Hawaii - James Michener [183]
"He talked the fat lady into it!" another cried.
"Let's hang the little bastard!" a voice called, and cheers greeted the suggestion.
No immediate action was taken, but someone in the crowd started throwing rocks at the grass house, and occasionally one would ricochet into the room and fall harmlessly to the floor. "Let's burn his damned house down!" a voice screamed.
"We'll teach him to meddle in our affairs!"
"Come out here, you damned little worm!" a harsh voice called.
"Come out! Come out!" the crowd roared, but Abner kept huddled on the floor, protecting Jerusha and the two babies with his body lest the increasing storm of rocks find them.
The long night progressed with its vile insults, but toward morning the crowd dispersed, and as soon as the sun rose, Aimer hurried to consult with Kelolo. "It was a bad night," the big alii said.
"I think tonight will be worse," Abner predicted.
"Should we discard the laws?" Kelolo asked.
"Never!" Abner snapped.
"I think we had better ask Malama," the tall chief suggested, but when they found her, townspeople were already there, bombarding her with their fears, and it was then that Abner realized what a tremendous woman she was. "Malama has spoken," she said sternly. "The words are law. I want you to assemble all the ships' captains in this room within an hour. Get them!"
When the Americans appeared, rough, rugged, good-looking veterans of the whaling grounds, she announced in English, "The law, me I gib you. More better you t'ink so, too."
"Ma'am," one of the captains interrupted. "We been comin' to Lahaina for a dozen years. We always had a good time here and behaved ourselves pretty well. I can't say what's goin' to happen now."
"I can say!" Malama cried in Hawaiian. "You are going to obey the laws."
"Our men got to have women," the captain protested.
"Do you riot in the streets of Boston?" Malama demanded.
"For women? Yes," the captain replied.
"And the police stop you, is that not right?" Malama pressed.
The captain wagged his forefinger and threatened, "Ma'am, no police on this pitiful island better try to stop my men."
"Our police will stop you!" Malama warned. Then she changed her tone and pleaded with the captains: "We are a small country, trying to grow up in the modern world. We have got to change our ways. It is not right that our girls should swim out to the ships. You know that. You have got to help us."
"Ma'am," one of the captains growled stubbornly, "there's gonna be trouble."
"Then there will be trouble," Malama said softly and sent the captains away.
Kelolo wanted to back down. Keoki was afraid there would be serious rioting, and Noelani counseled caution, but Malama was obdurate. She sent messengers to summon all the biggest men from the outward areas. She went in person to the new fort to see if its gates were strong, and she told Kelolo, "Tonight you must be ready to fight. The captains are right. There is going to be trouble."
But when her people had gone about their tasks, and when they could not spy upon her, she summoned Abner and asked him directly, "Are we doing the right thing?"
"You are," he assured her.
"And there will be trouble tonight?"
"Very bad trouble, I am afraid," he admitted.
"Then how can we be doing the right thing?" she pressed.
He told her of a dozen incidents in the Old Testament wherein men faced great adversaries in defense of God's way, and when he was through he asked her in a low voice, "Malama, do you not know in your heart that the laws you read were good?"
"They are part of my heart," she replied cryptically.
"Then they will prevail," Abner assured her.
Malama wanted to believe, but the cowardice of her other advisers had infected her, so now she towered above Abner, stared down at him and said, "Little mikanele," using the Hawaiian pronunciation of missionary, "tell me the truth. Are we doing the right thing?"
Abner closed his eyes, raised his head toward the grass roof, and cried in the voice that Ezekiel must have used when addressing the Jewish elders: "The islands of Hawaii will live