✽✽✽
The full moon rose behind Diamond Head illuminating Ruth’s hotel suite which had tropical flowers strategically placed throughout. A basket of fresh Hawaiian fruits adorned the coffee table. On one wall was a fully stocked bar with assorted glasses. A slight breeze blew the white lace curtains. Ruth looked in her purse, pulled out a piece of paper, and headed for the phone. She dialed the number and waited; there was no answer and she hung up.
✽✽✽
Kalakaua Boulevard, Waikiki’s main ocean front street, was crowded with locals and tourists alike, men in shorts and Aloha or T-shirts, while women wore muumuu’s or missionary dresses. All are wearing zoris (Hawaiian for flip-flops) for sandals. However, if one individual stood out from the sea of other people, it was Ruth. Ruth walked confidently, wearing a designer dress along with her high heel shoes. Formal or designer dresses and high heels were rarely worn in the tropics; it just wasn’t done, except for a special occasion such as a wedding. Even when attending church, missionary dresses or muumuu’s are called for, not formal dresses; formal dresses were not the Hawaiian way. No one ever wears high heel shoes in Hawaii except for formal occasions. Most women don’t like getting their heels caught in the uneven surfaces or sinking down to their heels in the sand.
Ruth had no real destination in mind, she wanted to see what Hawaii and Waikiki was all about. She was happy people did not stop and ask her for her autograph. They looked, but did not disturb her; Ruth was quite pleased with the freedom Hawaii brought her.
✽✽✽
It was the evening before she could pick up Mrs. Wiggins and fly to the Big Island. She had been unsuccessful in reaching Ben to inform him of her arrival. She tried again waiting for Ben to pick up the phone impatiently waiting. Finally, the phone was picked up.
“Thank God, it’s about time.” She thought.
“Hello, are you Ben?” Ruth asked, continuing, “Darling, I’m Ruth Newcomb ... the new owner.
“Yes, that’s right, I’m in Waikiki. I’ll be arriving tomorrow on the noon flight.
“Yes, it arrives in Kona at noon. You’ll be there, right?
“Good! I’d like a limo with a full bar and sushi.
“I understand. Darling, do what you can do.
“I’m looking forward to meeting you. You’ll have a sign so I know who you are, won’t you?
“Good! See you then.”
Ruth hung up. Hearing the Hawaiian music filtering up from The House Without a Key bar, she walked to the lanai. When she reached the railing, Ruth smiled at the scene around her; the shimmering lights emanating from the city, the full moon rising over Diamond Head with its light shimmering on the ocean surface below. Ruth nodded proclaiming, “No wonder they call this paradise.”
The Big Island
Ruth wore a fashionable designer dress and her high heel designer shoes, carrying her purse and the pet carrier with Mrs. Wiggins’ yellow eyes peering out, making her way past security to the Kona Airport baggage claim area. Many people were being met by lei greeters, a plethora of limo drivers held up signs. Ruth examined each one, and failed to see her name. She continued to look for Ben, and did not see anyone holding a sign resembling anything close to her name. Ruth watched her Louis Vuitton bags pass by as passengers or limo drivers picked up their bags. Being the lone passenger in the baggage claim area, she took each one of her bags to a bench near the exit. Ruth sat looking at her gold Rolex, which read half past noon. Nearby, a tourist magazine rack caught her attention. Getting up, she chose a few including 101 Things to Do on the Big Island and The Big Island. She returned to the bench and started to read The Big Island. A little later, she examined her watch which read one o’clock. Looking around, she spotted a pay phone. She left her luggage and headed for the pay phone, reaching into her purse and pulled out a paper and a quarter putting it into the pay phone and dialed the number. After numerous rings, she shook her head and hung up returning to the bench.
A middle aged Hawaiian man, wearing Ray Ban sunglasses, an Aloha shirt, and blue jeans, walked in from the street holding a sheet of lined notebook paper with Luka Newcomb crudely written with a marker.
Ruth could not help but notice her last name and went over to the man who was first to speak. “Aaa-loooo-haa! I am Ben Kokua, are you Mrs. Newcomb?”
