Cowrie

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Cowrie Page 7

by Cathie Dunsford


  “Everyone knew him. He was one of our best musicians. His fingers were made by the gods. They could fly over the frets.” He takes the ‘ukulele down and demonstrates the rapid movement.

  “Will you tell me about him?” asks Cowrie, humbled by his awe for her grandfather.

  “One day,” replies the old man. “The time is not right yet.”

  This is all Cowrie needs. She has scrimped and saved with years of fruitpicking and scratched, torn hands in between her studies to make it over to her grandfather’s homeland to find out more about him, her family’s past. Finally she discovers someone who knew him apart from Keo and now he says to wait a while. Stuffed if I’m going to play the detective forever, thinks Cowrie.

  “So when will the time be right?”

  “You will know,” he replies.

  “How will I know?” she pleads.

  “You will know,” he answers, looking out over the heads of his family and up towards the far slopes of Kilauea. Cowrie follows his eyes. She hopes that the right time doesn’t involve another brush with Pele. She decides to behave herself in the meantime, just in case.

  Koana’s family convince them to stay the night. There is plenty of room in the open air under the pink corrugated iron awnings.

  Kia ora Mere,

  Voila! Some more clues for you to ponder over. Turns out Koana’s whanau knew my grandfather wall! But I felt Ika‘Aka was holding something back. He showed me an exquisitely carved ‘ukulele Apelahama had made, with a turtle etched on to its belly! He raved about grandpa’s skill as a musician, but said nothing of his family life. He said I’d find out more later but “the time is not right yet.” So when will It be right? Or is he just keeping family secrets? Maybe they didn’t like him leaving for Aotearoa and marrying a haole (Pakeha) there? While I’m impatiant, it also seems important to let the mystery unravel in its own time. Maybe I’ve learned some of the lessons you tried to teach me after all!

  (I see you shaking your head in disbelief!)

  Did you see Aunty Rawinia? What did she say? I’m anxious to hear. No mail will reach me now for about a week until we return to Na‘alehu. Koana is here and we’re taking the twins to visit their cousins than home via the volcanoes. The presence of Pele is everywhere on this island, but especially around the volcanoes. I get a shivar of anticipation just thinking about being in her crater – like a journey to the centre of the earth. Maybe that’s what I came here to discover. The power of the land.

  Knowing about Apelahama personally seems less important now. He left enough tokens in his box to bring me to his island. I feel his whakapapa everywhere. You used to encourage me to try to see the patterns of my dreams. They are all of creativity and destruction: the curved bowl of the crater as it embraces and angulfs me, the concave shape of the wave as it sends me towards shore, but also has the power to destroy my landing, like the floating coconuts that get smashed on to the rocks, their sweet milk oozing like blood into the swirling surf. Will the destructive forces cancel out the creativity?

  Meeting Koana’s whanau reminded me of home. I miss you deeply. If you are in a lot of pain, hold my cowrie shell in the palm of your hand and I will be with you. Talk to me and I’ll whisper back through the shall. I love you.

  Cowrie.

  After a breakfast of kalo and coconut cooked in banana leaves, Meleana gives them a kete of food for the next part of their journey. Now Honu and her crew are sailing their waka down the eastern road from Hilo, heading for Kaniahiku village where Nele and Peni will see their cousins again. Their Aunty Ela married a haole from Texas and Koana is not that fond of him. But she loves visiting Ela and knows that Chad will be at work.

  Their arrival is subdued after the excitement at Hilo. Ela is quiet and withdrawn. Cowrie senses that she is not happy and offers to take all the kids down to the village to allow Ela and Koana some time together. She is relieved to see them relaxed on her return. Ela then agrees to look after all the children. Koana tells Cowrie she’d like to take her to one of her special childhood places. Since Hilo, Koana has softened and does not seem to be holding Cowrie so much at arm’s length.

  They drive down Pahoiki Road towards the ocean. It is the only time they have been alone since Puako, when Koana first seemed distant. Cowrie keeps to safe topics of conversation. Koana appears to be quite open and unconcerned.

