When I closed the door of unit B406 for the last time, I told Aidan I needed to return the keys to the manager. As we walked down the stairs, he said he would check to make sure everything was tied down on the truck. I approached Pearl Wong’s door with mixed emotions. I had thought of asking the Wong sisters to Ariel’s memorial. But the uncertainty of sand, wind, and surf—let alone explaining their presence to people who did not know the full story―seemed too much for any of us to face.
In my last conversation with John Dias, I learned that the police had found evidence that Richard had been digging holes on the property for years. He had even torn some walls apart, evidently searching for the sisters’ alleged “treasure” and periodically shifting his stash of drugs. I guess that solved the mystery of the patches in the walls of some closets.
As soon as I struck the lion knocker, Pearl opened the door and beckoned me in with expressions of deep sorrow. Understandably, she and her sister were mortified by what had occurred on their property. Although Richard was Jade’s stepson and therefore no biological relation of Pearl’s, his crime had affected her deeply. She seemed to have aged considerably within the short time I had known her. Still precise in her dress and speech, the younger Wong sister now stood with stooped shoulders and had a walk that spoke volumes about her fear of miss-stepping. I sought words to bring her some release from the guilt she clearly felt.
After handing her the keys to the apartment, I offered to hire a cleaning service. She immediately refused my suggestion. “You have barely been here two weeks. And with everything you have had to endure, I would not hear of such a thing. Jade had another therapy appointment this morning. She wished me to express the shame she feels for what happened to your grandniece, and insists you accept this refund of your payment.”
Knowing Asian culture, I could not refuse this sincere expression of remorse. As I accepted the envelope she extended, I felt a shaking chill in her hand. “This must be hard on you as well—for a family member to be found a criminal,” I replied. “You couldn’t have done anything about Richard. He was too far into his drug abuse and his dreams of finding hidden treasure.”
Pearl nodded, gesturing for me to follow her into the living room. As we sat down, she explained how she believed Richard had come to his unbelievable conclusions.
“Unfortunately, the stories on which he based his illusions were founded on some truth. It began when the boy was fifteen. At that impressionable age, Jade married his father and Richard frequently heard tales of the magical Central Kingdom of China. It is also true that we came to Hawai`i with some of our father’s antiquities. As adults, we learned that Chú Huā was the purveyor of the Pearl of the Orient’s final shipment of goods out of China. That nest egg financed the purchase of our first home, paid for our schooling, and provided the means for our eventual investments in real estate—like these apartments.”
Pearl paused to think for a moment. “To be honest, the passionate love that existed between our parents was not the foundation of Jade’s marriage. Immediately upon her graduation from college, she obtained her goal—a teaching position at our alma mater, St. Andrew’s Priory School for Girls. Elated from her first day on the job, she returned home to find the house silent and without the ever-present aroma of Chú Huā’s cooking.”
As she again seemed lost in the past, I observed, “It’s amazing how the scent of a favorite recipe can evoke a sense of our childhood home.”
“Yes, it does. On the same day, I had completed my first day as a freshman at the University. I was surprised to arrive home and find that Jade had prepared dinner, which she served on our best dishes by candlelight in the dining room. She barely spoke until we were seated. Then she fanned her hand across the center of the table which held a house key, bank book and a letter written in Chinese. Jade’s words were simple and to the point: Our beloved amah had completed her task of caring for us until we were grown and she was now returning to her homeland.
“I found the lack of details interesting, since the night before I had heard Jade and Chú Huā speaking in Chinese for a long time. Jade never revealed what they discussed and I knew I dared not ask. During our dinner, I did learn we had free title to the little bungalow and a substantial sum of money in the bank. Sadly, we never saw or heard from Chú Huā or our father after that, and we never again had an envelope arrive from Shànghăi, or anywhere else in China.”
“That must have been quite a shock, after all your years with Chú Huā,” I observed.
“Indeed. Jade and I had each other, but our lives suddenly felt empty. But I should not infer we were left wholly alone. Sometimes our relatives from Maui visited. And the “uncles” from our grandfather’s hui frequently checked on our well-being. Time passed easily in this phase of life. Jade was immersed in her teaching career and I was busy with school and caring for our home.
“It was many years later that Jade married Richard’s father. He was a widower and both Jade and I were comfortable with him, since he had been our trusted family lawyer. Today we would be considered a blended family. Even without great love between them, life seemed full, continuing largely as before. Jade and Richard the elder worked and I continued to care for our home. Richard the younger, like all boys, sought his role in life.
“Jade and I enjoyed retelling the happier moments from our childhood in China, as well as the stories woven by our amah. It was those tales that fed Richard’s fantasies that one day he would inherit great wealth. But, like Richard the elder, Jade wanted to see him mature into a responsible adult before entrusting him with any capital. Sadly, that time never came.
“When his father died, there was little of the Bishop family wealth intact. The law practice had been taken over by partners and the family’s liquid assets had been drained by the illnesses of both Richard Senior and his wife. Initially we sympathized with the young man’s angst regarding his father’ death. But after a while, we expected him to return to school or enter a career.”
