Belonging to Heaven, page 23
Chapter 34
Honolulu, Oahu
June 22, 1869
Shove to!” the voice of the dockhand shouted, and Hattie Napela and Kamuela Parker scrambled out of the way of the rumbling pushcart. It was loaded with metal pipes and fittings, and the worker seemed more concerned with getting the goods to their destination than with the people he might crush along his way.
“So much chaos!” Kamuela said loudly to be heard over the noise of the dock. He shifted the package he was carrying as he maneuvered his way through the crowd.
Hattie took his arm and guided him out of the mainstream of turmoil. She called out to a man pushing a wheelbarrow of fish down the way. “Excuse me, sir!” she called in English. The man glanced in her direction. “Excuse me!” He stopped. “Could you please tell us where the Murray is docked?”
“Hey?”
“The sailing ship—the DC Murray. Do you know where she’s docked?”
He pointed. “There a way. Jos kep walken’. Yall come to ’er.” He moved off.
Hattie gave Kamuela a blank look. “Did you understand a thing he said?”
The two laughed, and Kamuela mimicked. “Jos kep walken’. He pointed. “There a way.”
They walked in the direction the man had pointed, and soon Hattie saw her father. He had his back to them, and seemed to be supervising some men who were hoisting several large barrels onto the deck of the ship.
Hattie dodged around several people and a baggage trolley. She raced to her father’s side calling out, “Makua kane!”
Jonathan started at the sound of his daughter’s voice and turned to greet her. “Aloha nui, my Panana!” he said, gathering her into his arms. “Aloha nui.”
She slipped a lei of green leaves around his neck. “I brought you a maile lei for remembrance. Please do not forget me, Makua kane.”
“How could I forget a piece of my heart?” Jonathan looked about. “But did you come by yourself? How did you get here?”
Hattie chuckled. “You know very well I did not come by myself. I told you that Kamuela Parker was bringing me to see you off. He has a carriage and horses from his Honolulu estate.”
Jonathan looked around. “Well, where is he? He should not leave you alone in this type of crowd.”
Just at these words, Kamuela came to Hattie’s side. “You are right, sir. I’m sorry.”
“Oh piffle,” Hattie said. “Was it his fault that I ran off like a wild boar with Pele’s fire on my tail?”
Jonathan laughed and held out his hand to the young Mr. Parker. “She is a bit difficult to keep in line.”
Kamuela adjusted the package and took the proffered hand. “Actually, I find her charming.”
Jonathan saw a blush rise into his daughter’s cheeks, but she straightened her back and attended to her duty. “Father, this is my friend, Mr. Kamuela Parker. Kamuela, this is my dear father, Jonathan Hawaii Napela.”
“I am very pleased to meet you, Mr. Parker,” Jonathan said.
“And I am honored to meet you,” Kamuela answered with a brush of reverence in his tone. “I have heard much about you and the splendid work being done at the Mormon colony.”
“Really?”
“Yes. My Uncle John has heard that the king and queen are very impressed by the number of children you have at Laie.”
“Oh, yes?”
“Yes, they worry for the diminishing population of their people due to disease and the dwindling number of births.” Jonathan saw Hattie raise her eyebrows and roll her eyes. He coughed to hide a chuckle as Kamuela continued. “And that the Mormon colony seems to be the only place where there are many births and many young children.”
“Interesting.”
“Yes. And my Uncle John says he is also impressed by the way you run the sugar plantation.”
Hattie broke in. “Kamuela.”
Kamuela blinked and looked over at her. “Oh. Oh . . . am I talking too much?”
Hattie and Jonathan said yes and no at the same time.
Jonathan chuckled. “No, Mr. Parker. You are not talking too much. I appreciate the fact that you and your uncle have a favorable impression of our little colony at Laie.”
“Yes, sir, we do. My Uncle John thinks it’s admirable that you do not make your workers sign binding contracts like the other sugar plantations do. Is that true?”
