by Bodie Thoene
“I’ve been in exile far too long,” she said to Hannah.
Sea birds cried and circled overhead. A wave of exultation swept through Kaiulani as the great propellers churned and the shores of England receded into the mist.
Long after Theo and his wife retreated to their stateroom, Kaiulani and Hannah stood together at the rail.
After a long silence Hannah spoke. “The good hand of the Lord is with you now.”
Kaiulani inhaled deeply, taking in the fresh sea air. “I’m certain of it.” The wind and rush of water seemed like a song. “Hannah, we’ve been together a long time. No one ever had a friend like you.”
“My life is yours. You know that.” Hannah smiled gently. “We were little girls together. Who could imagine…we’ve traveled so far from the banyan tree at Ainahau.”
“I wonder what we’ll find when we come home?”
Behind them the steward rang the dinner bell. The movement of the great ship took Kaiulani back to the first time she met Andrew, so many years before.
The many-decks-tall SS Teutonic was nothing like the old Umatilla. There was nothing remotely resembling a cargo ship about this opulent liner. Theo had taken his charges down to the shipyard at Liverpool to watch her launch just a few years before. Hannah and Kaiulani’s first-class cabin was distinctively appointed in bird’s-eye maple.
Shipboard entertainment featured paid musicians and actors. There was no place for amateur theatricals now. The recollection made Kaiulani smile. Despite the antagonism between the “three little maids from school” and the egotistical Scotsman, it had been a simpler, gentler time to be alive.
Back then all Kaiulani’s future had been bright and hopeful.
Now she wondered who she would be if her mission to America was not successful. What use had the world for a woman who had been trained to be a queen, if her throne no longer existed?
* * * *
Even before Teutonic docked in New York, Kaiulani prepared herself to be bombarded at the gangway by questions from the press.
“You look pale,” Hannah said.
Kaiulani’s fingers trembled, but her voice was steady. “Speaking for our people is my duty—my reason to live. God help me remember how angry I am at what they are trying to do to Hawaii Nei, and I’ll forget my fear.”
The princess dressed the part of a dignified royal heir: gray traveling gown over which she wore a dark jacket. Her hair was swept up and knotted at the back of her head, on top of which she wore a restrained formal hat. Hannah followed immediately behind her, then Theo Davies and servants.
The journalists began shouting their queries even before the princess reached the dock:
“How do you feel about the loss of your kingdom?”
“Do the Hawaiian people support the new government?”
“What do you hope to accomplish by going to Washington?”
“Is it true the Provisional Government wants the U.S. to annex Hawaii?”
“Won’t that make you an American citizen?”
Kaiulani focused her clear brown eyes on the tallest member of the press corps. Leveling her gaze midway between the ridiculous, too small bowler hat he wore, and the cigar clamped between his teeth, the princess delivered her prepared statement:
“Unbidden I stand on your shores today where I thought to receive a royal welcome. I hear that commissioners from my land are asking this great nation to take away my little vineyard…they would leave me without a home or a name or a nation…”
Prince Koa met her at the dock. He gathered her into a carriage with Hannah, while leaving Theo and the others to follow in another conveyance.
Koa looked nervous. “You know the queen sent me to Washington.”
“I know,” Kaiulani replied. “I’m just here to help any way I can.”
“Yes, well,” Koa continued, “are you sure…that is, some people think—”
“Just say it, Koa. What are you fumbling about?”
“There’s a rumor you will cut a deal with Thurston to make yourself queen, with him to run the government.”
Hannah almost leapt across the carriage at Koa’s throat. “How dare you? How can you even think such a thing?”
Holding up protesting and defensive hands, Koa said quickly: “Not me! I don’t think it. It’s just, you know, reports.”
“Rumors!” Hannah shot scornfully.
“Probably planted by Thurston’s men to drive a wedge between us—between me and the queen,” Kaiulani ventured.
Koa wiped his forehead with a white handkerchief. “Glad that’s settled.”
Passing east across Manhattan, they heard a newsboy shouting: “Read all about it: Hawaiian princess says grandsons of missionaries trying to steal her kingdom. Says missionaries sent faith and freedom to Hawaii, but now their descendents seek to undo their fathers’ work. Read all about it.”
“That was brilliant planning by Mister Davies—cabling your speech ahead so it could be printed the same day you arrived,” Koa complimented.
“That was Kaiulani’s doing,” Hannah corrected. “She thought of it herself.”
At the Brevoort House Kaiulani was treated as visiting royalty. The hotel manager personally escorted her entourage to the suite of rooms, already overflowing with bouquets of flowers from well-wishers. “And may I congratulate you on a wonderful speech, Your Highness,” offered the manager. In his cutaway coat and tails he looked like an official dignitary himself. “Particularly when you said”—the manager consulted a newspaper account—“ ‘Who will stand up for the rights of my people? But I am strong in the faith of God and in the knowledge that seventy million Americans in this free land will hear my cry and not let their flag be used to dishonor mine.’ Splendid! Well said, Your Highness.”
