by Jane Peart
It was a dazzling scene that gave Jana a feeling of unreality, as though she were watching a colorful pageant, not being part of it. Then a voice at her side spoke.
“Good evening, Miss Rutherford.” It was Joel. “You look lovely.”
“Mahalo, thank you. It’s borrowed. A fairy godmother waved a magic wand over me and—poof!—here I am,” she laughed.
Joel shook his head. “You amaze me. You’re so natural, it’s refreshing. Most girls simper when paid a compliment and start to fuss and fiddle with their hair or dress. I find it totally charming.”
“To be honest, I have no idea how other girls act under these circumstances. It’s the first time I’ve ever been to such a ball. I do feel like Cinderella.”
“Would you like to dance?” he smiled.
“Yes. Edith and I have been practicing for weeks for just such a chance,” Jana replied and let him lead her out onto the dance floor.
With a few false starts they got in step, and within minutes Jana was having the time of her life. Every once in a while she caught a glimpse of herself in the wall mirror. It was like looking at someone else. As Joel whirled her around in time to the music, the dress caught the light, and its fluttering ruffles edged with beading sparkled.
She and Joel were chatting between sets when Bayard’s stint in the receiving line was evidently over, and he came up to them. “Come now, Joel, you cannot monopolize Jana all evening. Give someone else a turn, old fellow.”
“Reluctantly,” said Joel good-naturedly and left. When the music began again, Bayard held out his arms and Jana moved into them.
He danced as well as he rode, she thought, with skill and confidence. They circled the room three or four times, then reversed. But before she realized what he was doing, he had smoothly danced over to the open French windows and out onto the lanai. The night air was warm, balmy, scented. His hand circling her waist dropped to capture her hand. They walked to the edge, where the camellia bushes rimmed the terraced wall. He plucked a creamy blossom from its stem and handed it to her.
Jana took the flower, lifting it to her nose and inhaling the heavy sweetness of its fragrance. The only noise was the distant sound of the surf, the whisper of palm fronds crackling softly in the wind. Then Bayard spoke.
“Just one question. Was the gallant paniolo just playing a role this morning, or is he truly your cavalier?”
Surprised at his directness, Jana hesitated. Her truth might be one-sided. She had not yet talked to Kimo since the incident at the rodeo, had not yet discovered what he had meant when he handed her his ribbon. She couldn’t be sure it meant what she hoped. Why did Bayard want to know? Why should she tell him? As her hesitation lengthened, Bayard gave a short laugh. “So is the old saying true? ‘Silence gives consent’?”
“Not exactly. I don’t know how to answer,” she said quietly. “That paniolo was Kimo Kipola. Akela’s cousin. I think you knew him—at least, as a boy. He’s been away. On Oahu, at the Heritage Academy.”
“Oh, an alli, then. Not just a cowboy. He rides like a seasoned paniolo.”
“But then, so do you.”
“We islanders—,” he began, but a peal of laughter broke in on them as Edith and Tom and several other couples burst out from the ballroom. It was intermission, and the dancers were flocking out to the lanai to enjoy the cool ocean breeze.
There was no opportunity to continue the conversation. Actually, it had not been so much a conversation as an interrogation of her by Bayard. She was glad it had not continued. Why should she expose her heart to his razor-sharp wit? Why hand over her secret for him to examine, maybe ridicule? No. Jana had no intention of confiding in Bayard Preston.
The waiters followed the dancers out, bringing trays holding cups of cool punch for refreshment between dances. Joel had again engaged Jana’s attention, and she was soon chatting with the others. When the music started playing again, Joel claimed her for the next set.
As the dancing continued, Jana had many partners. Even Greg Amory asked her to dance, and she found he was more pleasant than she had previously thought.
Ten minutes before midnight, the band stopped. Colonel Preston held up his hands for silence. “Time to see the new year in. Everyone is invited to come outside, and we’ll see the old year out with a fine farewell, and the new one in with a howdy-do. Come along, we’ll give 1886 a rousing welcome.”
