Silversword

by Phyllis A. Whitney

  He said, “No, thanks,” and followed her out the door without another look for me. There’d been a time when shutting me out would have mattered. It didn’t anymore, and I hoped he would begin to write me off.

  I didn’t wait outside, but went into the long stable. The stalls were partly empty, since some of the horses were off on a sunset crater trip.

  “I haven’t ridden much lately,” I told him, “so give me a mare who’s fairly docile.”

  “What I ought to do,” he said, “is give you the meanest horse we’ve got and let you break your damn neck.”

  I spoke before he went into a stall. “I know you don’t like me, and that doesn’t matter. Though I don’t understand why.”

  “Then you’re not very bright. Everything was quiet here, and life wasn’t so bad for any of us. I was afraid you might start stirring things up because of your mother—and that’s just what you’ve done. Why should I like you?”

  “Just the same, you stopped Marla from coming with us today—and that was a break. Why did you help us with Marla?”

  He was stroking the mare, throwing a saddle over her back and fastening the girth. When he spoke again, the spurt of anger had gone out of him.

  “Maybe I can see by now that it’s no use. Maybe you’re the storm that’s brought the tidal wave, and there isn’t any way to stop what you’ve started. Not even you can stop it.”

  “So you’ve decided to give up?”

  “I’ve decided to help you—no matter what. It’s the best way to get it over with. Though you won’t thank me when it’s done. What happened today?”

  “Frank Wilkie flew us into the crater, and we walked with Noelle to where it happened.”

  “I thought David might pull something like that. I guess it’s time. Though I don’t know what this will do to Joanna. Maybe all any of us can do is head for high ground. Must be I’m getting old—I don’t care anymore. When Noelle winds up in an institution someplace, I hope you’ll be satisfied.”

  He led the mare out of the stall and patted her flank.

  “This is Pom-Pom. She has a good disposition, though she’ll nip if you annoy her. Feed her a carrot and get acquainted.”

  I held out a carrot and the mare nibbled. “Don’t you want to know what happened to Noelle up in the crater?”

  “I don’t suppose anything really happened or Manaolana would be in an uproar by now.”

  He was right—nothing much had happened, and Noelle was just as she’d been.

  We went outside and Tom helped me to mount. My bandaged knee hadn’t bothered me on the trip, but it was beginning to hurt—something I could still ignore.

  “Do you know where David Reed’s cabin is on the road to Olinda?” I asked Tom.

  “Sure. Just keep going uphill. You’ll see it before the road ends. It’s small and not very fancy. There’s a big monkeypod out in front.”

  I turned Pom-Pom toward the drive and Tom gave her flank a slap that caused her to break into a trot.

  In spite of everything, my spirits lifted. I was free of Scott forever, and that was a wonderful feeling. It was no concern of mine if Grandmother Elizabeth was still trying to put him in my father’ splace. I didn’t care. I would stay on in Maui, look for a job. Perhaps find a place of my own, as David’s father had suggested. Begin a whole new life. My life. I would still do whatever I could for Noelle, and I didn’t believe in all that tidalwave stuff Tom had talked about.

  It was lovely riding this road with the sun of late afternoon behind me, and the feeling of my “special island” around me. I could hardly wait to see David.

  I recognized the cabin with the monkeypod tree in front, and rode across a patch of grass. Two cars were parked on the drive, and I remembered tardily that Koma Olivero lived here too. He was the last person I wanted to see right now, but that couldn’t be helped. Maybe Koma would have to get used to having me around.

  Pom-Pom announced our presence with a snort, and David came out on the small lanai.

  “Hi,” I said. “Will you invite me in?”

  He helped me down from the saddle, and for a moment I stood close to him—reluctant to move because this was where I wanted to stand. But Koma too had come outside and was regarding me sardonically.

  “We have a visitor,” David told him, letting me go.

  “Then bring her in and we’ll put her to work,” Koma said.

  This was the first time that I’d seen him since I’d learned about our relationship, yet everything was as it had been before. Whatever existed between us was prickly with disliking.