“Darling, it’s about time! I’ve been waiting for over an hour. I did say noon, didn’t I?” Ruth asked, then pointed to the sign Ben was holding. “Darling, by the way, I’m Ruth Newcomb, not Luka Newcomb.”
“Dat okay. You go shi shi, we have long drive.”
“Shi shi, what’s shi shi?”
“You go baf-room. I wait, watch bags. You go! Baf-room over der.”
Ruth left her luggage and cat carrier with Ben and took her purse.
Later, in the Kona Airport parking lot, Ruth followed Ben to the passenger side of a stretch limo as Ben heaved her bags into the back of a rusty mud incrusted blue pickup truck. Ruth looked at the truck dumbfounded. “Darling, we’re not getting in that, are we?”
✽✽✽
The truck with both windows rolled down, made its way along a long stretch of road high up on the cloudless mountainside, the savannah scattered with parched dried trees in desperate need of water, along with cactus, dried tan grass, lava rocks and flows could be seen for miles in any direction. Every now and then, a goat or two grazed along the roadside. In the distance below, the landscape changed from black of the lava flows and the tan of the parched grass to lush green vegetation nestled along the brilliant deep blue waters of the Pacific.
“Darling, where are the beaches?”
“Da beaches are way down there.” Ben replied as he pointed down the hill towards the ocean.
Later, the savannah gave way to plushness; trees and bushes sporadically lined the road. The clear blue sky had given way to menacing rain clouds, as more cars traveled in both directions. On the right side of the truck were cowboys riding horses.
“Darling, look, cowboys!” Ruth exclaimed.
“Paniolo.”
“What?”
“Paniolo, dat Hawaiian for cowboy. Dis da Parker Ranch; the largest ranch in the United States.”
A light rain started to fall as the truck made its way into a more populated area of one story houses and tropical vegetation. They drove past a rustic wooden sign that announced Waimea, a small town nestled on a plush plateau between two volcanos. They reached a traffic light. While waiting for the light to change, Ruth noticed a strip mall with a large modern supermarket. The light changed, but Ben could only go a few miles an hour due to traffic.
“This traffic is like the states.” Ruth declared.
“Dis is Hawaii. We are a state.”
“Darling, I mean, the traffic shouldn’t be like this in paradise. What is going on?”
“Rush hour.”
“You have rush hour, here, in Hawaii?”
“Uh, hu! Every day.”
“Darling, why, where is everyone going?”
“Shift change.”
“Shift change, darling?”
“Dey go to and from da resorts on the sunny side of da island.”
The gentle rain gave way to a heavy downpour. Fearing on getting wet, Ruth rolled up her window, while Ben left his down. The truck made its way down a long stretch of road, both sides lined with large trees and lush vegetation. Ben noticed Ruth repeatedly looking out the window visibly bored, looking at her watch, at him, and the cat carrier. Ben attempted to comfort Ruth, “We almost der ... fifteen minute.”
The truck slowed down, making an abrupt right onto a smaller one lane road that had seen better days, as it headed up Mauna Kea through sugar cane fields, fertile vegetation, and trees lining the side of the road. The rain had all but abated, giving way to fog which engulfed the freshly rinsed truck. Ruth rolled her window down and was greeted with a very sweet sugary aroma.
“Darling, what is that smell, it is so sweet, smelling almost like sugar or candy.”
“It cane. Dat where sugar, molasses, and rum come from.”
“You mean that funny stuff that looks like bamboo?” Ruth pointed towards a rogue clump of sugar cane off to the side of the road.
“Uh-huh.”
Ruth studied the sugar cane taking in deep sniffs and smiled at the entire scene. The old road by this time had become extremely bumpy, knocking Ruth and Mrs. Wiggins about. To stabilize herself, she grabbed the strap hanging from the roof of the cab above her door; it came off in her hand. She looked at it, then at Ben. With her left hand, she held down the pet carrier as Mrs. Wiggins loudly protested.
The truck slowed down as a car approached them. Ben pulled the truck off to the right to allow the car to pass. As it did so, Ben raised his left hand and waved at the oncoming car, the driver waved back.
