Sister of the Sun

by Coleman, Clare;

  It was different this time, warmer, like the taste of ripe fruit just plucked from a sunny bough. The tip of his tongue darted between her lips, but she did not pull back from that strange sensation. Her breath quickened. She put her hands around behind him and playfully slipped them up under his shirt.

  Now she could feel the surprising smoothness of his back, and the quiet strength of the muscles beneath the skin. She leaned into him, wishing only to be closer, but there was an obstacle....

  Pulling her mouth away, she stood back and began to laugh. "Too many clothes," she said, tugging his shirt upward. Obligingly, he tugged it over his head and tossed it aside. "You need tattoos," she told him as she stretched her fingers over the swirling hairs on his chest. "But these will do for now." The curls grew more densely in the center, thickening at his belly, arrowing downward. And below?

  She stopped asking herself questions as Kiore began pressing his lips to her cheek, to her shoulders, to the tops of her breasts. His gentle hands made her shiver with delight. Each place he touched felt warmer, until she was aglow from the soft skin of her cheeks all the way to her belly. His hand was at her sash, undoing the fastening about her skirt, when a noise came that made her cry out in surprise.

  She turned toward the shore and saw a bush quaking, though there was no wind. Furiously she raced toward the disturbance while clutching her loosened garment to keep it from falling. A knot of children erupted from the shadows. "I will feed you to the eels!" she shouted after them as they ran squealing down the beach. "Bait for eels, all of you."

  Kiore's face and neck had reddened all over. He retrieved his own garment and pulled it back on while she retied her wrap. "Many children," he said with a shake of his head. "They tell about us."

  "Nothing has happened,'' she said again, as if she could deny the feelings that still clung to her. The glow had spread downward, to her vulnerable place, and outward to her fingertips as well. What she wanted now was to run to him, to feel the pleasure of his touch and the strength of his embrace. But she did not go.

  How will I control these strangers if one is my lover? she asked herself. She closed her eyes for a moment, recalling the plans she had made. Tahiti seemed so far off now; she could no longer convince herself that she would ever return there.

  "We must leave this grove," she said sadly, "and stand where everyone can see us." She began to walk back along the shore and he came with her, carrying his foot coverings, his bare feet scuffing the sand. She glanced at his sober face and wished she did not have to say the rest.

  "Do not think me cruel, Kiore, but I have been thinking about your friend Nika. I do not wish him to stay with you any longer. He will only cause you trouble."

  "Take Nika away?" He flung the foreign sandals to the ground and glared at her.

  "For a time. It will be better if Paruru takes him to live somewhere else."

  "Not better!" He stood with his legs spread wide apart and his hands on his hips.

  "I am sorry, Kiore. Later, when you two know our customs better, you can be together again."

  He refused to listen. She glanced at his petulant mouth and saw the child in him again, this time a stubborn child.

  She had not wanted to provoke a quarrel, and now she saw no way to undo the hurt she had caused. Perhaps Kiore would choose to leave her now rather than bear the separation from his friend. But if the two sailors remained together, she felt certain that they would soon be forced to leave her atoll.

  Tepua felt a stinging in her eyes as she turned away and headed back alone. Behind her, she heard Kiore angrily pitching chunks of coral into the lagoon.

  TWELVE

  Paruru took Nika to visit Piho Clan, with hope that the sailor might find life agreeable on another islet. His sister Heka welcomed them both eagerly, arranged a feast, invited all the prominent people of the clan.

  While fires were heating the oven stones, Paruru and Nika sat with the warrior's uncles and brothers in the shade above the beach. Nika had recently told a fine tale of a sea battle. Paruru urged him to repeat it in this distinguished company. He wished everyone to hear how well the outsider spoke.

  "It is better," said the sailor, "if I make little boats." He took a brown bit of palm leaf and folded it into the crude shape of a boat, then pressed it into the sand. He enlisted the aid of the other men in making more, some from dried leaves and some from fresh.

