From da Big Island

by Bill Hutchinson

  Auntie moved back from Ruth continuing in pidgin. “It da Hawaiian way!”

  Ruth spotted chicken feed and grabbed a twenty-five pound bag and added it to her cart.

  A New Life Begins

  After Ruth got home she took the flowers to Mrs. Wiggins’ grave site and carefully planted them in a colorful arrangement around the burial mound to ensure they marked the exact location where Mrs. Wiggins was enjoying eternity.

  Afterwards, she stood admiring her diligent work at making a beautiful tropical memorial for Mrs. Wiggins. She reminisced the first time she was introduced to Mrs. Wiggins when Carol Burnett and Tim Conway made an appearance on From the Big Apple. Carol presented the kitten to Ruth and named it after her Carol Burnett Show character Mrs. Wiggins, the secretary to Mr. Tudball, played by Tim Conway. Whenever Carol or Tim appeared on From the Big Apple, Ruth made sure Mrs. Wiggins made an appearance, she knew Carol, Tim, and her audience loved the Mrs. Wiggins updates on the cats growth and antics.

  When Ruth returned to the house, she saw a plethora of birds pecking the ground. She went up the stairs of the lanai into the kitchen to prepare the chicken feed. She filled Mrs. Wiggins bowl with the remaining cat food, then chicken feed, mixing them together before returning to the base of the lanai steps, placing the bowl on the first step. She decided the first step was best because the birds would not otherwise see the cat bowl due to the long thick grass that would obscure the bowl. Ruth turned to go back up the stairs into the house, when she reached the door, loud cackling was heard from the base of the lanai. She turned to see three chickens pecking the feed in the bowl. Nearby, a rooster started crowing which started to attract other chickens and birds. In the distance, she heard the gobbling of the wild turkeys as they too, heard the commotion and made their way to the foot of the lanai. Ruth proud of her accomplishment of taking the first small step of being one with nature and more Hawaiian like and smiled.

  ✽✽✽

  The following day, Ruth wearing jeans, T-shirt, and zoris was inside the shed which housed the lawn mowing tractor. She climbed onto the seat of the tractor and was able to locate the on/off switch, other switches, including the one that operated the mowing blades. She set the blades in the off position and started the tractor. The tractor sound was a little louder than she had expected, but felt she could quickly adjust to the sound. Ruth felt like she did when she was a child in a rumble seat; vibrating and shaking her even though she wasn’t moving. She looked down at the floorboard and saw pedals. With a little trepidation, she pressed the gas pedal. The tractor lurched forward so abruptly, she almost fell off and barely missed taking out part of the shed as she did. Realizing the pedal was overly sensitive Ruth gently pressed it and cautiously pulled out of the shed.

  Ruth felt it best to head directly to the orchard where she could learn how to use the lawn tractor before doing the areas nearer her house. On the way to the orchard, she felt she could also learn how to cut the grass before getting to the orchard and engaged the mower. At first, she wasn’t doing a good job, she could not drive straight nor control the mower. As she drove, the chickens, wild turkey, and néné scurried out of her way. Ruth knew she would master the mower with time and practiced making turns in the open grassy area before reaching the orchard. With each turn, she did better at mastering the nuances of mower. Before entering the orchard, she paused for a moment to look at her work to see the crooked lane of cut grass which lead from the shed. The smell of fresh cut grass permeated the air. The birds had returned to the freshly cut lane pecking and eating fresh grubs and bugs the mower had kicked up.

  Looking at the macadamia trees in the orchard, she realized she would have to be very careful as not to hit her head and navigate around the lower hanging branches. After a few hours, Ruth had finished cutting the grass in the orchard and around the house. The entire time, the birds followed behind the mower enjoying the fruits of her labor. Near the shed was a large mango tree with oversized hanging fruit too high to reach from the ground. There no was reason to mow around the tree, since grass wasn’t growing there. Ruth thought the ripe mangos would make a great meal. With the mower disengaged, she drove the tractor to the edge of the tree, reached up and picked two large ripe mangos before expertly navigating the tractor into the shed.