Every few hundred yards of the bumpy tree lined road were well paved driveways leading to houses hidden behind the lush tropical rainforest vegetation. Ben made abrupt jerks of the truck to avoid hitting fallen branches, turkeys, or chickens. This combined with the bumpiness made for an extremely uncomfortable ride for Ruth and Mrs. Wiggins.
“Darling, I’m not feeling well.” Ben looked at Ruth, whose skin color was slowly turning gray. “I can’t take it anymore. All this bouncing around is making me unwell.” The truck continued to bounce.
“Darling, stop the truck now! I’m going to be sick!”
The truck turned into a ginger and tree lined impeccably maintained driveway and stopped. Ruth opened the door and stuck her head out about ready to throw up, but quickly regained her composure. She looked down the driveway where she saw an inviting beautiful blue and white trimmed three car garage. Behind it, was a larger modern blue and white trimmed house with a matching blue metal roof.
“What a beautiful house!” Ruth exclaimed.
“In Hawaii, we say hale for house.”
“I must start to learn new Hawaiian words. Darling, do you know who lives there?”
“Uh-huh. You do.”
Hale Newcomb
Ben pulled the truck closer to the garage and parked. He retrieved the luggage and walked towards the house. Ruth reached for the carrying case, looked inside to find a shivering and cowering Mrs. Wiggins in the back, tail twitching.
“It’s okay, Mrs. Wiggins.” Upon hearing the Ruth’s calming voice, Mrs. Wiggins moved forward. Ruth turned the carrier away from her, sharing the surrounding terrain with Mrs. Wiggins.
“Darling, we live here, isn’t this wondrous?”
Ruth followed Ben down the concrete and grass pathway leading from the garage to the house. She was more enthralled with the beauty of the scenery around her than walking when she accidently stepped into the grassy section which caused her heel to slightly sink into the grass. She momentarily lost her balance causing the cat carrier to violently swing. Mrs. Wiggins let out a curt sorrowful meow. Ruth quickly regained her balance. paying more attention to where she was walking as she continued to follow Ben towards the main house.
Beyond the house, a vast macadamia nut orchard came into view. A variety of citrus trees with large fruit line the boundary between the front yard and the orchard. Chickens, wild turkey, and néné (Hawaiian geese) pecked the ground. Upon hearing Ruth and Ben approaching, the birds scurried for protection in the orchard and adjacent vegetation.
The blue house was encircled by a large lanai which wrapped the uphill exterior. Without using a key, Ben opened the front door and held it open. Ruth walked in, the downhill view from the living room floor to ceiling windows caught her attention. She walked over to examine the view. Through the trees, in the distance, she saw the unmistakable dark blue waters of the Pacific and smiled. Ben walked up behind her.
“Nice view, isn’t it?” Ben inquired.
Ruth nodded, “Darling, this is truly paradise.”
Ben started towards Ruth’s bedroom, down a short hallway off the living room. “I put your stuff in da master suite. If you need me, I live in the other end of the house.” Ben pointed down a longer hallway.
Ruth placed the pet carrier on the wooden floor and opened its door to free Mrs. Wiggins who darted out heading down the shorter hallway where Ben had gone. Upon hearing the unfamiliar sounds Ben was making, she abruptly stopped and skidded as she made a U-turn and returned to the carrier.
A few moments later, Ben returned to the living room where Ruth had focused her attention to the lanai and uphill scenery of the fog making its way towards the house. Ruth was so enamored with the scenery outside she started for the front door.
“You need Cutter.” Ben told Ruth as she opened the door. She had not heard him and continued to go outside and took in the view of the orchard and the fauna; mango, orange, lime, lemon, and other fruit trees scattered around. Ginger, bird of paradise, and anthurium plants define the separation of house and orchard. She took a deep breath and smiled.
Through the living room window, Ben watched Ruth, who was experiencing great difficulty walking and maintaining her balance due to her high heel shoes sinking into the grass. Suddenly Ruth started swatting the air around her as though she was being attacked by something. She started to slap her exposed arms and legs. Ben headed to the kitchen as Ruth was trying to maintain her balance as she returned the house. When she entered the kitchen, Ben held out the can of Cutter’s bug spray.