Jana knew from past years that Colonel Preston always put on an extravagant fireworks display that lit up the sky in celebration.
As brilliant, colorful bursts of scattering lights spun out in beautiful arcs against the dark sky, there were oohs and aahs of wonder. Then everyone joined in the slowly chanted countdown to midnight, until at last came the exuberant shout, “Happy New Year!”
Jana had been so entranced watching the fireworks, she did not notice that Bayard was standing behind her until the new year was announced. All around her, happy wishes and kisses were exchanged. She felt his arm go around her waist, and he turned her around, drew her close. “Hau’oli Makahiki Hou,” he whispered. Before she could draw back, his lips had found her mouth, in a kiss far more intense than a friendly New Year’s greeting.
Jana was too startled to react at first. Besides, Bayard was holding her too tightly for her to easily escape his embrace. Underneath the happy voices and laughter, he said, “I had no idea you would grow up to be so irresistible.”
Jana gave him a gentle push and stepped back, breathless, a little dizzy. Before she could think of a reply, Joel came up, said, “Happy New Year, Jana,” and kissed her lightly. When she looked, Bayard had slipped away into the group around her. Tom and Greg and Edith followed, all laughing and happily exchanging kisses and greetings. Minutes later, Colonel Preston was inviting everyone to go inside again and toast the new year with a freshly uncorked bottle of champagne.
Although on the surface Jana joined with the others in the lighthearted chatter, inside she was a little shaken. Maybe when she was twelve or so, attention from Edith’s older brother might have sent her head whirling, her heart thudding. Now it only troubled her. Now Kimo was back on the island. She had yet to discover if he loved her. Until she knew how Kimo felt toward her, she could not have any romantic feelings toward anyone else.
By one o’clock the party had dwindled. Most of the guests had departed after being served a sumptuous buffet. A few remained, gathered in clusters of conversation, some continuing to dance until the sleepy musicians packed up their instruments and prepared to leave.
Edith, as effervescent as each new bottle of champagne that Colonel Preston opened, was still dancing with a succession of partners.
Bayard had left to escort some of his father’s guests who were staying over down to the cottages. Jana and Joel sat near the open lanai doors, enjoying plates of fluffy scrambled eggs, banana nut bread, and cups of black, steaming Kona coffee. Greg Amory joined them. He looked around the room, commenting, “Look at this place! What a mess.”
The other two followed his glance. Everywhere were the scattered remains of the party. The confetti that had been tossed out at midnight lay in crumpled streams of colors on the floor, wilting flowers hung limply where they had been festooned, the ribbons draped above the windows drooped gaudily in the light edging in through the windows.
“I’d sure hate to be on the cleanup committee,” Joel laughed. “That’s usually where I land after dances at our fraternity house.”
“But you’re in Hawaii,” Jana reminded him. “Maybe the menehuenes will come and do it all.”
“Menehuenes?” Greg echoed.
“Yes. The legendary ‘little people’ of the islands. You know, like Irish leprechauns or the trolls in Scandinavia? You’ve heard of them, haven’t you?” Joel asked, eyes twinkling with the newly gained authority he had from Jana’s coaching. “Well, the menehuenes are something like that. They build, do all sorts of mysterious things. They’re said to appear only at night—but many claim to see them even in broad dayl
ight.”
“Come on!” Greg gave Joel a withering look. “Where did you get that kind of foolishness?”
“From an expert on Hawaii,” Joel grinned.
Greg glanced at Jana. “You?”
“Yes, me!” she retorted. “And I get my information from the people who should know—the old ones, the Kama’aina.” She looked Greg square in the eye. “There is so much about Hawaii that people don’t know and outsiders don’t understand,” she said, hoping to beat him at his own game with her dismissing tone. However, it seemed to just whet Greg’s appetite for baiting.
“You don’t really believe all this stuff, do you?” Greg asked skeptically. “I mean, about Pele and the volcano and these—what did you call them, menehuenes?” Without waiting for her answer, Greg went on. “It’s positively uncanny how primitive it all is under the surface.” He halted, daring Jana to respond. “You seem like an intelligent girl. How can you stand—don’t you ever want to see any place else? I mean, it’s so limited here, so provincial—aren’t you curious about the rest of the civilized world?”