  Koana advises her to park on the lava near the ocean. She picks up the kete and leads Cowrie along a trail beside the sea, hardly noticeable from the bay. They follow the black rocks and dazzling water until the track leads inland. Cowrie is longing for a swim but Koana cautions her to be patient. She takes a deep breath and relaxes into her surroundings. Huge palms resembling nikau stretch above forming an archway protecting the track. The roar of the sea recedes into the background as they move further into the trees. Cowrie notices one that has the shiny dark green leaves of avocado but it bears no fruit. It is nevertheless lush and inviting.

  They enter a clearing surrounded by the largest palms Cowrie has ever seen. Their branches nearly join over a round, deep pond that is so clean she can see every shape and texture of the coloured stones beneath the water as if lit up by moonlight. Black lava-rock, earthen-red stones from the volcano, the white pumice found around the beaches, lie nestled together, glistening in their rain-soaked haven. There is no wind. The silence encircling them, broken only by the faint song of the ocean they have left behind, feels hushed, even sacred.

  Koana kneels at the lip of the pond, beckoning Cowrie to join her. She offers a karakia to the water. Cowrie remains silent, breathing in the warm air as the prayer is uttered. Then Koana stands, flicks off her lavalava and dives into the pool. She beckons Cowrie to join her. Shy, Cowrie moves to the shallow end, drops her cloth and wades in slowly. She is amazed to find the water is slightly warmer than body temperature and very soothing.

  Koana is like a dolphin in water. Cowrie has not seen her so active and graceful since the hula dance at Keo’s when she brushed so warmly against her thigh. She dismisses the memory as soon as it occurs and focuses on enjoying the present. Koana engages her in dolphin play and Cowrie abandons herself to the joy of their reunion. This gift of taking her to a special childhood place must be Koana’s way of saying she still cares, that Cowrie is important to her.

  Koana is first out of the water and she gestures Cowrie to come up the bank and lie face up on her lavalava. She panics for a moment, then relaxes when she sees Koana taking her lomilomi lotions and oils from her kete and placing them delicately beside the lavalava spread out on the warm earth. She lies down and Koana kneels at her hair, chanting, her fingertips embracing Cowrie’s head down to her ears. Then Koana circles her three times and moves to her feet, repeating the ritual. Cowrie tries to relax and forget that it is Koana bending over her naked body. She lets the hands massage her feet and move along her calves, up towards her tingling thighs. When she feels she can bear it no longer, Koana, as if tuned to her spirit, begins again at her head and massages down her body.

  Cowrie has never felt like this before. Koana does not just use her hands and fingertips but her entire forearm rolls over Cowrie’s body and her elbows delve deep. Koana rolls her over and begins work on her back, discovering an egg-shaped lump hidden under her right shoulder blade. She homes in on it, pushing the energy outwards, releasing the tension. The feeling is painful and delicious at once.

  By the time Koana finishes the massage, Cowrie is asleep. Seeing this, Koana bends over her friend, smiling, and kisses her gently on the cheek. She then covers her with the lavalava and settles beside her, deep in thought.

  Ever since Puako, Koana has been wondering what led Cowrie to love other women as much as her own ‘ohana. She tries to imagine what it would be like to be sexually intimate with any of her women friends. What would Meleana or Aka think of her then? She remembers falling in love with her closest friend, Wanaka, at school. They did everything together. They even touched each other’s bodies with intense anticipat
ion and joy every week when their parents met on pepe hahau nights when she and Wanaka were tucked up together in the bed on the open porch. They’d count the stars and make animal shapes with their fingers raised up between the oil lamp and the wall. Then they’d run their hands and fingers over each other’s bodies, pretending to massage like their mothers did, but softly, gently. She remembers the excitement of feeling Wanaka’s growing breasts beneath her fingers and the way her own nipples would rise and harden to Wanaka’s touch. But they were just children. It meant nothing, surely? It was just a part of discovering their sexuality, a part of growing up.