  New York Cannot be All That Bad

  On the lanai, Ruth typed on her laptop, as William approached.

  “Mrs. Newcomb, here’s Catcher in the Rye.”

  William handed her the book and started to leave. Ruth placed the book on the table.

  “William, please come back.”

  William returned, still standing.

  “William, I want to apologize for my rudeness the other day. It was wrong of me.”

  “Dat oh-kay, Mrs. Newcomb. Ben’s brother, Michael, lives in New York, he says New Yorker’s can be very rude.”

  “We New Yorkers really are not rude, William, but sometimes the customs and the way of life of other cultures, even our own here in the United States, are misunderstood and taken as being rude or unacceptable.”

  “I think I understand. Do you have another fun book?”

  Ruth thought for a moment, and then snapped her fingers. “Come with me, William.” William followed Ruth to the book shelf in the living room. She scanned the book shelf. “Ah, here it is.”

  Ruth reached for James Michener’s Hawaii and handed the book to William. William looked at the thick book; his eyes widened in amazement.

  “The book is soooo thick.”

  “William, it’s a good read. You will enjoy it.”

  William took the book, “Thank you, Mrs. Newcomb. I am sure I will like it as I did the other books.” William started to leave. “Auntie’s keiki’s need me.”

  “Mind if I tag along?”

  William looked at Ruth and shook his head no. Ruth closed the laptop and placed it on the table next to the chair. Leaving the laptop out in the open for all to see is something she would never do in New York. She slipped on her zoris and got up.

  Ruth and William walked together through the orchard headed for Auntie’s. William curiously asked, “I thought you didn’t like what we are doing and now you want to help?”

  “William, let’s say I need to adjust from my New York ways and customs to those here on the Big Island.”

  “That brings up a question. Is New York as wicked and phony as Holden Caulfield says it is?” William asked.

  “From Holden’s perspective it is. From mine, New York isn’t really that way.”

  “I didn’t think so, because you aren’t like the people in the book.”

  “I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment or not.”

  “Oh, a compliment, Mrs. Newcomb. I couldn’t put da book down. Reading is fun, just like you, Auntie, Mrs. Strong, and Dr. Tilton told me. I discovered so much about New York.”

  “Just think about it, William, you were able to accomplish it without leaving the island. And now you will discover Hawaii. It’s a fictional account of Hawaii, and it is fairly accurate to what happened and how the islands became the way they are.”

  They reached Auntie’s greenhouse. William entered followed by Ruth. Auntie and Ben, harvesting buds, looked up. Ruth looked apologetically at Ben whom she had not seen since she banished him.

  “Ben, I want to apologize about my behavior the da other day.”

  This was the first time Ruth had used the word da for the. Both Ben and Auntie noticed the change and reacted by smiling. Ruth continued to address Ben, “You can come back.”

  “Mahalo,” Ben pausing a moment before continuing, “I thought you didn’t like what we are doing here.”

  “I’ve been thinking, helping each other is da Hawaiian way, isn’t it? I’m here to help.” Ruth caught herself continuing, “Ah, I mean I am here to kokua.”

  “You go, sista!” Auntie proclaimed.

  Auntie saw William was carrying Hawaii. She looked at William, “Dat good book! It Hawaii to da max.”
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  “It is a big book.”

  “You read. You like. Yes?”

  William nodded. “Mrs. Newcomb said I would like it, too.”

  Ruth saw Auntie and Ben had buckets and shears.

  “Where do I get a bucket?”

  Ben leaned into Auntie, “She never done dis before.”

  “What can be so hard about trimming?” Ruth responded.

  “There’s a special way, I’ll show you.” Ben offered.

  “No,” Auntie exclaimed, “she learn from da masta. I show her! Come.”

  Ruth walked towards Auntie. William placed Hawaii on the counter, picked up a small bucket and shears, and started harvesting buds, while Auntie showed Ruth how to harvest and placed the fresh cuttings in the bucket.

  “See, it not hard. You try.”

  Ruth followed the same procedure shown to her by Auntie.

  “You do plenny good. You get bucket.”