Jana was ready to launch into a heated defense, when Colonel Preston walked over to make sure they were getting enough to eat, having a good time. The argument was immediately dropped.
In the absence of the band, Edith and Tom were seated at the piano, playing a lively tune, singing a duet. Some of the others, who’d thought they had run out of energy, now gathered around the piano.
Colonel Preston studied his daughter with pleasure. She was impetuous, stubborn, but also completely charming. There were only brief flashes when he saw his beautiful second wife in her. A momentary twinge of sadness and regret tugged at his heart as he remembered the serene, lovely, darkeyed beauty who had been Edith’s mother. The woman who had given him nothing but joy had left a daughter both headstrong and reckless who might one day be a problem. Still, his pride in his daughter was boundless.
“Edith lights up any room,” Colonel Preston remarked almost to himself, then turned to Jana. “You’ve heard of people who march to a different drummer…Edith dances to a melody no one else can hear.”
It seemed a surprisingly lyrical observation for such a pragmatic man to make. Yet it was true. Edith had something quite unique, both the look of an American girl and the exotic beauty inherited from her Hawaiian mother.
Colonel Preston got to his feet. “I hope nothing changes her, takes that glow. I know that’s wishful thinking. Whether we like it or not, whether we want it or not, life is a constant change. As the saying goes, ‘One cannot hold back the dawn.’” He smiled at Jana. “And speaking of dawn, I have to admit that my old bones have just about had it. I’ll leave you young ones to see in the first morning of the new year. I’m going to call it a night.”
With a courtly bow he left, walking as steadily and straight as if he had not consumed a great quantity of the vintage champagne he had been urging on everyone else. The three of them watched him leave. Greg nodded his head in the direction of the piano, where Edith was still holding forth. “She’s certainly the apple of his eye, isn’t she? His little princess that nothing’s too good for, right?”
“Well, I suppose so,” Jana replied. “She is his only daughter—naturally he would dote on her.”
“Oh, that’s obvious. And she is a stunner. Especially in that Hawaiian outfit she’s wearing tonight.” He squinted his eyes slightly. He turned to Jana and said seriously, “There are subtle dangers in being brought up to believe you’re special. There’s danger for others as well—being lured into so much brilliance. Like moths drawn to the flame, there’s a real possibility of being consumed.”
It seemed a strange comment, when Jana knew he was the object of Edith’s shining. Was he actively resisting her flame?
Suddenly she felt very tired. “I think I’ll say good night,” she said and stood up. Joel stood up, too, and walked with her out to the hall.
At the bottom of the staircase, he said, “I’ve enjoyed being with you. You’ve made this vacation special, Jana. I hope we’ll meet again—sometime.”
“You’ll come back to Hawaii. People usually do.”
“I hope to.”
He seemed to be about to say something else, but Jana said good night and went quickly upstairs.
She took off her borrowed finery, returned the gown to Edith’s room, and replaced the dancing slippers, a little worse for wear. Edith’s bed had been turned down, her nightgown and robe laid out for her, a thermos jug placed on the bedside table. Her every need, every wish, anticipated, taken care of—a princess indeed, just as Greg had commented. Looking around for a moment, Jana became newly aware of the difference between Edith’s home life and her own. She had been here only a few days, and yet she realized how easy it would be to be seduced by all this luxury. When you were with the Prestons—any of them, the Colonel, Bayard, or Edith—there was this feeling that life was to be enjoyed fully, with no thought of tomorrow. It was such a contrast to how life was lived in her own home. Her parents, while not at all stuffy or overly strict, were both idealistic and high principled. They believed that the purpose of life was not merely to be happy, but to contribute something, to do something worthwhile, something that mattered. To find God’s will for your life, was the important thing.
In his own words, all Colonel Preston wanted was for Edith to be happy. And what about Bayard? Did Colonel Preston expect more of his son? Probably. One day all this would belong to Bayard. A crown prince to take over the kingdom.