As he bowed his way out of her rooms, the hotel official remarked, “Beside the cards, there is a telegram that was delivered with that bouquet of red roses. It’s just there, beneath the vase.”
Hannah seized the yellow envelope and opened it, then passed it to Kaiulani. Be very careful, it read. You are courageous, but there are those who will stop at nothing to prevent your success.
It was signed, Andrew.
Chapter Twenty
Rotund, jolly, and forthright, President Grover Cleveland projected an image of good fellowship. There was heartiness and trustworthiness with his stout frame, broad face, and long, rumpled frock coat. He reminded Kaiulani of two people she had known: the London preacher, Gipsy Smith, and an elderly kahuna who lived in Lahaina on the island of Maui. The princess did not mention either comparison to the president.
Cleveland’s elegant and stylish wife, nearly three decades his junior, went out of her way to make Kaiulani and Hannah feel welcome. Seating them in the Blue Room in high-backed chairs upholstered in blue and gold roses, Mrs. Cleveland poured their tea herself.
“My dears,” she said, “I want you to be perfectly comfortable. I confess I was so intimidated when I first came here to this mansion, but now I feel quite at home and we want our guests to feel the same, don’t we, Big Jumbo?”
“Yes, my dear,” Cleveland replied. His voice was much higher in pitch than Kaiulani expected from a man whose weight exceeded a quarter of a ton.
The invitation to visit the Executive Mansion was extended as a social courtesy because Kaiulani’s status was not official. Nevertheless, she took heart just to be meeting the American president and dressed accordingly. From the purple ostrich plumes atop her brand-new hat to the long-sleeved, fitted bodice and pleated skirt of her flowing day dress, Kaiulani looked every inch a princess. “Thurston’s minions want to convince the Americans we are not fit to govern ourselves,” she had told Hannah. “I want to convince Mister Cleveland otherwise.”
The Blue Room’s oval ceiling was plastered with a pattern of interlocking blue and lavender circles. From its center hung an enormous gas-lit chandelier with scores of globes. Above the fireplace was a massive gilt-and-blue framed mirror, and the doors were ou
tlined in hangings of heavy navy fabric. In sum, it was the most elegant chamber Kaiulani had ever seen and she told Mrs. Cleveland so.
“Thank you, Your Highness,” Frances Cleveland replied. “You know, Grover and I were married in this very room.”
Kaiulani felt her heart lift at the First Lady’s words. By using Kaiulani’s title, was Mrs. Cleveland signaling it was not yet official policy to acknowledge the end of the monarchy? She glanced at Hannah, whose triumphant look could only mean she’d sensed the same hopeful sign.
In a far corner of the room was a gilt birdcage suspended from a tall stand. In it was a mockingbird that whistled and called in a dozen bird languages. “Your family enjoys pets?” Hannah inquired politely.
Mrs. Cleveland smiled. “Our baby, Ruth, likes to pull our poodle’s ears, so we don’t let her near the bird!”
“If you would permit,” Kaiulani offered, “when I reach home, I would love to send you a myna bird. They are very cunning creatures and also can mimic sounds they hear.”
“Splendid,” the president agreed. “Capital idea.” Then he added, “My dear, I read with great interest your statements in the papers. I especially liked your appeal to the American people. We have many things in common, you and I. There are many in this Congress who disapprove of me and my ideals, but I rely on the good sense and fair play of the people to vindicate me.
“While I cannot officially give you any assurance today, I thought you might like to know privately that I am withdrawing the treaty of annexation from consideration. What’s more, I shall be sending a commission of inquiry to your homeland to investigate the circumstances surrounding the change of government. I wish I could do more.” Lines of sorrow creased the brow of this jovial giant.
Kaiulani’s hopes, so lifted by her reception by the President, plummeted again. Presidents, the same as monarchs, could not always accomplish what they knew to be right.
* * * *
The next morning, back in their hotel room, Theo Davies brought Kaiulani a copy of a Washington paper. Through his Secretary of State, President Cleveland had issued a statement regarding the Hawaiian situation:
I am utterly opposed to the annexation of Hawaii. It would pervert the mission of America. It would lower our national standard to endorse a selfish and dishonorable scheme to acquire the Islands by force and violence.
“Well done, Princess,” Theo Davies praised.
Kaiulani shrugged in self-deprecation. “I didn’t really speak with him about politics. He came to his own conclusions.”
“You showed him what a liar Thurston is,” Hannah corrected.
“You served your people as only you could have done,” Theo said. “And they will not forget.”
“But the president made no promises,” Kaiulani reminded them. “It’s a statement of his personal support; nothing more.”
* * * *
1973
Sandi’s shopping cart blocked the aisle as she stared, too long, at a rack filled with potato chips. A young, brown-skinned woman with a toddler in her cart cleared her throat to pull Sandi back to reality.