  Cowrie stirs beside her. Her eyes open and she smiles. Koana feels the re-awakened memory of Wanaka stir in her. She looks away. But not before Cowrie has noticed. Koana slips down into the pool. Cowrie watches her swim under water. She slides down the bank and is there to meet Koana when she surfaces. Koana appears shy. Cowrie lifts a wet finger to her cheek and says, “Mahalo, Koana. For the lomilomi magic. Mahalo.” Koana glances down into the water then raises her eyes. She bends over and kisses Cowrie on her cheek. Cowrie lifts her lips up to Koana’s mouth, but she has disappeared into the water.

  Cowrie decides to bide her time. For the remainder of the afternoon, they play in the water and rest close together on the bank, enjoying the warmth. The sun begins to lower and Koana suggests they return. Cowrie agrees, but wants one last swim. She enters the water and lies on her back floating with her arms and legs out-stretched like a starfish. Her large body allows her to float effortlessly and this has always been Cowrie’s most relaxed way to meditate. Because her ears are under water, she can tune out the earthly noise and tune into the eerie, other-worldy sounds beneath the surface. She dreams of a peaceful existence, hopes that this new layer of richness in her relationship with Koana will not alter the balance and happiness of their whanau life with Nele and Peni and their extended family.

  As she floats Cowrie feels a ripple of water beneath her, a fin moving along her back. It has the touch of Koana’s fingertips when she applied her lomilomi magic to Cowrie’s body. She rolls over and looks down into the crystal-clear water. Nothing but rounded stones, the colours of Pele’s crater. She dives to pluck a smooth, red oval stone from the pool floor and surfaces with it. Climbing the bank, she presents it to Koana, who smiles and places it delicately in the waist fold of her lavalava, against the soft flesh of her belly. Hand in hand, they return, following the track through the waving palms towards the sea.

  Tena koe Kuini,

  Imagine a transparent calm ocean in the midst of that nikau grove we love so much at Karioi, with a base of ochre, cream and lava black stones. Imagine floating on the surface like a turtle, looking down into the centre of the earth with all her sensuality bared naked to the sky. Koana took me to such a place today—her secret childhood retreat. It was like making love. She nearly kissed me on the lips but instead gave me a sensuous massage, her way of expressing her feelings for me. I no longer wanted more. I felt totally satisfied by what she was able to give instead of needing her to be as I wanted her. A few days ago, all my hidden rage at having to repress my feelings as an outsider in my own land, my own body, surfaced and I took utu by sacrificing a hideous flesh-eating fish. Now I feel relief. A letting go. It’s as if I can finally accept what is, instead of always wanting what is not. A new freedom for me.

  I may come home for the writers’ hui and the opening of the new marae.

  I love it here but am missing you all and this journey is urging me to get beyond feeling silenced. I’m beginning to think I might have a few things to say! How’s your own writing? I loved that story about the eel coming back to life inside the belly of a politician!

  Haunted me for ages. Take care of your precious self, Kuini.

  Arohanui

  Cowrie.

  They drive down the coast to Opihikao and back towards Kaniahiku on the Kamai‘i Road. Koana points out the the ravages of the 1955 lava flow to their left and later, the Pawai Crater and explains that each lava-flow covers a new village, burying history that now remains solely with the inhabitants and talkstory. Cowrie is lured by the power of Pele to alter the landscape as she moves through land sculpted by the hands of a woman who holds within her grasp the power to create and destroy life at her whim.

  When they return, Chad is there. He greets them in his Texan drawl, sucks back another swig of Budweiser and burps, hardly lifting his eyes from the Laker’s game bellowing out from the huge, colour television which swamps their small living room. Ela looks sad. The children are outside playing in their tree hut.

  Cowrie cannot bear to see this woman so downcast. She suggests they go to the village for dinner. Her treat.

  “What? In the middle of a Laker’s game?” Chad replies.

  “Then you won’t mind staying here while I take Ela, Koana and the kids to dinner, so long as we bring you some food back,” states Cowrie.

  “The wife can make me some food first, then you can go.”

  Cowrie wants to rip out her fish knife and offer him freshly cut meatballs for his tea but thinks the better of it. She knows the dangers of intervening in settled domestic routines.

  “No. I think we should let you concentrate on the game. We’ll be back soon with food,” she offers, much to the shock of Ela and the amusement of Koana.