Jonathan smiled. “At Laie, we are all brothers and sisters in the gospel, Mr. Parker. We try very hard to treat each other with respect. We wish to make none of the men working at the plantation bond-slaves. We contract with them by the month. They are free at the end of the month to leave if they wish to do so.”
“Does that work well?”
“It seems to,” Jonathan answered with a grin. “And does your operation on the Big Island work well, Mr. Parker?”
Kamuela gave him a half grin. “I am just learning the ways of the ranch,” he said unassumingly. “I will return there in a few weeks for the summer. My uncle is a good teacher, Mr. Napela. I only hope to be as wise as he is someday.”
Jonathan was impressed with Kamuela’s openness, but before he could ask another question, President Nebeker came to his side. “Hello, Miss Napela!” he said brightly in English to Hattie. “Are you here to see your father off to America?”
“Yes, President. And I have brought you a gift for your departure.” She stepped forward and placed a maile lei around President Nebeker’s neck.
“Well, how very kind. Thank you.” He turned to Jonathan. “The captain says we’re departing soon. The last of the sugar is being loaded, and the tide is turning, so listen for the call. You wouldn’t want to miss the boat to America.” Belatedly he noticed the young man standing close to Hattie. “And who is this fine fellow?”
“This is my friend, Kamuela Parker. Kamuela, this is President Nebeker. He is the mission president at Laie.”
They shook hands.
“I’m glad to meet you, President Nebeker. I hope you have a safe journey to San Francisco.”
“Thank you, son.” He clapped Jonathan on the shoulder. “We need to be on board in about fifteen minutes, my friend.” He tipped his hat to Hattie. “Always a pleasure to see you, Miss Napela. Keep that singing voice of yours in good tune, will you? I would love a song or two when we return.”
“Of course, President.”
“See you on board, Brother Napela.” He turned and walked to the ship’s gangplank.
Kamuela stepped to Jonathan and held out the package. “A gift for your friend, George Cannon. It is not much, just a set of calabash cups. I thought it might remind him of the islands.”
“How thoughtful, Mr. Parker. Thank you.”
Kamuela turned to Hattie and placed his hand on her elbow. “I will leave you and your father to say your alohas.”
Hattie looked anxious. “But . . .”
“I will be just over there watching the final preparations.” He reached out his hand to Jonathan. “Have a good trip, Mr. Napela. I am very happy to have finally met you.”
“I feel the same, Mr. Parker. Take good care of my Panana while I am away, will you?”
Kamuela looked awed by this assignment. “I . . . I will do my best, sir.”
After he was gone, there was a moment of silence. Finally Hattie looked up into her father’s face. “You will be gone many months.”
“Yes.”
She straightened the collar of his suit coat. “Now, do not worry about your English. You know enough words to understand most conversations.”
“Yes.”
She took a deep breath and lightened her tone. “It will be good for you to meet President Young. You have waited a long time.” Jonathan smiled at her attempt at cheerfulness, but emotion kept him from speaking, and Hattie continued. “It will also be good for you to see all your missionary friends.” He nodded. “And I know you will make many new friends in Utah.”
“Thank you, Panana.” He looked to the ship and back to her face. “I wish you were going with me. I would love us to see America together.”
She sighed. “Perhaps another time.” She reached quickly into the pocket of her dress and brought out a letter. “Oh! Will you give this to Mikanele Cannon for me, along with my aloha?”
Jonathan took the letter. “Of course. He will love to have this.”
Hattie shifted from one foot to the other, and Jonathan looked over at the ship, and then out to the ocean. Finally Hattie spoke.
“This summer while I am in Laie, I will be sure and watch over the sugar plantation for you.”
Jonathan chuckled. “Good. Good. It will keep you busy and out of trouble.”
“I never get into trouble.” Jonathan raised his eyebrows. “Besides, Mother will be there part of the time to keep her eye on me.”
His visage grew tender at the mention of Kitty’s name. “And while she’s at the big house in Wailuku, perhaps you can go and visit the Winston Family in Kaneohe. Their old dog likes you.”