  "These brown ones are of our enemy," Nika said, placing the "boats" in formation. "They are heavy and slow. The green ones are of my land. Light and quick." He spoke of the weapons aboard, which flung stones a great distance. He explained how the vessels had to maneuver to point the huge weapons at their targets.

  Paruru watched the looks of amazement on his kinsmen's faces as Nika revealed the foreign methods of battle. Finally Nika reached the part where burning ships were sent at night to set fire to the enemy fleet. To demonstrate, the sailor made a crude palm leaf torch, igniting it at a nearby cook fire. With the torch, he set alight one brown vessel after another.

  "Aue!'' cried Crabs-sleeping.' "That is a quick way to get rid of them."

  "But those craft ride high out of the water," argued an uncle. "With so many masts and so much rigging, they catch fire too easily." He turned to Nika. "It is good that your enemy did not use our kind of war canoe!"

  Nika laughed and said this might be so. The men kept raising new points over the tactics he had described, sometimes arguing heatedly among themselves. By the time servers brought the meal, Paruru was satisfied that his sailor had made a strong impression.

  The next day, the kaito-nui found Heka with a group of women, seated on mats in a grove of coconut palms. When he asked to speak with her in private, she sent the women away. "Everyone is glad to see you again," she said pleasantly, brushing back long hair that glistened beneath a braided headdress of vines and lavender morning glory. "And I hear that Nika has found many friends."

  "I am happy to be your guest, sister. And so is Nika. He is with Crabs-sleeping now, searching for the black-lipped oysters."

  "I heard that he is fond of pearl shells," she replied thoughtfully. "And we have the best. Is that what you wish to talk about?"

  Paruru did not answer directly, but began praising Nika's skills. "He is talented at working wood. The foreign tool does wonders in his hands. I would like to see him learn to build canoes."

  Heka looked skeptical. "I thought that Tepua gave all the tools to Faka-ora for safekeeping."

  "Yes. But a knife and chopper came ashore separately from the rest. Tepua put these in my charge."

  "I did not know that, brother. You must be careful. Remember how Cone-shell cut himself."

  "Nika knows how to use these tools. You should see how fast he can work with them."

  "Perhaps Nika can cut faster than our men," she answered, "but skill is not enough. He must speak the proper chants at every stage or the work will fail."

  "He will learn the chants."

  "Perhaps he will." She paused, then spoke in a chiding tone. "Paruru, is this all you came to talk about? Should I call the master canoe-builder and offer him a new pupil?"

  "There is more, sister." He realized that he must reach his point quickly as she was already losing her good humor. "I have thought long about Nika. Listen carefully before you answer. He has no real home on this atoll and I wish to give him one. I wish to have him adopted into Piho Clan—as my brother."

  "Aue!"

  "Do you find it so strange?"

  "I know that you and he are good friends. But think what you ask!"

  "I have good reasons, sister."

  "Yes, I can see one. Half the treasures from the foreign vaka are his. Eventually Tepua must release those things. If Nika is part of our family, then the treasures will be ours as well."

  Paruru felt his anger rising. He cared nothing for cloth and colored beads. The one foreign thing he wanted he already had, and Nika was the one who would teach him how to use it. "There is a more important re
ason," he insisted. "People are starting to question Tepua's wisdom in keeping these outsiders with us. And the sailors are growing restless. If Nika causes trouble, there will be more talk against her."

  "So you think you can help Tepua by bringing Nika to us?"

  "I cannot have him near me and watch him constantly. My duties for the high chief keep me too busy. But if Nika stays here, he can become part of our family. He will learn the proper ways to do everything. My brothers and nephews will teach him."

  "I have heard them talking about your sailor."

  "He has made himself welcome."

  Heka looked at Paruru sharply. "Many of our men will support you. They will say that the sailor can bring renown to our family. But we must not forget the risk—that the outsider can also bring disgrace."

  "Have I asked too much?"

  Heka paused. "If this were for your sake alone, I would not take the chance. But I, too, wish to support Tepua. It will help her if this man joins our family and makes himself useful."

  "Then you agree!"

  Heka folded her hands. "I will speak to the elders in favor of your proposal. I may have to remind them about that strong foreign cloth!"