  I followed them into a roomy kitchen where a big round table held stacks of envelopes and xeroxed sheets. Koma pulled out a chair for me and waved toward the stacks. “Those are notices of our next area meeting of the Protect Kahoolawe Ohana. You can help.”

  David said, “Hold on, Koma. Caroline’s just had a pretty upsetting experience, and maybe she’d like to talk about it.”

  “So she can go ahead and talk,” Koma shoved a pile of envelopes and paper toward me. “Fold and stuff!”

  “I can talk later,” I told David. “I’d like to help, if you’ll tell me what you’re doing. What’s the Protect Kahoolawe Ohana?”

  “Ohana means family—a related group,” David said as he joined Koma at the table. “It’s been going for a number of years, and of course the original idea was to stop the bombing of Kahoolawe. Though it’s now becoming a symbol to rally under for other Hawaiian causes as well. That’s the way I think it ought to go.”

  “You can seal and stamp too, if you want.” Koma pushed a dish with a sponge toward me. “I don’t suppose that a malihini like you even knows that in 1981 the whole island of Kahoolawe was named in the National Register of Historic Places—to be protected and preserved. In the past the Navy has invited other nations to come in with ships and planes and fire away. Practice for when they want to bomb real targets. Now New Zealand, France, Japan, and Australia have promised not to bomb the island.”

  David’s own fervor came through when he took up the story. “A lot has been accomplished. Resolutions have been passed in both houses of our state legislature to stop the bombing. Kahoolawe’s one of the eight major islands in the Hawaiian chain—it should be reclaimed.”

  “Has the bombing wrecked all of it?” I asked.

  “The target area’s been limited to one side of the island,” David admitted. “But practicing gunners and bombers haven’t always been accurate. There are whale sightings constantly here, and whales have sensitive hearing that can be injured. I’ve gone over there with Navy guides and there were still unexploded shells and duds. Some are outside the target area, so you don’t go wandering around, even now. There’s pressure on the Navy to clean it all up, and the situation isn’t as bad as it was a few years ago.”

  Koma pushed another stack of envelopes toward me. “We are part of the pressure that changes things. Sometimes bureaucrats forget about us—the people. Anyway, weaponry today is so far advanced that we don’t need to kill off an island with bombing. The Ohana can move on to other matters.”

  “To be fair,” David said, “earlier damage was done to the island by Hawaii’s rulers when the monarchy shipped goats over there. Wild goats have multiplied and they’ve eaten the vegetation down to its roots, so there’s nothing to hold the topsoil, and nothing can live. Even in the days of sailing ships, people used to report red clouds of dust rising from Kahoolawe because its earth was blowing away. The Navy and State Forestry have planted tamarisk trees to hold the soil, since that’s the one tree goats won’t eat. This is helping to stop the erosion.”

  “Can it ever be reclaimed and settled?” I asked.

  “Someday it will be.” Koma sounded positive—as he was about everything. “Ranching was done over there before World War II.”

  David went on. “Of course there are those who claim the island’s not worth saving because there’s no water and no one could live there. But people in other parts of the worl
d have lived on islands where there was only rain water and water brought in by ships. Look at the Virgin Islands, and Key West before it was piped in.”

  “If the people don’t have the last word, what can you do?” I asked.

  Koma lost none of his fervor. “This is still a democracy, and when enough voices are raised, governments listen. First there’s one voice—one lone voice shouting. Then another joins in—which makes two. That’s the beginning of addition—and multiplication. There’s been a strong ikaika going on here—a force and energy working for us, maybe even guiding us—something powerful that rises out of Maui earth. It’s our job to get more people to join the Ohana for the good of Hawaii.”

  David picked up Koma’s words. “Not everybody agrees with all we’ve done, but we have an obligation to tell the story of Hawaii’s need over and over, until more kamaaina, whatever their skin color, become involved. There’s strong feeling rising these days out of our land, Aloha aina means ‘love the land,’ and that’s our cry. If we take care of the land, it will take care of us, and that’s true everywhere.”

  Scorn came into Koma’s voice. “Over on the mainland Hawaii means a place to swim and sit in the sun and listen to steel guitars. But aloha aina applies everywhere—to humans and animals and fish in the sea. If we don’t begin to love the land—the earth, the water—all of them!—we lose them all.”