I nodded my head in acknowledgment. “Too many young people refuse to take charge of their lives.”
“Jade and I were rather naïve, Natalie. Neither of us realized he had fallen into the abyss of drug abuse. It was not like an alcoholic who reeks of his addiction. He had always been quiet around us and being a young man of the Islands, showed his respect by seldom making eye contact.
“When we had the opportunity to buy these apartments, we thought Richard would find focus by helping with their maintenance…that it would give him direction and lead to a fulfilling life for him. But some time ago, we recognized that would not happen and there would be no continuation of our family. Therefore, while we would never have left Richard destitute or without a home, we decided that our estates should fund an educational trust. It will provide scholarships for worthy students at the Priory and endow a chair in International Cultural Studies at the University of Hawai`i in our parents’ names.”
“That’s an excellent way to honor your family and to help the young people of Hawai`i. You remind me of some of the end-of-life choices I need to make,” I said.
She nodded with obvious pleasure. “Well, Natalie, let me again express the sorrow that Jade and I feel about what happened to your grandniece. When you told me you were planning a memorial at Kailua Beach, we wanted to contribute something to your celebration of Ariel’s life. If you will give me a moment, I picked up something for you earlier this morning.”
She turned and left the room and I took a final look at my gracious surroundings. I knew that one day, the items that had been precious to Jade and Pearl would find their way to the homes of many people, who, even without the exotic stories of their origins, would treasure them for many years.
Pearl soon returned with two, large, bright pink gift bags. She set them on the dining table. Reaching within one, she brought out a cellophane-wrapped flat package.
With a small bow she offered it to m
e. “I hope you will not find it forward of us to offer these small tokens of our respect for your family. In China we would set lantern boats upon the waters to honor the passing of our beloved. These are something new…advertised to be ‘environmentally friendly.’ They are Chinese wish lanterns. They will behave like normal balloons when released into the air, but they are biodegradable. I have called to verify that these lanterns are acceptable to the park authorities. If you choose, your guests on the water, as well as those on the shore, can use them to send their blessings into the sky for Ariel.”
Spontaneously, I touched her tiny hand before accepting the gift. Looking at this woman who seemed diminished in body and spirit, my eyes filled with moisture. “This is most thoughtful of you and Jade. We’ll gladly add this feature to our gathering.”
“We are pleased if you find this small token appropriate.”
“It’s more than appropriate. My brother Nathan has been concerned about the people remaining on shore when the outrigger canoes put to sea. This will allow everyone to feel they are participating fully in the ceremony. Thank you so much.”
Pearl and I had become close in spirit in the last couple of weeks and we hugged gently before I walked out the door.
* * * * *
It is difficult to be positive about the death of anyone—especially a young person with the promise of a full life before her. I was glad that the next day and a half passed quickly. After dropping my furnishings off at the condo, I was eager to help Brianna and Nathan finish the arrangements for Wednesday. It was a good thing other people were coordinating food, beverages and music, because there were many phone calls to place, emails to send, and visitors to accommodate.
We were fortunate that there was little red-tape to burden us. The State of Hawai`i does not consider ashes scattered at sea to be hazardous to the life forms that abound in her waters. And since our beachside event was small, we were not required to get a use permit.
The beach has always been important to our family and I knew it would continue to be our gathering place in times of joy, as well as sorrow. Nathan and I had not had an opportunity to do our private grieving, but that time will come. Sooner than later, Brianna will return to the mainland to close up her apartment for the rest of summer. Then, I expect Nathan and I will walk the beaches of Hawai`i, as we did as children. I hope it will help us realign our lives before we have to face the impending death of our Auntie Carrie.
The other man with whom I have shared this recent crisis is Keoni. Although we had spoken each evening, I had not seen him since leaving him alone in the hospital. With his leg requiring room to stretch, I took the old Malibu coupe to pick him up on Wednesday. When I pulled into his driveway, I found my heart racing. He must have been watching for me, because the door to his bungalow flew open before my feet hit the first step to the porch.
Keoni’s wardrobe for the day included a vintage Hana Company aloha shirt in faux kapa cloth over khaki walking shorts, a straw Panama hat, and one brown leather flip flop—since his left leg was in a walking cast. He said nothing for a moment, taking in my short white sundress and an original Beth Surdut silk haori coat with frolicking gold fish on a red background.
He came forward and held my hands. Looking down, he pressed his thumb against the intricate carving of Ariel’s silver bracelet. Raising his eyes to mine, he said, “You look, uh, I don’t know if ‘festive’ is the right word, but I know Ariel is pleased you’ve dressed especially for her today!”
I tried not to cry. “She always loved this jacket. It matches the red Chinese wish lanterns we’re going to release.”
We walked out to the car and I opened the passenger’s door so Keoni could back into the old style bench seat. He carefully straightened his left leg, pulled in his cane, and, since there was not much head room, set his hat in his lap. When we arrived forty minutes later, parking was limited and it seemed like we might end up parking outside the park. We finally found a space, but it took a while for Keoni to maneuver across the grass and sand to the boat landing. Thank goodness we had set a time of three p.m., since outrigger canoes try not to put to sea in the dark.