  "Then I will wait for your answer." He stared at his sister a moment, wondering which of his arguments had been most persuasive. Surely she had not guessed the fate of the thunder-club. She could not know that the weapon meant as much to him as regaining Tepua's esteem.

  Nika stayed on for several days, enjoying feasts, entertainment, and fishing expeditions. He amassed a collection of fine shells and a few small pearls.

  Also, Nika had a chance to look over the young women of Piho Clan. At Paruru's urging they visited the sailor, encouraging his interest with shy, yet flirtatious glances. Following Paruru's instructions, however, they did not linger.

  It was on the third morning of his guest's stay that Paruru decided to bring up the question of adoption. By now the elders had consented to Heka's request. Only Nika's agreement was needed.

  Paruru found the foreigner sitting in the shade with his pile of treasures, tossing away those shells that had even tiny defects. Good pearl shells were prized here, of course, but they did not consume anyone's interest. And pearls, so difficult to pierce, were rarely used in adornment.

  Nika had astonished him by saying that these things could make him wealthy when he returned home. Indeed, it seemed that the wealth of distant Piritania was not measured in mats and coconut trees, or even in pigs and cloth. Nika prized riches of another sort, of which he could only display a small handful—disks of bright foreign stone, carved with strange designs.

  Seeing him absorbed in his work, the warrior approached and squatted on his heels. "I am glad," Paruru said, "that you find so much to please you here."

  Nika smiled and looked up from his shells. "This is a good island. Better than the other."

  "Would you like to stay?" asked Paruru.

  Nika's eyes searched Paruru's. "What are you offering?"

  "I want to help you find a place for yourself—as part of a family. Then you can remain here as long as you like."

  "Right here?" He gestured toward the house where he was staying.

  Paruru raised his eyebrows in assent. "And my family is among the best. We hold good lands and fishing sites and many coconut trees. We have excellent nets and swift canoes. All of these will be yours to share."

  The sailor grinned. "I think I understand."

  "I am offering you a high honor," Paruru said. "I have watched you, and I believe that you are worthy. I would like you for my brother."

  A wary look crossed the sailor's face. "Tell me how it is done—the joining of brothers."

  "By a short ceremony. You will see."

  "And after that, the girls ..."

  "Will no longer treat you as a stranger."

  "That is what I am waiting for. Too many girls are running off. I think they are a little bit afraid."

  "It will be different when you are my brother. But remember this. My cousin is your cousin, and cousins are tapu."

  Nika grimaced. "Rules and more rules. How many cousins do you have?" When Paruru gave no reply, Nika did not press him. Instead, the sailor asked, "Will you send a message to Maukiri? Tell her I am not coming back soon."

  "I will," Paruru answered. "Now come, and meet a few more of your new family."

  On the day of the adoption ceremony, the weather was clear with a mild breeze. Wearing feathers and ferns in his hair, Paruru went to the marae to join his elderly father, his sister Heka, and other relatives. Since Nika had no kin here, he walked apart, accompanied only by a woman called Karipea who had been borrowed from Varoa Clan for the occasion. She was to serve the role of Nika's "mother" and was already devoting herself enthusiastically to the part, much to Nika's evident distress. Paruru wondered if Heka had indulged her capricious sense of humor by selecting Karipea.

  He could see that the sailor's discomfort was worsened by the plaited cape and loincloth that he wore. Nika had complained the night before that mat garments itched, but Paruru had insisted that he give up his foreign clothing for the ceremony. Now the sailor was constantly scratching, undeterred by scolding and slaps from Karipea.

  Outside the low coral-block walls of the maraz, a priest met the party. Several men brought an enormous rolled mat of plaited fara, spreading it on the ground while the priest handed out leaves of pukatea. Paruru took his seat at the mat's center. Prompted by Karipea, Nika joined him, sitting in the proper place on his left.

  "Stop scratching," Paruru hissed.

  "If you let me wear my shirt ..." Nika began, but Paruru silenced him with a sharp motion of the hand. The ceremony had begun. It must not be profaned by idle talk or argument.

