Belonging to Heaven, page 27
The wind and rain beat at his face, and Jonathan chanted louder. He prayed for understanding and strength. He would not question God’s will, but he knew he needed strength to endure the fiery furnace.
“Jonathan?”
A crack of thunder sounded, and Jonathan turned to look at Kitty as she shrank back into the hut. He held out his hand to her. “Come out with me.”
She hesitated. “Are you feeling well?”
“I am. The water dries my tears! The wind fills my lungs! The lightning helps me to see!”
He held out his hand to her again, and Kitty stepped out onto the lanai. A gust of wind blew her hair away from her face, and rain soaked her nightdress as she came to stand beside him.
“Why are you out here?” she called against the wind.
“I am fighting with the little gods of the land!” he called back. “The four hundred are trying to stand against me, and I am challenging them!” He put his arm around her waist. “Come! Challenge them with me!”
“I am not strong enough,” she said as the wind whipped her hair about.
“I will chant and you will dance,” he told her. “Your dancing will delight the four hundred and they will give you whatever you desire!”
“There is much I desire.”
“Then dance!”
Clear and strong, Jonathan began the chant of their ancestors, and Kitty danced. At first her dancing was unsure, but as the strength of her husband’s voice filled her body, her movements became powerful. The sway of her body told of the ocean waves in the fierce storm, her hands told of the strength and bravery of her people, her arms told of their longing.
The storm swirled about them, and their mana grew.
***
A desperate knocking came to the door of the hut, and Jonathan sat up quickly. No one ever comes to our hale, he thought in a panic. Kitty sat up at his side, a gasp strangling in her throat. Pale morning light came through the small windows, and Jonathan was glad for the thin pieces of cloth that blocked the view in. He motioned for Kitty to be still and stay behind the screen that separated the living area from the sleeping area. He struggled to calm his breathing as he went to the door. The knocking had continued, and now a voice added its urgency.
“Brother Napela! It’s President Nebeker!” Jonathan opened the door to the mission leader. He face was haggard and his body taut. He spoke immediately. “There is a man here from the board of health, and he’s brought two policemen and a doctor with him.”
Kitty rushed out. “No! Oh, no! No!”
Her hair was disheveled, and her look was that of a wild animal in a trap. President Nebeker stepped back at the sight of her, but Jonathan reached out and drew her close.
“Come in. Come in, President.” As soon as the man was inside the hale, Jonathan shut the door. “Where are these men?”
“At the mission office. They came late last night, but the storm kept them inside. The man from the board, a Mr. Bowen, says they’re here to check the entire settlement for signs of leprosy.” His eyes flicked to Kitty’s face and then back to Jonathan. “I . . . I wanted to tell you, dear friend.”
Jonathan nodded. “How long have you known?”
President Nebeker put his hand on Jonathan’s arm. “A while.”
“Yet you did not say anything.”
“The Lord did not prompt me to pursue the matter.”
Jonathan’s eyes filled with tears. “We are so grateful for this time we have had together.”
Kitty began pacing. “But, what are we going to do? What are we going to do now? I could run. We could run into the mountains.”
Jonathan’s shoulders sagged. “I will not have them hunting you like a common criminal. Some of these policemen shoot the sick ones who try to run away.” He rubbed his head as though trying to push a solution into his brain. “Maybe you could just not go down to be examined.”
Kitty hesitated. “But . . . but people know I’m here.”
“Perhaps the Church members will not say anything,” Jonathan encouraged.
President Nebeker drew a deep breath. “I’m afraid some of the Saints are not saints, Brother Napela.”
Kitty brushed tears from her cheeks. “And they are afraid.”
President Nebeker looked at her with pity. “Yes.”
She stood straighter and looked at her husband. “Tell me what I should do.”
The tears rolled down his cheeks. “I don’t know. I don’t know.” He took her into his arms. “President, if you will give us some time? We need to pray about this.”
