bound the bamboo poles together.
Our eyes met again, and he scurried off into the darkness.
Maggie had witnessed this improbable scenario and followed me into the cave. We stood side-by-side staring at the lashings that could be our ticket out of the cave.
“This is just too weird,” she whispered.
“Yeah, but it just might work.”
We began removing the leafy fronds from the framework and untying the lashings that held the poles together. When everything was disassembled, we tied the lashings together to form a long rope.
“Do you think this will hold us?” she asked.
“Only one way to find out.”
I draped the rope over a rock that protruded from the wall and hung suspended off the floor. It was amazingly strong.
We carried the rope to the lip of the cave and dropped one end over the edge. To our dismay, it was about four feet too short.
“So near and yet so far,” she muttered.
I made a closer examination of the rope. It had been woven from the fibers of some kind of plant.
Then an idea struck me.
I hurried back into the cave and brought back some of the large fronds that had covered the roof of the structure. They looked a lot like the material of which the rope was made. Maggie looked on as I began to tear the huge leaves into strips.
“Do you know how to braid?” I asked.
“Does a bear crap in the woods?”
You’ve gotta love her spunk.
I tore strips, and Maggie braided. Before long we had another six feet of rope to attach to our escape ladder.
“Now all we need is a sky hook,” I quipped. “Any ideas what we’re going to tie this thing to?”
She thought for a minute and hurried back into the cave. She returned with one of the long bamboo poles from the lean-to.
It was just long enough to wedge between the sides of the cave opening.
We tied one end to the pole and threw the other over the side. The end dangled just a few inches from the floor of the ledge.
“Okay, now comes the fun part,” I said. “I’m going to go first. If the rope will hold my weight, it will certainly hold yours. Then I’ll hopefully be on the ledge to help you down.”
This was the moment of truth. If this didn’t work, I would be lying in a bloody heap hundreds of feet below, and Maggie would be left to die a long and painful death from exposure.
We held each other close, knowing that this could be our last embrace.
Finally I broke away and said with a bravado that
I didn’t actually feel, “We’re going to be okay. I’m not nearly through being your husband.”
She smiled a weak smile. “Be careful. I love you.”
I gripped the bamboo pole and slid my belly over the edge until I bent at the waist and my feet dangled in midair.
I made the mistake of looking down. The ledge wasn’t actually that far below, but the distance to the crater floor made my head swim. I wrapped the vine rope around my leg, said a silent prayer, and slid off the ledge.
The rope held, and slowly I inched my way down to the ledge. I cannot describe the relief I felt when my feet finally touched the rock outcropping.
I looked up and gave Maggie a big thumbs-up. “Your turn. It’s not too bad. Just don’t look down.”
Maggie slid over the edge as she had seen me do and wrapped her leg around the rope. I steadied the rope on my end, and she began her descent. It took just a few moments for her to reach me, but it seemed like an eternity. When at last she was by my side, I held her close until we both stopped shaking.
“It’ll be a walk in the park from here,” I said.
Then I looked at what lay ahead.
The rock ledge angled down and to our left and, to my dismay, narrowed to about six inches, where it ended in another outcropping.
I inched my way along the
ledge and saw that on the other side of the rock, indentions in the cliff face would suffice as hand and footholds. I motioned for Maggie to follow me. Gingerly, I hugged the rock and slid around to the first foothold.
“Watch where I step, and if I don’t go crashing down the mountain, follow me.”
“You inspire such confidence,” she replied.
Each step was a crap-shoot. I held on for dear life as I placed my weight on each rocky outcrop. Some held, and some gave way under my weight, sending an avalanche of debris cascading to the crater floor.
The weather was an uncomfortable paradox. The temperature couldn’t have been more than the high fifties, but in the thin atmosphere I could feel the sun’s rays penetrating my exposed flesh.
Luckily, every fifty feet or so, there would be a ledge wide enough to hold us both and provide a brief respite from our arduous descent.
The sun was high in the sky when we finally reached the crater floor. We looked back and up, and the opening into the cave appeared no bigger than a pinhead. It felt so good to be standing on level, solid ground.
“Well, so far, so good,” Maggie said. “At least we’re still in one piece.”
“Not too bad for a couple of old farts,” I replied. “The rest should be a piece of cake.”
I had to quit saying that.
While the trek across the crater floor was certainly not as dangerous as the first leg of our journey, it was no less taxing.
Instead of dirt, the floor was composed of tiny grains of volcanic debris that shifted and gave way under our weight—literally, the old two steps forward and one step back.
We soon discovered why it was called “Sliding Sands.”
Doggedly, we trudged in the direction of the V and passed through the gap just as the sun was slipping below the western rim of the crater.
“It can’t be too much farther to the first cabin,” I said. “We really need to get there before dark.”
Maggie was totally exhausted, but the idea of spending another night exposed to the elements created a sense of urgency, and we pressed on. Night was about to overtake us when we saw the small wood cabin in the clearing ahead.
The door was unlocked, and we stepped into one large room with two beds consisting of a frame and metal springs and a small cabinet.
[Lady Justice 03] - Lady Justice Gets Lei'd Page 17