For a few years, Ariel and Brianna had paddled Hawaiian outrigger canoes competitively. Their former teammates were honored to participate in the memorial and had brought a pair of prized koa wood canoes. An additional outrigger, constructed of fiberglass, waited to carry mourners out for the seafaring part of the service. As I am uncomfortable with boats of any kind, I was not going to accompany Ariel’s ashes to sea. But since Keoni had an injured leg, I would not stand alone on the shore.
At the sound of a conch shell, members of the outrigger canoe team came forward carrying upright paddles in front of them. In a dignified manner, each wahine placed her paddle at her designated position in one of the canoes that swayed gently awaiting its role in the ceremony. Closing in behind them, the people who had gathered to honor Ariel formed a semi-circle. With Keoni firmly holding my waist from behind, I stood bathed in love, with Nathan and Brianna on one side and Margie and Dan O`Hara on the other.
Accompanied by a single Hawaiian gourd drum, Lani King, a non-denominational minister dressed in a robe patterned in a classic kapa design, chanted an opening prayer in Hawaiian as we lifted our eyes skyward. Then, several of us shared our fondest memories of Ariel.
When it was my turn, I had to breathe deeply several times before beginning. “There’s so much I wish I had said to Ariel—like how much I loved her, even when I couldn’t be with her as much as I would have liked. Beyond that, there is little that has relevance in a moment like this, so I’d simply like to share the words of Patricia Noble, a modern philosopher I had the pleasure of meeting a few years ago:
Like a shooting star that catches the eye so briefly as it trails the flaming brilliance of its death across the infinite vastness of the midnight sky, your love has touched my life and gone. What meaning this meeting of two souls has for me, I do not know. I only know that I am better for your heart and mine touching in the night.
We came to the end of our attempt to honor Ariel’s brief life quietly. With tears in the eyes of most of us, we held hands and sang Aloha `Oe. Composed by Queen Lydia Lili`u`okalani, it is an Island favorite for glad times and sad. I felt sure that Ariel could feel the love of all of us even as we moved apart slowly. While some people would take a final seaward journey with Ariel, others would go to Nathan’s home to prepare for our sunset gathering, or like Keoni and me, remain beachside.
At another signal from the conch shell, the canoes put to sea to cast Ariel’s ashes upon the waters she had loved so much. Keoni took my hand and we moved to a log near the shoreline. While the canoes became specks on the water, we watched the panorama of the busy beach park surrounding us. Parasails, surfboards and kayaks bounced in the ocean’s foreground, while walkers and sunbathers passed by or frolicked in the shallow waters. No wonder this was one of Ariel’s favorite places for reflection.
After a while, Keoni calmly said, “You know I’m not an invalid, Natalie. You could have gone out with the boats.”
“I’ve told you how I feel about getting into little objects that put to sea. And besides, every seat was assigned and I know how important it is for the people going out today. They need closure—in a tangible way that they can share with one another. It’s not the same for them as it is for Nathan and me, or for Brianna. She and Ariel have had a unique bond like Nathan and I do, and I don’t think it will be broken merely because Ariel has crossed to the next plane of existence.”
When the canoes and other unexpected boats had reached their destination and formed a circle, we heard the distant sound of the conch signaling everyone to release their wish lanterns. I brought out one from my straw bag, with a message already folded within. Silently, Keoni helped me cast it upward into the wind. As it drifted heavenward, he put his right arm around me tightly and placed his left palm tenderly over my hand
s. This was a special moment between us. I had no idea where our relationship was going, but his concern and support had certainly helped me through this tragic experience.
Looking down at Ariel’s bracelet, I thought about the many ways women express themselves and share their lives through jewelry. I knew that Brianna and I would always feel close to Ariel whenever we wear our silver bracelets, just as the Wong sisters remember their beloved mother when they touch the yin and yang necklaces they wear.
EPILOGUE
In the end, it’s not the years in your life that count.
It’s the life in your years.
Abraham Lincoln [1809-1865]
After the sunset toasting of Ariel’s abbreviated life, I sat staring at the waters flowing past Nathan’s home. The hypnotic rhythm of the waves at high tide lulled me to near slumber. Then for a brief moment, I glimpse a different but not too distant ocean view…
In lavender shades of twilight, the city of Honolulu edges toward nighttime. Gazing down from their watchtower view, two women in traditional long Chinese cheongsams of silk brocade watch the lengthening shadows of the Old Makiki Cemetery spread out below them.
The short woman in the ivory colored dress turns to lift a bottle of champagne from a crystal bucket filled with ice. She pours careful measures into two silver flute goblets and hands one to the woman dressed in plum who is seated in a wheel chair.
“For you, Jade.”
“Thank you, Pearl,” replies the woman reaching up to grasp the stemware securely in her hand.
Prospect for Murder (Natalie Seachrist Hawaiian Cozy Mystery 1) Page 27