The Island (Part 1) - Discovery

The unexpected discovery of an artifact from the past brings back old memories and stirs up new tensions on a Hawaiian island... 

(Photo: via minimodelshop.co.uk)

The Island

Part 1

Discovery

“Aloha, tutu!”

“Aloha granddaughter.” The old man smiled and looked up. What was the little rascal up to this time? He put down the coconut fibre yarn he was braiding into rope and eyed her closely. She was naked apart from a small grass skirt, her wild hair loose around her head. She clutched an object in each hand.

“What have got there?”

“Sugar cane!” she brandished the short length of cane triumphantly to show him, then put it in her mouth and sucked.

“I see that.” He pursed his lips. “Your grandmother should think more about your teeth. What’s that in your other hand?”

“I don’t know. I found it in the dirt behind the house when I was digging.”

The object looked familiar, yet he couldn’t place it. He raised an eyebrow. “Show me.” She held it out for him. He turned it over in his hands, remembering the feel of it, the lightness and flexibility of the material. He sighed. It was all so long ago.

“What is it tutu?”

“It’s a toy car, mo’opuna. From when I was a little boy.”

“What is a car, tutu?” she wrinkled up her nose at the strange word.          

“It’s like cart with a horse, but it didn’t need the horse. It had a machine inside which made power. Like your mother’s spinning wheel or the pedal power machines in the workshop, except that they didn’t need people for energy either.”

“What did they use then?” She took another suck on the sugar cane but her eyes were riveted on the car.

“They burned the blood of the earth, child, the blood of the earth.” He looked off into the distance at the waves breaking on the beach. It was another world, one he barely knew, and then only from his grandfather’s stories. “Did you feel the material. It’s plastic. Made from the earth’s blood too, and fire.”  

The girl’s mouth formed an ‘O’ of wonder. She inserted the cane for a moment then extracted it. “Is it like stone? It doesn’t rot like wood under the ground.”

The old man nodded. “You are smart, kolohe. You’re right, it doesn’t rot like wood or fibre. It lasts a long time, but it’s lighter than stone and in the old days they made it into all sorts of shapes.”

She pouted. “I’m not a rascal. You’re the kolohe.” He smiled. She reminded him of her mother, and grandmother for that matter. She snatched the car from his hand and skipped away grinning. He grabbed after her with one hand but missed. He settled his weight back on the grass and reached for the yarn to begin braiding again. He shook his head. The old plastic toy car. That stuff really did last a long time. The girl circled back warily, still grinning. “Tell me a story, tutu.”

He shook his head. “I just told you one about the toy car. How about you tell me one?”

She plopped down into his lap and leaned back against his round belly. “Ok.” She paused to suck on the sugar cane. “Once upon a time. There was a wise elder …”

The old man nodded, “Yes that’s right, a kupuna.”

“The kupuna went to the sea to think. One day the kupuna looked down the beach, and saw someone dancing. The kupuna wondered, ‘Who is dancing so happily?’ When he got closer the kupuna saw that the dancer was a child, who was not dancing at all. The child was picking up something from the sand and throwing it into the sea. The kupuna called out to the child, ‘Aloha! What are you doing?’”

“The child looked up and said, ‘I’m throwing starfish into the sea.’ The kupuna was surprised. ‘Why are you throwing starfish into the sea?’ The child smiled, pointed upward and said, ‘The sun is up, the tide is going out, if I don't throw them in they will die.’ ‘But don't you realize,’ asked the kupuna, ‘that there are miles and miles of beach and starfish all along it? You can't possibly make a difference!’ The child listened politely…”

“Something for you to remember, kolohe.” said the old man as he wrapped his arms around her.

“No.” She squirmed a little then continued. “Anyway. The child listened and then bent down, picked up another starfish, and threw it gently into the sea, just beyond the breaking waves, and said, ‘It made a difference for that one.’”

“Very good mo’opuna. One day you will tell great stories to your own grandchildren.” She gnawed on her piece of sugar cane and he gave a small laugh. “We owe our thanks to my great great grandfather for that sugar cane in our garden. When he was young he worked on the last plantation on Maui before they closed it down. He dug up some canes and brought them back to the island to plant in our garden. He should have brought a boat load of tooth brushes too for you to use.”

“No!” She wriggled out of his grip and stood up. “I’m going to look for starfish.”

He watched her go down the beach then looked back toward the house. His wife and their daughter-in-law Kalea were hard at work gathering food for the voyage’s farewell feast that evening. Both were bent over, the sunbrowned skin on their bare backs glowing in the afternoon light. One back was dark, the skin loose and wrinkled, like his own, the other firm and smooth. Holokai had said she was the most beautiful wahine on the island when he asked her to be his bride. Few would argue. The old man smiled to himself. He had said the same about his wife when they met. Her face and body had changed but she still had the look in her eye that had captured him then.

Then he frowned. Holokai was late. The fishing expedition should have been back two days ago. Suddenly the girl jumped up and down on the sand and shouted. “Tutu! Uncle is back! Uncle is back!” Several sails loomed above the waves, then the boats appeared, racing through the surf in the distance, behind the rocky outcrop at the end of the beach to the wooden jetty. The old man smiled and waved at her. Holokai was back just in time for the feast. It remained to be seen whether there would be anything to celebrate.

********

Read The Island - Part 2, Expedition here.

Constructive comments welcome  :-)

Click on the tabs above for more stories