Hawaii - James Michener [230]
The tall, gracious young woman listened attentively to these contrite words and for herself was inclined to accept them, for she had never taken the kahunas seriously, but when she thought of her dead brother her resolve was hardened, and she replied with bitterness, "If you had shown Keoki half the charity you now show me he would not be dead." And it was coldly apparent that she would never return to the church ... at least not to Abner Hale's church.
ONE DAY in early 1833, after John Whipple had recovered from his exhaustion due to the pestilence, he was accosted by a sailor who asked, "You Doc Whipple?"
"I am," John said.
"I was directed to hand you this personally," the sailor explained.
"Where are you from?" the doctor asked.
"Carthaginian. We're in Honolulu."
Eagerly, yet with apprehension, Whipple opened the letter, which said simply:
"Dear Dr. Whipple. You have good sense. Can you get Abner and Jerusha Hale out of Lahaina for a week? I intend to build them a house. Your trusted friend, Rafer Hoxworth."
"Tell your captain yes," Whipple said.
"When can we arrive?" the sailor inquired.
"Next Monday."
"He will be here."
So Whipple fabricated an intricate plot, whereby Abner was called to what the missionaries called "a protracted meeting" at Wailuku, where long ago he had tended Urania Hewlett at her death. To Abner's surprise, the Whipples said, "Amanda and I need a rest. We will join you, for holiday."
"The children?" Jerusha asked, frightened, for she had never left them during a single night since Micah's birth.
"Mrs. Janders'll care for the children," John insisted, and although both Abner and Jerusha thought it perilous to risk their offspring to a woman who allowed Hawaiians to nurse her babies, they at last consented, and the four who had known one another so well aboard the Thetis began their pleasant hike to Wailuku, but when they reached the summit pass that divided the two halves of the island, John Whipple stopped and stared sadly back at the additional valleys that had been depopulated by the measles and said, "Abner, somehow we've got to get a virile new people into these islands. Because if dying Hawaiians were able to marry strong newcomers . . ."
“Whom could you get?" Abner asked, mopping his forehead.
"I used to think other Polynesians would do," Whipple replied.
"But recently I've changed my mind. It'll have to be Javanese. A totally new bloodstream." As he paused he idly compared the parched leeward areas he had just left with the green windward area they were approaching. "Curious," he mused.
"What is?" Abner asked.
"I was looking at the two halves of this island," Whipple replied. "The rain falls over here, where it isn't needed, but it never falls on our side, where the big fields lie barren, Abner!" he cried with positive delight. "Why couldn't a man bring the useless rain over to where it's needed?"
"Do you seek to correct God's handiwork?" Abner snorted.
"In such matters, yes," John replied.
"How could you bring rain through a mountain?" Abner challenged.
"I don't know," Whipple mused, but he kept staring at the contrast between rainy windward and parched leeward.
They were not long on their journey before the Carthaginian hove into Lahaina Roads and Captain Rafer Hoxworth strode ashore. One-eyed Kelolo and a band of able policemen met the fiery whaler at the pier and leveled six guns at his chest. "Dis place kapu for you, kapena! We no aloha for you, you damn hell!" the old alii warned, in his best pidgin.
Hoxworth, brushing aside the guns, announced: "I come only to build a house."
"No girls on the ship!" Kelolo said sternly.
"I want no girls," Hoxworth assured him, striding briskly up to the mission house. To his following sailors he said, "Get every movable thing out of that house. And be careful!"
The removal took only a few minutes, and when Hoxworth saw how pitifully little the Hales had--their only substantial furniture being the chairs and tables