  I could sense the ardor in him now that would carry everything before it—not to destroy, but to build.

  “Koma’s right,” David said. “The Navy’s done a survey, so that five hundred historic sites on the island have been recorded. It should be a national treasure, yet the paths of shells have gone right over one of the richest petroglyph fields in Hawaii.”

  “What can I do?” I asked, caught up in the fervor I could feel in this cabin. “I need a job.”

  Both men stared at me. “Here?” Koma asked. “But you’re going back to San Francisco.”

  “That’s been changed. I’ve told Joanna that I’m staying, and she’s agreed. I think she really wanted me to stay all along. It’s mainly Marla who’d like me gone. Koma, my mother is beginning to remember. I don’t know if her mind will ever be right again, but she’s coming closer to the present all the time.”

  His antagonism toward me had softened a little. “Hey,” he said, “that’s good!”

  “You’re coming tomorrow night with your mother, aren’t you?” I asked. When he nodded, I went on. “I wonder if you could consult with Ailina about a song or two you might include? Sometimes music can bring back memories more than almost anything else. Ailina may know some song that my mother liked. Something that could be a bridge to the present.”

  “Sure,” Koma said. “I’ll tell her. Come to think of it, there’s a song I wrote that Noelle listens to intently. So maybe I’ll include that one too.”

  “You’ll have more people in your audience now,” David told him. “Caroline’s other grandmother and her former husband are here.”

  Koma looked startled. “Oh?”

  I didn’t trust the sudden gleam in his eyes. This “other grandmother” would interest him.

  “Whatever you’re thinking, forget it,” I said. “Let her alone. What happened wasn’t her fault.” For once, I was taking Elizabeth’s side, but only because I didn’t like Koma’s sense of the dramatic and what he might do under such circumstances.

  He laughed at my caution. “Maybe this affair that my mother’s roped me into will be interesting after all. And maybe it’s time to tell David, Caroline. What do you think?”

  All his mockery was back, and I didn’t answer.

  He went on flippantly. “There’s something I never got around to telling you, David. Caroline’s my half sister. How about that?”

  David wasn’t thrown by the news. He grinned at us both. “Remarkable! My best friend and my best girl!” He saw my face, and went on quickly, “Don’t you remember, Caro, when you were six years old and I told you you were my best girl?”

  “I remember,” I said, and touched the kukui lei.

  David turned quickly to Koma. “Look, friend, I don’t know what you’re cooking up for tomorrow night, but take it easy. No use hurting a lot of people because of something that happened a long time ago. Including your own mother.”

  “Don’t worry,” Koma said—and I worried. “I’ll try to behave—so long as nobody pushes me. Or condescends. Sometimes people from the mainland bring their own hang-ups over here and start throwing them around. Maybe it’s time to tell my own girl about this. Though right now she doesn’t think much of haoles, so it may be a shock. I’ll have to overcome that—I have to work on it in myself, my mother says. You’ll meet her tomorrow night, Caroline. Elika’s hula is omaikai loa. That means outstanding, in case you don’t remember. Now what about this ex-husband—what’s he doing here?”

  Koma made me thoroughly uncomfortable, and meant to. “I didn’t invite him, and he’s going to stay an ex-husband. I expect my grandmother persuaded him to come with her.” I glanced toward a window and got up, eager to escape an atmosphere that had become much too charged—because of Koma. “I’ll have to go. It’s nearly sunset, and I don’t want to ride back in the dark. But I’ll help with any odd jobs you may have for me on this Kahoolawe project.”

  “No pay—strictly volunteer,” Koma said. “Aloha.”

  David came outside with me and gave me a foot up into the saddle.

  “I’m glad Scott’s going to stay an ex,” he said. “You’ve had a pull toward San Francisco ever since you came—I could feel your uncertainty. Are you sure now?”

  “I’m sure. I’ve been confused and uncertain about a lot of things. I hope I can find my direction now.”

  “That’s good. Tomorrow night will be over soon, so don’t let Koma worry you. I’ll talk to him.”