Back in the guest room, Jana put the gardenia Bayard had given her into the small crystal vase beside the bed. She thought of the intensity of his kiss…What should she make of it?
This room overlooked the lanai, from which the murmur of voices and the laughter of the group who still lingered rose. Someone was singing a familiar Hawaiian melody, accompanied by the sweet plink of a ukulele. The sounds mingled dreamily as she drifted off.
For her the party had ended. The holidays were over. It had been an exciting interlude. But that’s all it had been.
Chapter Nine
Jana was not sure how long she had been asleep when suddenly, slashing through her dreams, came Bayard’s harsh command, “Get to bed, Edith!”
Instantly awake, Jana sat bolt upright in bed, every nerve tingling. She strained to listen for what might follow. But she could hear nothing more. Only dead silence. The loudest sound was her own heart hammering. She reached for the small clock on the bedside table. After three! She had left the party little more than an hour ago. What had happened since then? What had Edith done to cause her brother to shout at her like that?
She only had to wait minutes to find out. She heard running feet along the corridor outside her room, and then the door burst open and Edith ran in, flung herself, sobbing, onto Jana’s bed.
Jana put her arms around her friend’s violently shaking shoulders. Frightened, she held her while the wrenching sobs went on and on. Bayard adored his little sister, treated her with affectionate indulgence. What kind of quarrel had erupted between them to bring on this?
Gradually the gulping sobs lessened, the ragged breaths became gasps. Finally Edith sat up, wiping her eyes with her fists like a child, and found her voice.
“I’ll never forgive him! Never!” she said fiercely between clenched teeth.
“Kiki, tell me! What happened?”
“I’m furious! How could Bayard humiliate me that way? I didn’t do anything wrong! He just…just assumed…oh, I don’t know what! It was beastly of him.”
“Calm down, please. Just tell me what happened.”
Edith gulped. “I need a hankie.”
“Here, use this!” Jana lifted the bud vase in which she had put her gardenia and slipped the lace-edged doily from under it and handed it to Edith. “Now tell me.”
“Well…,” she began, then sniffled and blew her nose before going on. “Only a few of us were left—actually me, Greg, Tom, and Joel. You know how interested he is in everything abo
ut Hawaii, asking all sorts of questions—about the native customs and so on. He asked about Hawaiian music, so I picked up a ukulele and was playing some of the tunes we all know. He liked one particularly and I told him it was one the hula was danced to. Well, one thing led to another, and I decided to show him what a hula was. I took off my shoes“—Edith pulled up her skirt and stuck out her legs, wiggling bare feet—”and I began to dance for him. I was telling one of the island legends, the way Akela’s mother taught us, and I was just doing it, when all of a sudden Bayard came thundering out onto the lanai and shouted at me!”
“And that’s all? That’s it?”
Edith nodded. “I don’t know what got into him or what he thought I was doing—but I’ve never seen him so angry. I was shocked. Totally stunned. I dropped the ukulele and ran into the house.” She sniffed again. “I don’t know what the others thought. Or how Bayard will explain himself to his friends.” Edith thumped a fist on the edge of the mattress. “Oh, it was unspeakable! I’ll never forgive him for shaming me like that—in front of everyone. Especially Greg!”
“Oh, Kiki,” Jana said, attempting to soothe her. “It will probably all blow over. In the morning, everyone will have forgotten it.”
“I won’t have,” Edith said stubbornly.
“Bayard will be sorry,” Jana assured her. “I’m sure he would never intentionally hurt you.” Then she added as an afterthought, “You know, everyone had a great deal of champagne…“ This, she knew, was rather a lame excuse. She had the feeling it wasn’t too much champagne that had made Bayard lash out at his sister. It was more probably his own internal conflicts.
It was a long time before Edith stopped railing at her brother. After a while she seemed to go limp.
“Things will look better tomorrow. You’ll see, Kiki.”
“I don’t know how,” Edith sighed.
“I’m sure Bayard will apologize and everything will be fine.”