  ✽✽✽

  Later that afternoon, Ruth was on her lanai typing on her laptop. Ben walked up the steps carrying a large UPS cardboard box. He had his tool belt on and asked, “Mrs. Newcomb, what do you want done first?”

  Ruth stopped typing, looking up, “What are you talking about, Ben?”

  “You asked for a security system, I got da system. It’s here in da box. Do you want da front door or your bedroom done first?”

  “Ben, I no longer need a security system.”

  “Since you got here, you wanted a security system, now you don’t?” Ben confirmed.

  “Dis is Hawaii. You said Hawaii is laid-back. No one has a security system. We don’t need it. Give it to me, I’ll return it.”

  Oh, dem Pigs!

  For almost a week, the sounds of the rain hitting the metal roof followed by the sounds of the insects chirping and frogs croaking lulled Ruth to sleep; she no longer needed her silk night mask. However, one particular evening the enjoyable sounds of the rain forest were abruptly broken by the nearby grunting and popping sounds of a pig. Ruth reached into her nightstand and grabbed the flashlight and headed out into the darkness to locate the pig. The sounds were coming from Mrs. Wiggins’ gravesite and nearby mango tree. Ruth pointed the flashlight towards the gravesite and saw the flowers were gone, apparently eaten by the pig. Hearing a loud thud followed by a grunt, she pointed the flashlight towards the mango tree and saw the pig ramming the trunk with its body as a ripe mango fell to the ground. The light attracted the attention of the pig who looked at her as it ate the mango and trotted away into the darkness.

  The following morning, Ruth and Auntie were on Auntie’s lanai having coffee. It was just the two of them, so Auntie was speaking in perfect English.

  “The pigs are a major issue on the island and need to be kept in check. It’s especially hard to do where we live because our properties are near a state park where the pigs are protected. I believe the pigs figured out that they are safe and cavort there.

  “Usually fences do a great job of keeping the pigs out, I’ve been thinking that once harvesting is over, we have Ben put up fences around our properties. My concern is they may get to the pakalolo. Can you imagine what would happen with a pig high on marijuana?”

  Ruth nodded with laughter. “What do we do to keep them out?”

  “Keeping the fences in check is our first line of defense. Right now we have to have Ben trap and dispatch them.”

  “Dispatch them?” Ruth inquired.

  “Kill them, donating their carcasses to needy families, a local luau, or someone who would love fresh pork. For the other undesirables, such as mongoose, Ben dispatches them to what we locals call another zip code; meaning a field a few miles from here so they don’t return. Having Ben around is such a help for us women.

  “Paul once shot a 200 pound pig. A few days later, the Martin’s had Ben prep and cook da pig in their Imu, that’s the large earthen barbecue pit near your shed, and had a luau for their friends and ohana before they returned to New York.”

  “I remember them telling us about that adventure. They said the pig was tender and succulent.”

  “The rifle should still be somewhere in your house.”

  “It’s in my closet.” Ruth added. “Are you suggesting I shoot the pig?”

  “Oh, not at all. There may be a night where you may need to protect yourself from da pigs, they sometimes get aggressive and may charge you. When they charge you, you have two choices either climb a tree or shoot. When I hear them at night, I always take my rifle. Luckily the flashlight usually scares them and they trot away. Like what happened to you last night.”

  “I have at least two mongoose running around my place. I thought they would be like the squirrels in Central Park looking for a hand out. They run away from me when I approach them. They don’t seem to be an issue. So why would Ben dispatch them?” Ruth queried.

  “Mongoose aren’t really an issue, they love to consume eggs. With all the chickens around we have a plethora of fresh eggs. Wait here!”

  Auntie left Ruth on the lanai and returned moments later carrying a bowl with two eggs, one of which was slightly smaller than the other. Auntie took both eggs out of the bowl and placed the bowl and both eggs next to their coffee mugs. She pointed to the smaller egg.

  “This egg is from one of the feral chickens. See how it’s slightly smaller than the store bought egg.” Auntie took the larger egg into her hand and cracked it open into the bowl and followed doing the same thing with the smaller egg and handed the bowl for Ruth to inspect.

