Hawaii - James Michener [146]
"I can write my name!" she exulted, but even as she did so, Abner's persuasive words plagued her, and abruptly she threw down the stick and went to where he lay sprawled on the tapa. Kneeling beside him, she studied his face for a long time, then said softly, "I think you speak the truth, Makua Hale. Wait, Makua Hale. When I have learned to write, then I will come to you." Then she ignored him and in her silky voice commanded Jerusha: "Now teach me to write."
The lesson continued for three hours, until Jerusha grew faint and would have stopped. "No!" Malama commanded. "I have not much time to waste. Teach me to write!"
"I am growing dizzy in the heat," Jerusha protested.
"Fan her!" Malama ordered, and when the young woman indicated that she must halt, Malama pleaded: "Hale Wahine, while we waste time, men who can read and write are stealing our islands. I cannot wait. Please."
"Malama," Jerusha said weakly, "I am going to have a baby."
When Keoki explained the meaning of these words to Malama the great Alii Nui underwent a transformation. Thrusting Abner from the large room, she ordered her servants to carry Jerusha to an area where more than fifty of the finest tapas had been piled to make a day bed. When the slim girl had been placed on the pile, Malama swiftly felt for her stomach and judged, "Not for many months," but without Keoki in the room she could not explain this conclusion to the white woman. She could see, however, that Jerusha was exhausted and she blamed herself for what had been a lack of consideration. Calling for water, she ordered Jerusha's white face bathed and then lifted her in her arms, a mere child against her own huge bulk. Rocking back and forth, she nursed the tired mission woman to sleep, then placed her once more gently on the tapas. Rising quietly she tiptoed to where Abner waited and asked in a whisper, "Can you also teach me to write?"
"Yes," Abner said.
"Teach me!" she commanded, and she kneeled beside the little New England missionary as he began logically, "To write my language requires twenty-six different letters, but you are fortunate, because to write your language requires only thirteen."
"Tell him to teach me the twenty-six!" she commanded Keoki. "But to write Hawaiian you need only thirteen," Abner explained. "Teach me the twenty-six" she said softly. "It is to your country-men that I wish to write."
"A, B, C," Abner began, continuing with the lesson until he, too, felt faint.
WHEN THE TIME CAME for the Thetis to depart, almost the entire population of Lahaina appeared to bid the ship farewell and the foreshore was dark with naked bronzed bodies following each movement of the department missionaries. At last the twenty who would go to other locations assembled at the small stone pier to sing their sweet blend of mournfulness and hope, "Blest be the tie that binds," and as their dedicated voices rose in unison, the watching Hawaiians could detect not only an inviting melody but a spirit of the new god of whom Abner Hale and their own Keoki Kanakoa had already begun to preach. When the hymn spoke of tears, the eyes obliged, and soon the vast congregation, led by the missionaries, was weeping.
In one respect the sorrow was not formal but real. When Abner and Jerusha watched John Whipple prepare to sail they could not mask their apprehension, for he was the only doctor in the islands, and with him absent, Jerusha knew that when her term of pregnancy was ended, the success of her childbirth would depend upon how well her youthful husband had mastered his book lessons. Whipple, sensing this concern, promised, "Sister Jerusha, I shall do everything possible to return to Maui to help you. But remember that on the other end of the island Brother Abraham and Sister Urania will be living, and since her time does not coincide with yours, perhaps you shall