“That is a good idea!” Hattie looked over at Kamuela who was talking with a young deck hand. “It was nice of Kamuela to bring the gift, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, it was.” Jonathan smiled at his daughter. “It was a mature thing to do for one his age.”
“He will be sixteen tomorrow,” Hattie said, with deference.
Jonathan grinned. “Is that so?”
“Yes, and don’t tease me just because I know his birth date.”
“I would not think to tease you, Little Guide.” He tugged at one of her long curls. “In fact, I think Kamuela is a good man.”
“He seems to think the same of you.”
A whistle sounded, and a call came from the boatswain that all passengers should board. Hattie flew into her father’s arms.
Her voice was ragged with sudden tears. “I hope you have smooth seas and a fair wind, Makua kane.”
“Thank you, Panana.” He stepped back and lifted her chin. “Do not worry about me. All will be well.”
She nodded bravely, but tears washed her cheeks. “Will you write to me?”
“Of course. I will tell you all about my adventures.”
The boatswain blew the whistle again and the final stragglers began moving toward the gangplank and onto the ship. Jonathan gave his daughter one last hug and stepped back. “The months will go by quickly, Panana.”
“To me they will ride on the turtle’s back.”
Kamuela came quietly to stand by Hattie. “Ho ‘i hou i ka iwi kuamo‘o.” Return to the homeland.
Jonathan nodded and then gave Hattie a crooked smile. “I hope my stomach is better on the large water than poor Brother Cannon’s.”
Hattie laughed. Through her tears, she laughed. That bit of gaiety undid the tie of reluctance and gave Jonathan the release he needed. He turned and walked onto the ship.
***
The crossing had been difficult. Three weeks of capricious winds, fierce squalls, and rolling water had tested the doggedness of the most seaworthy individual. Jonathan had fared better than most, but as he stood now on the San Francisco dock, he was struggling to keep his balance. He knew he was on solid ground, but the land seemed to sway under his feet.
President Nebeker approached, and Jonathan stood straighter. “Are you getting your land legs, Brother Napela?”
Jonathan frowned. “Land legs?” After a moment’s reflection, he smiled. “Ah! Land legs! I am getting my land legs slowly.”
“Not to worry, it takes a while.”
Jonathan looked at the President’s gaunt face. “You were very sick on the voyage. Are you better now?”
“With my feet on terra firma, I am a new man.”
Jonathan did not know the meaning of terra firma, but he didn’t have the energy to ask. He took a deep breath. “So, what work is there to be done, President?”
“Load your trunk in the wagon, and then help supervise the dock hands loading the sugar and molasses. Do you feel up to that?”
“Yes, of course.”
President Nebeker nodded. “I have to get the paperwork done at customs. We will send the goods today to Sacramento, and they’ll hold them in the warehouse until we get there on Monday.”
“Will we stay in San Francisco for many days?”
Brother Nebeker gave him an understanding look. “Only three. Now, I know you’re anxious to get to Salt Lake, Brother Napela, but I am in need of a few days’ rest. Besides, I must wash some things, get mending done, and find a new shirt or two.”
Jonathan grinned. “I need socks, and a bath.”
Brother Nebeker laughed. “Well, there you go!” He picked up his satchel and headed for the customs house. He turned back. “Do not worry, Brother Napela, Salt Lake isn’t going anywhere. I’ll meet you back here in an hour.”
Jonathan steadied himself on his feet and walked to the wagon. He deposited his trunk, and then went to where the men were offloading the sugar crates and molasses barrels. Jonathan hoped he would not have to do much directing, as his English was mediocre at best. As he neared the site, he was pleased to see that the men were capable and their foreman exact in his discipline.
As the men worked, Jonathan surveyed the portion of San Francisco he could see from his position. He remembered the thrill he felt upon catching sight of the coastline after weeks on a rough sea. A cold, grey fog had obscured the shore midmorning, but as the mist began to rise, Jonathan found that the ship had moved into a large harbor. Steep hillsides rose from the ocean’s edge, most covered by buildings and a bit of foliage. Many of the structures seemed hastily and poorly built—ready at any moment to slide from their tenuous foundations. He knew that the great gold rush of 1849 had brought thousands of prospectors to California from around the world, and it seemed the city of San Francisco was thrown up overnight to accommodate them.