  “It’s not just Koma I’m worried about. Or anyway, he’s the least of it. I don’t know what may be boiling under the surface in my mother after what we started today. Marla’s still trying to push her back into her Linny state. And I’m not sure anymore what Grandma Joanna wants. I have the feeling that in some way she’s been trapped all these years—caught in something she couldn’t escape.”

  “We’ll see it through,” David said. “Hurry home now.”

  I turned Pom-Pom toward the road. There was a lot more I wanted to open up with David, but Koma’s presence had changed that. There would be another time.

  A sunset of amethyst and crimson had slashed the sky, and I rode into flaming color feeling strangely calm. If happiness could ever be calm! David had said we would see it through, and for this bright moment that was enough.

  17

  I let Pom-Pom amble along toward home. She was ready to go faster than I wanted, but I held her back. What waited for me at Manaolana wouldn’t be pleasant, and I could do nothing more than mark time until tomorrow night was over. The whole idea of this “entertainment” left me increasingly uneasy.

  Hedges and trees made the road dusky as the sun dropped out of sight and the quick twilight of the tropics began. Now my uneasiness connected itself with the night around me, and the sense of the mountain at my back. There were no cars, and houses were set well off the road in this stretch, so Pom-Pom and I were alone. At least being in a saddle gave me a little more control, and the ability to get quickly away if it was necessary. But that was foolish—away from what?

  When a shadow moved on ahead by the side of the road, I checked the mare. Even on a horse I didn’t want to meet someone inimical to me here in the vanishing light. The shadow stood still as well—perhaps only waiting for me to pass.

  “Who’s there?” I called.

  The figure stepped out on the road. “Caroline? Is that you?”

  It was Grandmother Elizabeth. Relieved, I got out of the saddle to drop down beside her. “Is anything wrong?”

  “Nearly everything. Walk back with me, Caroline.”

  I led Pom-Pom as we walked toward Manaolana.
r />   “I needed to talk with you alone,” she said, and was silent.

  I could never remember Elizabeth hesitating about anything she wanted to say, but she seemed uncertain now. I waited, and after we’d gone a short distance she went on.

  “As soon as Scott and I were on the plane, I began to wonder if I was doing the right thing in coming here. I felt I had to see you and make sure how you felt. But there are too many memories of Keith here. Perhaps it was the only thing to do, but I came for the wrong reason.”

  “You mean to bring me home?”

  “Yes. I can see now that you belong here. Perhaps you never really belonged in San Francisco, though I tried to fit you into a pattern that I thought was sound. I failed. Nevertheless, I’ve missed you, Caroline.”

  I’d never expected her to admit such a thing—or even to feel it—but before I could say anything she went on.

  “Oh, don’t think I’m going sentimental at my age. I’m not Joanna, who’s always ready to drip with emotion. I’ve just wanted to do the right thing for you, Caroline.”

  The “right thing,” I was afraid, would always be her thing. “Joanna has deep feelings and she expresses them—or used to. But she’s far from sentimental.” I realized that Grandmother Elizabeth would regard love as cheap sentiment. Though who had loved my father more? “I suppose you had to do what you thought was right,” I added, keeping my tone even.

  “What else can any of us do? When we’re wrong we only find out when it’s too late. Not that I believe I was wrong. No matter what you think now, you couldn’t have grown up happily in Maui. Nothing would have been as it was before. There’s too much wrong in Joanna’s house. It’s still wrong. I don’t mean just because of your poor mother. They’re all still haunted by Keith’s murder. Perhaps that’s the real reason why I came. Because I wanted to settle that question once and for all.”

  She stumbled over a stone in the grass, and Pom-Pom shied toward the road. I quieted the mare and took my grandmother’s arm, aware of how thin she was, so that I felt the sharp bone of her elbow in my hand.

  As quietly as I could, I told her more about what little I had learned today. Noelle had blurted out some of it. “This afternoon a friend of David’s flew Noelle and David and me into the crater. Frank Wilkie is the man who brought them out of the crater after what happened. Noelle walked with us to the place where the horses fell. For a few minutes she really began to remember. She remembered that my father was angry and tried to attack her. He tried to ride her down, and she thought he was going to force her over the cliff.”