Hawaii - James Michener [312]
A truly motley crew lined up in bathrobes and slips: a Spaniard from Valparaiso with no high combs in her hair; an Italian girl from Naples who had shipped into Honolulu on a whaler; an Irish girl from Dublin who knew Captain Hoxworth and who gave him a kiss--young Whip liked her and she smiled at him; two Chinese girls and one Javanese, who seemed forbidding and aloof. "Who's the youngest girl here?" Captain Hoxworth asked.
"This China girl," the curator of masterpieces replied.
"Can she speak English?"
"No. She don't have to."
"Today she have to," Hoxworth replied. "You go out and find me the youngest girl you can, but she's got to speak English. I want her to explain things to my boy here." When the proprietor left to scurry about among the sinks of Iwilei, the Chinese and Javanese girls retired, but the others who could speak English gathered about the captain and his charge, admiring the young man.
"How old is he?" the pleasant Irish girl asked.
"Thirteen," Hoxworth replied, putting his virile arm about the questioner. "And at thirteen it's high time a man gets to know what delicious things women are. How old were you, Noreen, when you discovered the fun in men?"
"I was thirteen," the happy Irish girl replied.
"And you, Constanza?"
"I was twelve, in back of the cathedral in Naples."
"I was fourteen myself," Hoxworth apologized. "And it happened in your home city, Raquella, and that's why I've always treasured Valparaiso. I had shipped on a whaler . . . well, you wouldn't be interested, but I spied on the sailors to see where they were going with such determination, and I marched in after them and said, "Me, too!" And everybody roared with laughter as I plunked down my shillings, but thereafter they treated me with more respect. And, Whip, they'll treat you with more respect, too. Not because they'll know you were here. That's got to be kept a secret. But because you'll know something the others don't know. And this knowledge is what makes some men men, while the lack of it keeps other men boys ... all their lives. I'm afraid that your uncles and your father are boys. Goddamnit, I want you to be a man."
The brothel keeper returned with a Chinese girl of uncertain age, but she seemed younger than the rest. She wore a black silk smock covering white pajama pants. She was barefooted and had her hair in a long braid, so that she looked completely alien to the boy who was intended to be her guest. He looked at her with frank curiosity, and when she saw this confused yet eager face, she smiled
and took a step toward him. "I like to show him things," she said.
Young Whip was momentarily afraid, and although he did not draw back, neither did he step valiantly forward, so his grandfather benignly put his left arm about the little Chinese girl and his right about his grandson. "Remember what I said about ships sailing into strange ports? Anybody can be brave enough to love a girl of his own color, but to be a man, Whip, you've got to stare right into the eyes of the brown girls and yellow and whatever you meet up with, and say, 'You're a woman and you're mine.' Because what a man's got to discover is that there's no gain in loving a particular woman. It's the idea of woman that you're after. Now you be real sweet with this pretty little Chinese girl. Because she can teach you the first steps in this grand discovery."
Giving the curious pair his benediction, he pushed them gently toward the darkened hallway that led to the private rooms, and as they disappeared, hand in hand, he grabbed the Irish girl and cried, "Goddamn, Noreen, it's exciting! Imagine! The first time!" The Chinese girl led Whip to a stall and showed him the furnishings. "Pretty, you think?"
"It's real nice," he stammered, holding tighter to her warm hand.
She pushed him away from her, turned to face him and said, "It's possible have much fun with a woman. You see?" And