Jonathan could tell that several of the men offloading goods were Asian—most likely Chinese men who had come to work for the prospectors and to provide cleaning and cooking services. When the gold claims began to give out, many of the foreigners, especially the Chinese, signed up to work on building the Transcontinental Railroad. That amazing feat had only been accomplished two months prior, and Jonathan felt honored to be one of the rail line’s first customers. It would be his first time on a train, and he could not wait to write Hattie about the experience.
Jonathan saw President Nebeker returning at a brisk pace. He wore a broad smile, and Jonathan surmised that the man’s good humor came from well completed business, coupled with the fact that he was glad to be off the torturous ocean. The President stopped to deliver some papers and instructions to the foreman, who nodded with understanding and turned back to his work. President Nebeker then came to Jonathan.
“Everything is taken care of, Brother Napela! We can be on our way to the hotel.” He thumped Jonathan on the shoulder. “Ah, bath and bed! It will feel remarkable to sleep in a bed that does not sway.”
Jonathan’s stomach grumbled. “Perhaps we could eat something, and then bath and bed?”
President Nebeker laughed. “Of course! What was I thinking? Food first!”
As Jonathan followed the president from the dock, he wondered what food they would eat, what the hotel room would look like, and how his retiring nature would blend with the more gregarious American temperaments he would meet along the way. He told himself not to worry. “Nana ka maka; ho‘olohe ka pepeiao; pa‘a ka waha.” Observe with the eyes; listen with the ears; shut the mouth. Yes, he would learn much and tell his adventures to his dear ones. In fact, perhaps it would be: food, bath, letter, bed.
Note
The Transcontinental Railroad is considered the greatest technological feat of the nineteenth century. The Union Pacific workers laid 1,087 miles of track beginning at Omaha, Nebraska. The Central Pacific workers laid 690 miles of track beginning at Sacramento, California. The two teams met at Promontory, Utah, on May 10, 1869.
Chapter 35
Truckee, California
July 19, 1869
My dear Panana,
I know that I have already sent you two letters from San Francisco and one from Sacramento, but I must tell you about the train and the train ride over the Sierra Mountains. We have stopped overnight in a small town called Truckee, and they have postal service, so this letter should not be delayed in getting to you, even though it must travel through rough and desolate country. It is hot and dry, but it is also beautiful. The mountains are high and they do not have broad-leafed trees like the kukui or the ulu. The trees here are mostly pine, and, instead of leaves, they have green needles. They are not needles like we use for sewing, but that is what people call them, because they are narrow and long. Here is a little drawing of a pine tree.
Hattie, I know you have seen pictures of trains, but to actually ride inside one is thrilling and frightening. The metal engine of the steam train has a huge smokestack that billows white steam. There are metal wheels that go on metal tracks. The sound is clack clack clack as the train moves along. The engine pulls a line of cars—some are for people, some for animals, and others for baggage and cargo. From Sacramento to Truckee our train had to pull up steep mountainsides mile after mile. At times it seemed we were hardly moving. We went through tunnels and over wooden trestles that hung over deep gorges. How could anyone build such a thing? It is remarkable to me. And the American people finished it only four years after their great Civil War. That says something for their strength and determination. Some people do not like the change that the train will bring, but things always change, my dear Panana. One must treat change with careful respect, for it can bring destruction or improvement.
This railroad stretches almost all the way across the country, and it has only been operating for a few months. I feel very lucky to be one of the first passengers. It will take us four or five days to get to northern Utah, where it would have taken weeks. Perhaps someday there will be trains in Hawaii and we can take a ride together.
There was a young boy on the train who asked me if I was an Indian. I told him that I was not an Indian, but that I was Hawaiian. Then I told him I was the son of a chief, and he gave me such a confused look. The poor little fellow could not figure it out.