“Of course, Brother Napela. Of course.” He moved to the door and opened it. The doorway framed a beautiful picture of dazzling green mountains and clear blue sky that made Jonathan’s heart ache. The president turned back to them. “You both have my love.” He left, leaving the door open.
***
As the sun climbed toward noon, the Saints of the Laie settlement watched as Jonathan Hawaii Napela, son of the chiefs of Maui, and his beautiful wife rode to the mission office on their horses. They came, like the others, to be examined for leprosy. But unlike the others who stood outside the makeshift medical building, they were dressed for travel and had secured small suitcases behind their saddles; these held the few earthly possessions they would take from their Laie home. They would leave the ancient city of refuge to obey the modern law of King Kamehameha V.
Jonathan and Kitty dismounted and walked to the building, past the gathering of silent friends—friends who did not step back, but forward, gently laying their hands on the arms and shoulders of the ali‘i couple.
Everyone knew that Kalawao was calling.
Charity
1873–1879
Charity
1873–1879
Chapter 42
Kalawao, Moloka‘i
April 26, 1873
Towering two thousand feet above the desolate Makanalua Peninsula, the ancient volcanic cliffs stood as barriers to hope for the lepers on the deck of the sailing ship, Warwick. Jonathan and Kitty Napela gripped the railing and stared at the flat hand of land that reached its lava fingers into the pounding surf. Waves hit the craggy shore, sending white sprays of water fifteen feet into the air.
“It’s too rough. The boats can’t go all the way in,” Jonathan overheard the first mate report. He turned his head sideways to take in the man’s countenance as he spoke to the captain, and saw neither pity nor concern on either face. Jonathan figured the ship and its crew had made the journey from Honolulu to Kalawao so many times since the first disposal of lepers in 1866 that a callous detachment had replaced their humanity.
Feeble sunlight was attempting to break through a bank of ash and pearl clouds, but a somber shadow encased the barren landscape. As the ship drew on toward the east side of the peninsula, the wayfarers saw a bit of grass and a few stunted trees on the sloping land that rose to the crest of the Kauhako crater. For some reason, that slight bit of nature eased the pain in Jonathan’s heart.
Kitty shivered as the ship hit into a wave, sending a cold spray over the rail to mock the miserable passengers. Jonathan put his arm around his wife as her numb fingers struggled to find purchase on the wet wood.
The captain came to stand beside them. “Mr. Napela, may I have a word?” Jonathan nodded, but the captain hesitated. “Alone?”
Reluctantly, Jonathan let go of Kitty’s waist, and she sat down on the deck. A young boy took up a place beside her, the symptoms of leprosy showing clearly in his swollen face covered by a smattering of pea-sized nodules. Kitty did not react to his presence with either repulsion or compassion but stared blankly at the inhospitable terrain. Jonathan turned his attention to the captain and moved with him away from the earshot of the dispirited passengers.
“Mr. Napela, the board of health has made you the assistant superintendent of the colony under Rudolph Meyer, correct?”
“Yes, sir. I will be the luna.”
“Then, it is my duty to inform you that the longboats will not be able to make it all the way to shore because of the conditions.”
Jonathan stared at him. “What does that mean?”
“We will take the patients as far as safety will allow and then lower them into the surf. They will need to swim the remainder of the way to the beach.”
Jonathan looked over to take in the waves pounding on the beach of smooth rocks. Panic seized him as he thought of the numbness in Kitty’s hands and legs, the inability of some to swim, and of the young ones without parents or family to assist them. His thoughts were torn back to the day before—the scene of desolation and fear on the dock in Honolulu. He closed his eyes to block the memory, but the images assaulted.
“Makua kane!”
Jonathan turned to see his dear Panana moving down the pier to meet him. Striding beside her was her husband, Kamuela, and in her arms was their darling baby, Eva Kalanikauleleaiwi. Panana’s face held the fierce determination of her warrior ancestors, but as she neared, tear tracks betrayed her resolve.