  “Just don’t bring me any of that nigger food wrapped in banana leaves,” he yells. “A double burger with fries and a large coke will do.”

  “Sure thing, pardner,” drawls Cowrie, hustling the others into Honu before Chad has a chance to change his mind.

  Ela is amazed at her brashness, that she gets away with being so assertive with Chad. Cowrie explains that she’s had plenty of practice working with women at the halfway house back home, learning negotiation skills so they can avoid a bashing until they can find more permanent safe housing to live in. “The secret,” she explains, “is to let them think they are getting what they want, while getting what you want also. Sane men will want to contribute to a relationship. Only bullies and those into power need to lord it over others. You let them think they have the upper hand until you can escape. Chad’s uppermost desire was to watch the Lakers. Second came food. We gave him both and the option of being alone to watch the game. Touché, for now.”

  Koana asks how long it has been like this.

  Ela sighs. She tells them that she became pregnant to Chad at sixteen when he was over in Honolulu on site at a new hotel they were building. He came into the bar where she worked every night. Gradually, they got to know each other. When she found out she was pregnant, he said they must go back to Texas. They went, for three years, but Ela hated it. Then Chad was offered work back in Hawai‘i for good pay building a new hotel complex, so he said they could return, for a while anyway. Ela decided that when the work was over, she would not go back to Texas with Chad. She wanted her children to grow up in their native land. But she was too afraid to tell Chad in case he hit her. He had done so before when angry and full of booze.

  Koana urges Ela to ask for the support of their extended family and suggests a family meeting negotiated by Meleana and Hale. Chad could decide what to do then and Ela and the kids could stay with Koana or Meleana until it was sorted out. Koana knows that Chad will go back to Texas and hopes it will allow Ela to regain some of her old confidence and begin again.

  Koana and Ela work out the dates and logistics of this meeting and by the time they reach the village restaurant Ela’s face glows with new hope. The kids are jumping up and down in the tray and Cowrie needs to park before one of them falls off. She pulls up under a tree and its towering arms remind her of lying in the pool, looking up through the palms to the sky beyond, the turtle fin rippling the water beneath her and the feel of Koana’s hands on her body. She longs to touch Koana.

  Instead, she concentrates her erotic desire on the baskets of food that keep appearing at the other tables in the restaurant. They order a banquet of seafood. The children enjoy sampling but
Ela’s kids declare they like burgers better than ‘ahi. Ela tells them to get used to it because they will be here for the rest of their schooling. That meets with their approval since, apart from burgers and walkmans, they prefer Hawai‘i to Texas, where some of the other children bullied them at school, calling them ‘coconuts’.

  After their meal, they collect the junk food for Chad and head home. He is asleep on the couch, the tv still blaring and a dozen empties littered around him encircling an ashtray of butts. Cowrie waves the food over his nostrils. He is out to it. She leaves the greasy mound beside him.

  Koana and Ela share the double bed while Cowrie slings her hammock between the porch posts. The twins sleep in the tree-hut with their cousins.

  Chad has left for work by the time they wake. Cowrie packs Honu for the final part of their journey home while Koana and Ela clean the living room mess up. In the night, Chad rolled over and squashed the burgers flat, knocked over the coke and sent the chips sprawling across the floor. He told Ela never to let that kiwi broad back in the house and he’d get breakfast at work where they knew how to serve a decent meal. Ela wished Pele would engulf him in her lava flow and sizzle up a Double Texan Special: Quarter Pounder plus!

  They stay for a strong pot of Kona coffee. Koana makes Ela promise she will call Meleana at the first opportunity and set up a meeting. Then they exchange their farewells before setting off for Na‘alehu.

  Instead of returning to the main road, Koana suggests they go the coast way, so they drive along Pahoiki Road, past the bay where Koana massaged Cowrie by the pond. Cowrie steals a glance over Nele’s head to Koana. She smiles back, her seductive eyes glistening.

  Dear Suzy,

  Hope my letter didn’t worry you too much. I’ve worked most of it through now. But you always said to share it, let it out, and finally I did. Thanks for listening. No need to reply unless you want to. On the road now with Koana and the kids.

 

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