  “Notice the difference in the yokes?”

  “The yoke from the smaller egg is much larger than the store bought egg. Why is it?” Ruth asked.

  “It means the egg is feral, on the mainland they like to use phrases like organic or free range eggs. You probably haven’t seen any eggs because your mongoose are eating the eggs before you know they are there. We’ll have Ben dispatch the mongoose to another zip code. Most of all, the feral eggs are free and much more tastier than the store bought ones. Would you like scrambled eggs for breakfast?”

  Ruth’s Idea

  Ruth drove down the road towards Waipio Valley past the Honoka’a Post Office and Mr. Woo’s where she saw three tall palm trees that formed the letters TV below which was a modern yet rustic looking wooden sign with green lettering identifying the metal Quonset hut as being KBI-TV, Big Island TV, Channel 32. Ruth parked and entered.

  The austerity of the interior bore a strange resemblance to Captain Binghamton’s office from the 1960’s McHale’s Navy television series. Behind the sole desk in the front reception area of the hut was a young twenties something Hawaiian woman, playing solitaire on the computer, looked up at Ruth as she entered the building.

  “May I help you?”

  “Yes, I’m Ruth Newcomb and am here to see Danny.”

  “He’s expecting you. Go ahead and enter.”

  “Thank you.”

  Ruth entered Danny’s office to find him typing on the computer, he looked up and stood as she entered. The office looked as though it was frozen in time with the television playing a re-run of Gilligan’s Island.

  “Come in.” Danny pointed to one of the two chairs in front of his desk. “Have a seat. Good to finally officially meet you. May I call you Ruth?”

  “Yes, of course, darling, er, Danny.”

  “I was hoping you would call.” Danny continued. “I like your idea for a Big Island travelogue series.”

  “I do have one request.” Ruth asked. “Alexander Mackendrick, director of Sweet Smell of Success and dean of California Institute of the Arts Film School kept an egg timer on his desk. When students would pitch an idea, he told them, ‘If you cannot finish your pitch by the time the egg timer runs out, don’t come back until you can.’ And turned the egg timer upside down. I thought we could utilize the same concept with our segments, keep them as short as we can while getting the true essence across.”

  “What an unusual yet creative idea. I don’t see an issue with keeping the se
gments short.” Danny hesitated a moment before continuing, “Ruth, you do realize we can’t pay you what you got in New York.”

  “That’s okay. This is Hawaii, things are different here. I want da money to go to da Honokaa Library. They need it more than I do.”

  “What a wonderful thing to do for the island.”

  Ruth smiled. “Ma-ha-lo, Danny.”

  “If the show is anything like From the Big Apple both locals and tourists will like it.” Danny continued, “What do you think about calling da show From the Big Island?”

  “Love it! However, From the Big Island doesn’t sound just right.” Ruth responded.

  “I think it’s perfect.”

  “Well, it is almost perfect. What I was thinking is we need to make a minor change,” Danny cocked his head as Ruth continued, “making it more Hawaiian and change the word the to da. It’s da Hawaiian way, correct?”

  Danny raised his eyebrows, smiled and nodded, “I love it!”

  “It will make all da difference. We’ll call it From da Big Island. However, we need something else.”

  “Like what?” Danny inquired.

  “When I did From the Big Apple, our logo was a large stylized apple behind da title. We need to do something similar, perhaps a palm tree?”

  “Over done.”

  “Hibiscus flower?”

  “Over done.”

  “A lotus flower.”

  “Over done.”

  Danny stared into space for a moment and then snapped his fingers. “I got it!”

  “What?”

  “FBI!”

  “FBI?” Ruth responded.

  “Yes, FBI - From da Big Island. Get it?”

  Ruth nodded.

  Danny continued, “We have FBI in large yellow letters, with From da Big Island in a smaller font.”

  “Won’t people get confused with the FBI?”

  “I don’t think so, this is Hawaii, not da mainland. We’ll even put the da in small letters between the F and B. How could anyone misinterpret that logo between us and the Federal Bureau of Investigation?”