  Paruru watched as his relatives, led by Heka, gathered at one end of the mat. On the other end sat Karipea, as Nika's representative. It bothered Paruru to see the two sides so unbalanced, but there was no way to produce Nika's true family.

  Shark-tooth flails appeared in the hands of Paruru's kin. Heka was the first to strike her forehead with the shark's tooth, causing blood to trickle onto her face. Others followed her example, with impassioned prayers and outcries to the gods that the heritage of two families would be well mingled.

  Across the mat, Karipea replied in kind. Perhaps, thought Paruru, Nika's family was fairly represented after all, for the loudness of Karipea's outbursts and the amount of blood she shed make up for the lack in numbers.

  Nika seemed to pale at the sight of crimson running down so many foreheads. What was wrong with the man? Paruru wondered. Had he never seen an adoption or a marriage before?

  Paruru's elderly father stepped forward, carrying the juice of a young coconut leaf in a shell. He poured the libation onto a leaf of sacred pukatea, set the leaf briefly on Paruru's head and then on Nika's.

  Now that the leaf's contents were imbued with the spirits of both men, it was brought before the other celebrants. The priest chanted prayers while the token was sealed by drips of red. At last the leaf was carried by the priest into the marae, to rest on a sacred stone.

  Heka took her place beside the priest and chanted, "This man we take as a brother. I give to him the name that Paruru bore as a youth. His name is now Kero, and he shall be known as a member of this family and of Piho Clan." She paused. "And in turn he gives a name to Paruru. The name is Tama, one that is old and honored among his people." With a wave of her arms, she bade both men to stand.

  "Paruru-tama, here is your brother, Nika-kero. Nika-kero, here is your brother, Paruru-tama. Each one shall chant the genealogy of his family so that it may be known to the other."

  Paruru was first. The names flowed easily from his tongue, for he had learned them as a child and repeated them to himself every night before sleeping. This was essential knowledge, the sole means to prove one's claim to land or fishing rights.

  "Here is my descent,'' he began."The god Atea fathered the god Tu-makino who fathered the great god Tangaroa. Tangar
oa fathered Tapai'aha ..." Paruru continued, watching his audience as they listened attentively. He glanced at Nika, whose uncomprehending stare reminded him that his venerated forebears were but a jumble of names to this man.

  That would soon change. As a member of the family, Nika would be expected to become as fluent in genealogical recitation as anyone in the clan.

  The warrior finished his narration, "... who fathered a son, Paruru." He turned toward Nika, noting how unsettled the foreigner appeared as he prepared to take his turn. On the previous evening, Nika had been inconsistent in his repetitions, Paruru had been forced to drill him so that he would not embarrass himself by making a mistake in public.

  With a nervous glance at the priest, the sailor began. "The first man of my tribe was Atama and he took Eva to wife. Their firstborn was...uh...Kaina, and he had Noha ..."

  Paruru listened critically. He wondered if anyone would notice that Noha, whoever he was, had not been mentioned in the earlier versions. It worried him that Nika's memory was so poor. Paruru did not wish to consider the possibility that all these names had been fabricated.

  Suddenly the recitation was over, and Heka was speaking. "Nika-kero, enter your place of judgment and take your stand among us," she said.

  Cautiously Nika stepped forward. Heka embraced the sailor and pressed her face to his. Paruru, remembering the strength of his sister's arms, hoped that Nika would not gasp aloud under the onslaught. But he proved himself a man in that respect, stifling any outcry and only staggering a little as Heka released him. Then, one by one, the rest of the family greeted their new kinsman.

  It is done, thought Paruru. May it please the gods.

  The next few days passed quietly, and Paruru decided that he could soon return to Tepua's service. On a sunlit morning he went looking for his new brother to tell him his plans. Crabs-sleeping had said that Nika was hunting octopus just offshore.

  The tide was out and the lagoon had drawn down, exposing dark patches of reef. Women were busy gathering clams in the shallows. Paruru saw no sign of Nika as he walked along the beach.