“Excuse me?” the woman said, maneuvering around Sandi.
“Oh, sorry! Sorry.” Sandi grabbed a jumbo bag of Fritos and tossed them into her cart.
She stared at the huge, expensive sack of greasy corn chips that could serve fifty beer-drinking football fans at a tailgate party. Why Fritos? She really wanted locally made Maui Chips, like the kind Archie served to his tourists on the Royal Flush.
“What am I doing here?” Sandi shook her head.
Behind her, Archie’s amused voice interrupted her reverie. “Okay. So now I’m curious. What are you doing here?”
She looked up, startled to see him. His cart was filled with sodas and carrot sticks, ranch dressing, and a dozen bags of Maui Chips.
At the sight of his face, it hit her like a ton of bricks. She was falling in love with Archie.
“I was looking for those,” she replied moodily.
“I got them all.” He tossed a sack into her cart. “Want more?”
“No, thanks.” She replaced the Fritos in the rack and did not look at Archie.
“I was going to say, if you want more, you’ll have to sail away with me.”
“Oh, I…no. Can’t.”
He threw another cellophane bag into her cart. “A bribe.”
She shook her head. She imagined his lips close to hers. A moonlight sail and swimming in the warm sea. “I’ve got a bunch of work to do.”
He cocked his head slightly, as though he saw through her excuse. “I might be able to fill in some details. Family history and all that.”
Sandi twisted her wedding ring on her finger. “Andrew—I mean, Archie!— I’m…I’m married, remember?”
Her words were like a slap. “Whoa.”
“This is really difficult for me, but…my husband…five years is a long time, but I still can’t—”
Archie scowled at her. “I’m talkin’ a couple bags of Maui Chips here, not—”
“It isn’t you. I know it’s not you. It’s just that I really, really like you. I haven’t let myself like any man, see? Not for many years. I forgot what it felt like to—”
An old man reaching for bean dip stepped between them.
Archie waited until the shopper rounded the corner. He swallowed hard. “I get it,” he said somberly. “And if I’m really being honest with myself, and with you, I guess I’m feeling the same way. Beautiful.”
“Dangerous.”
“Sandi.”
“Please, Archie. Not now.”
“Safeway is a weird place for this, but here we are. I want you to know—I have thought about you a lot.”
“Oh, you mustn’t!”
“But I have. And I do. And I probably will. So, I’ll just tell you: I’ll stand down. No confusion. You need to be sure. He deserves that.”
“Thanks.” She did not look into his face. “My love lives in the past. To survive, I’ve got to stay focused on the present. I have no future to offer anyone.”
All verbs being conjugated, Sandi pushed on, paid for two bags of Maui Chips, then drove to Airport Beach, where she had a good cry.
Chapter Twenty-one
Republic of Hawaii, 1897
Kaiulani slipped out, and the cabin door clicked shut behind her. Hannah’s sleepy voice called after her. The thrumming of the ship’s engines was like a great heartbeat in the night, or the distant rhythm of Hawaiian drums.
Wrapped in a blanket, Hannah padded after Kaiulani. The deck was empty beneath the starswept skies. Kaiulani braced herself in the railing at the bow, like the figurehead of an old whaling ship. Salt spray stung her cheeks, awakening memories of home, true home, and beloved faces almost forgotten. Kaiulani inhaled deeply. Familiar aromas of her homeland filled her senses. The triangle of islands, Lanai and Molokai and Maui, loomed up from the sea as the ship steamed through the channel on its way to port in Oahu.
“Do you smell it?” Kaiulani asked as Hannah joined her.
“Wood smoke?” Hannah’s voice was almost inaudible. “Look. Signal fires on the beach.”
Distinct light beamed from the Lahaina lighthouse, sending letters and words in dots and dashes as the ship passed. Was Andrew standing on the beach watching for her return? Did he see the glimmer of the passing ship and know she thought of him? A rush of longing swept over her. “Aloha nui loa, dearest Andrew,” she whispered.
New bonfires sprang to life on the hilltops of other islands.
Had the captain signaled the return of Hawaii’s Hope? Was the name of Princess Kaiulani a beacon awakening her people from their long sleep?
The two women did not speak for a long time as the vessel cut through placid seas.
At last Kaiulani said, “You know me so well, Hannah. I have no friend like you.”
“And you know my heart maybe better than I know myself,” Hannah answered.
“You were God’s gift to me after Mama died. You kep
t my soul from flying away with grief.”
“You are my friend. My sister.”
“I was thinking tonight, as I smelled the fragrance of our islands so close, about when I saw your face, your smile, through the branches of the banyan tree.”
Hannah hummed. “As little girls, our loss was so much alike I couldn’t tell your sorrow from mine. Our mothers, both gone to heaven. We were left together to taste delicious secrets with our tea.”