Jonathan walked away from the containment area where the leper patients were being held prior to boarding. He walked to health and life, taking Panana in his arms and breathing in the smell of her. “My guide has come to show me the way,” he whispered.
“I do not know the way through this, Makua kane. On the path there is only shadow.”
“Look higher, Little Guide. Look to where there is sunlight on Haleakala.” Fifteen-month-old Eva squawked from being held too tightly between the two, and Jonathan stepped back to stare at the child, an expression of wonder on his face. “I tried not to hope that I would see her.” He held out his hand to Kamuela. “Mahalo. Mahalo nui, for bringing them.”
Kamuela hesitated and then took his father-in-law’s hand. “You’re welcome.”
Hattie shifted Eva to her other hip. “Do you think anyone could have stopped me from coming?”
Kamuela nodded. “She is the Kona wind blowing up from Waimea.”
Jonathan smiled and reached out to gently drag a finger along Eva’s cheek.
“Would you like to hold her?” Hattie asked, holding the baby out to him.
Jonathan stiffened. “Well, I don’t know if—”
Hattie cut short his reluctance. “You are a kokua, Makua kane—a loving helper. You do not have the disease.” Jonathan still hesitated. “Well, do you?” Hattie pressed.
“No, I do not have the disease.”
“Then hold your granddaughter.” Eva’s legs kicked out into the air as she dangled in her mother’s hands. “Hurry, she is heavy!”
Jonathan took her. Eva stopped kicking and looked steadily into her grandfather’s face. “Is she going to cry?” Jonathan asked, a note of panic in his voice.
“No, she is not going to cry. But it’s better if you hold her close.” Hattie shook her head. “You would think you’d never held a baby before.”
Jonathan brought Eva into his arms. “Well, I haven’t had much practice for many years,” Jonathan answered, brushing the soft brown curls off Eva’s sweaty forehead.
Hattie put her arms around both of them. “Makua kane, I was wondering if you would give our daughter a blessing?”
Jonathan’s eyes flicked to Hattie’s face. “I will do what you want, but it must truly be your wish.”
“Yes. I want the comfort of your prayers.”
Jonathan nodded. “Let us step back from the crowd a little.” He moved off to the side of the group, and Hattie and Kamuela followed. They all stood close together, and Jonathan had to clear his voice several times before beginning. “Dear Lord, maker of the islands and the oceans, creator of the ginger flowers and the sunlight—I take this infant girl, Eva Kalanikauleleaiwi Parker, into my arms to give her a blessing under the power of the priesthood. I bless her with health and a kind heart. I bless her that she will be a joy to her mother and father—her brothers and sisters. I bless her that in her journey, she will find the peace of the Lord. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”
Hattie patted her father’s arm. “Mahalo. Mahalo, Makua kane.” She gave him a weak smile. “So you think there will be brothers and sisters for our little Eva?”
“I believe you and Kamuela will have a large and wonderful family, Panana.”
Tears gathered in Hattie’s eyes, and she turned quickly to move back into the crowd.
Kamuela stepped to Jonathan’s side. “She does not wish to show you her grief.”
“She has always tried to be the koa tree, when she is actually the pikake flower,” Jonathan said, turning to his son-in-law. “Please watch out for her while I am away.”
Kamuela nodded. “Ka malu halau loa o ke kukui.” I will shelter her like the kukui tree.
Jonathan looked at Eva, who looked right back at him. Her serious expression made him smile. “She is considering everything, isn’t she?”
“She is a thoughtful one,” Kamuela concurred.
At that moment Eva reached up to tug on Jonathan’s hat, nearly pulling it from his head. “Oh, my!” Jonathan yelped.
“And she is strong,” her father said proudly.
Jonathan secured his hat and kissed his granddaughter’s forehead. “I can see that.” She reached for his hat again. “And she is determined like her mother.”
“I think she wants the feather lei on your hat.”
“Then she shall have it,” Jonathan said, taking off his hat and allowing Kamuela to remove the lei. After returning his hat to his head, Jonathan took the lei, and slipped it over Eva’s head. Immediately the little hands stroked the soft feathers.
