Hawaii - James Michener [108]
"Not at all," he protested cheerily. "I'll help you."
"But I'm sure I can't stand," she protested.
"Now, Mrs. Hale . . ." And he forcibly brought her slim legs down onto the boxes and caught her in his arms when she proved unable to maintain her balance. "Some breakfast will strengthen you. Then we'll have service. You'll see the sun. And you'll be fine.'
In trying to get out of the little heaped-up stateroom she almost fainted, weakness and nausea combining to make her deathly ill, but again Abner helped her and maneuvered her through the canvas opening and on into the cramped and smelly cabin, where Keoki Kanakoa was spreading a breakfast consisting of cold suet beef, mashed beans and watery rice, left over from the night before. Jerusha closed her eyes when the sodden food was placed before her and kept them closed as Abner asked one of the older ministers to bless the day. Then Keoki prayed in Hawaiian, to familiarize the missionaries with the language, and the meal was begun.
Jerusha could manage a little hot tea and one bite of suet beef, but the clammy lard in the latter revolted her, and she rose to leave, but Abner's firm hand caught her wrist and she heard him saying, "A little longer, Mrs. Hale, and you'll conquer it." So she sat in agony as the cold lard slipped down into her stomach and nauseated her whole body.
"I'm going to be sick!” she whispered.
"No," he said insistently. "This is our first meal together. This is the Sabbath." And she fought her rising illness, with the smell of food and two dozen people crowding in upon her nostrils.
She was pale when the meal ended, and staggered toward her berth, but Abner refused to let her go, and with his strong hold on her arm, marched her up the stairs and onto the gently sloping deck, where a canvas had been hung to form a rude chapel. "Our first worship as a family," he announced proudly, but the entire family was not to participate, because one of the older ministers took one look at the slanting deck, rushed to the railing, relieved himself of his breakfast, and staggered white and gasping back to his berth. Abner stared at him as he left, interpreting the poor man's involuntary actions as a personal rejection of God. He was especially irritated because several of the sailors, who were idling the Sunday morning away by hanging on ropes to catch their first glimpse of the mission family, laughed openly as the distraught minister threw up his breakfast.
"There'll be more," one of the sailors predicted ominously, and his mates laughed.
Services were conducted by Abner, as the only one who was likely to be able to finish them, and the family, resting comfortably under canvas strung from the mainmast, sang as cheerfully as circumstances permitted, the fine old Sunday hymn of New England:
"Another six days' work is done,
Another Sabbath is begun;
Return, my soul, enjoy thy rest—
Improve the day thy God has blessed."
Abner then spoke at some length on various passages from Ephesians, chapter 3. " 'For this cause I bow my knees unto the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, Of whom the whole family in heaven and earth is named, . . . That Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith; that ye . . . might be filled with all the fullness of God.'" He pointed out that the family of love within which they lived was open to all who were willing to confess their sins and work toward a state of grace. He was obviously preaching to two audiences: his brother missionaries, to remind them of the family within which they operated; and the eavesdropping sailors, tempting them to join this family of Christ; but his message to the latter was somewhat destroyed when Jerusha, experiencing a dreadful wave of nausea, tried to stagger to the railing, failed, fell on her knees and vomited over the deck.
"Watch out, lady!" a sailor called derisively, but Cridland and Mason, the two young men