“Darling, you didn’t tell me about the mosquitoes. What is the can for?”
“It rain a lot here. Spray Cutter on skin, den da bug no bite. Da haole need Cutter’s.”
Ruth cocked her head mouthing the word haole.
“Haole,” Ben explained, “dat mean white people or tourist.”
✽✽✽
Ruth was asleep wearing a silk eye night mask with Mrs. Wiggins curled against her. The tranquil sounds of Mrs. Wiggins snoring, the crickets chirping, and coqui frogs croaking had abruptly given way to muted sounds of popping, which remotely sounded like the backfire of a car, followed by loud grunting sounds had awakened Ruth. She removed her night mask and looked at the clock which revealed 4:31. She sat upright and listened to the popping and grunting sounds appearing to be coming from another room or outside. She grabbed Mrs. Wiggins and held her close, stroking her.
“Darling, at least they are not in our room. This is Hawaii not New York! I’m sure we’re going to be alright.”
Ruth continued her watch for about a quarter of an hour or so when the grunting sounds abated and gave way once again to the gentle sounds of the crickets and frogs. Ruth was still seated upright in bed holding and gently stroking a purring Mrs. Wiggins. She returned Mrs. Wiggins to her spot before replacing the silk night mask and lay down.
The peacefulness of night gave way to dawn which was announced by a lone rooster crowing, startling Ruth and Mrs. Wiggins. Ruth removed her mask, looked around, and realized it was her first morning in the country of the Big Island. The rooster continued crowing; others joining in, welcoming the rising sun and a new day.
✽✽✽
Ruth was seated at the kitchen table sipping a cup of coffee reading The Big Island, one of the throw-away magazines. On the cover was a photograph of a black sand beach, with palm trees, and waterfall cutting its way down a large cliff in the background. Ben entered and poured himself a cup of coffee.
“How did you sleep?” Ben inquired.
Ruth put the magazine down.
“Sleep? Darling, I was awakened by your grunting.”
“Grunt? I no grunt.”
“Then what was that sound if it wasn’t you.”
“It da pig!”
Ruth cocked her head and gave Ben an inquisitive look.
“Wild boar.” Ben continued, “Dey come for the mac nut and mango. Not every night, some night, when dey get hungry.”
“Darling, nothing can be that loud when eating.”
“Look under tree, you see big dirt area, that done by pig. De laikem mac nut.”
“Laikem what is laikem?”
“It Pidgin for
like them. You know, laik-em! Pidgin easy to speak.”
“Darling, you did a fantastic job of unpacking and arranging my belongings before my arrival. The house looks like I’ve lived here for some time. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I thought you would like it.”
Ruth nodded and returned her attention to the magazine, then back to Ben.
“Darling, I want to go shopping and see the island.”
“I drive you.”
“I want to do it myself. I want a car.”
“You take truck.”
Ruth shook her head. “I do not do trucks, I can barely drive cars.”
“You need four wheel drive. Truck mo betta.”
“Darling, I said I don’t do trucks. You have to find me a car.”
The Neighbors
Ruth was in the living room watering plants when the front door burst open without a knock as Auntie, a jubilant robust mid-sixty year old Hawaiian-Asian dressed in a muumuu and wearing zoris, entered. Ruth was so startled by Auntie’s abrupt entrance, she dropped the glass Tiffany pitcher which shattered across the living room tile floor.
“Oh! You clumsy lady,” Auntie exclaimed in singsong Hawaiian pidgin. “Where Ben? He kokua you, klinim mess, den he kam my place. Da keiki’s need him. Where he?”
“Darling, who are you?”
“Me? I Auntie.”
“Who ... what gives you the right to burst into my house without knocking?”
“Ben wok fo me.”
“Darling, he works for me!”
“Oh, dat oh-kay.”
“No, it’s not okay.”
“When you see Ben, tell him, come plenny wikiwiki.” Auntie commanded.
A moment later, Ben came running from the back of the house into the living room.
From da Big Island Page 4