Father and grandfather smiled.
“He lei poina ‘ole ke keiki.” A lei never forgotten is the beloved child. Jonathan glanced again at his daughter, observing that she paid no attention to the hat incident, but stared fixedly at the containment area. He went to stand beside her. “What is it, Little Guide?”
“Where is she? Where is my mother? Why can’t I see her?”
“She sits at the back, out of sight.”
“I want to see her.”
The anguish in his daughter’s voice sent a spear of pain into Jonathan’s heart, and he had to grit his teeth to push down emotion. He handed Eva to Panana. “I will go and see if I can get her to come forward.”
Jonathan walked to the containment area without restriction. The guards from the board of health knew this man’s place as luna of the colony, and afforded him freedoms not offered to the other persons on the pier. As Jonathan neared the area separated off by a fence and wire caging, he noticed the eyes of a child peering just over the top of the fence slats. His small fingers were clinging to the mesh, and a forlorn mewling sound formed behind closed lips.
Jonathan knelt down to him. “What is it, son?”
The kind voice made the boy weep outwardly. “I’m going to the colony.”
“Yes, I know. I’m going with you.”
The boy looked at him. “You are?”
“Yes. I am being sent to take care of you.”
The boy took a shuddering breath. “I am scared.”
“Of course, but there are many who will look out for you.”
The boy nodded, and Jonathan patted the slender fingertips poking through the mesh. “Your name is Kepola, isn’t it?”
The boy looked surprised. “Yes. Kepola.”
“And how old are you?”
“Seven.”
Jonathan swallowed hard. “What else troubles you, Kepola?”
The boy pointed. “My mother and father are there. They are trying to talk to me, but they are far away. I cannot hear their words.”
Jonathan looked back to where Panana and the other families of the patients stood. He went to talk to one of the guards, and after some discussion, returned to address the group. “I have received permission for you to move closer to the confinement area.” Some people began to move forward immediately, and Jonathan stopped them with his voice. “Wait! Please wait, friends. You must abide by certain rules, or we cannot let you closer.” The people stopped and waited for Jonathan to tell them what to do. “You cannot go all the way to the confinement area. You must stop where the guard tells you. You must not reach out to try and touch the patients. If there is something you wish to give the patients, give it to me, and I will deliver it.” He paused. “Do you understand?” The people nodded. “All right. You may move forward to where the guards tell you to stop.”
Surprisingly, the people moved forward in an orderly manner, positioning themselves opposite their loved ones in the cage. Fifteen patients vied for a bit of space at the front, and Kepola had to struggle to keep his place. His parents were already talking to him.
“Be a good boy, and do what the luna tells you to do.” The boy nodded bravely, but Jonathan could tell that all he wanted to do was climb into his mother’s arms. “We will send you special things whenever we can.” She held out some string to Jonathan and he took it. “Here is some string for the game you like to play.” Jonathan put the gift into the boy’s hand and moved away. The cacophony of voices rose in pitch, and Jonathan looked over to Hattie. She was trying to find her mother, but was finding only unfamiliar faces. Jonathan went to the side of the cage and called out to Kitty to come forward. Kitty’s shadow, and then Kitty herself, moved ghostlike from the back recesses of the containment area. Hattie impulsively stepped forward, but the guard held his rifle in front of her.
“Only to here.”
Hattie nodded. When her mother lifted her eyes to find her, Hattie was shocked by the swollen appearance of her face. Her skin did not carry the marks that others wore, but still it was unsettling how much her mother’s face had changed since the last time they were together. Hattie pressed her lips together and lifted Eva higher on her hip. “Mother, this is our little Eva,” she called out. She looked over at Kamuela. “We have all come to see you and to give you our love.” Kitty was silent. “We are doing well at the ranch. There is always so much work. I have a garden, and there is company almost every week.” Hattie gave her father a desperate look, and he whispered to Kitty through the cage.
