Hawaii - James Michener [39]
"I understand," she said, sinking back into the canoe.
"It is you I will take north," Teroro promised her.
As the canoe neared shore, Mato cried, "What a storm! We went all the way to Havaiki."
Of all the listeners, only Marama knew the full significance of this statement: that some great revenge had been carried out. Swiftly she counted the canoe and saw that the young chief Tami had been lost. "Where is Tami?" she called.
"He was lost reefing sail in the storm," Pa lied.
A man called, "Why did you go all the way to Havaiki?"
Pa answered, "Teroro went to fetch the girl he will take north with him."
From the bottom of the hull, where she had lain hidden, Tehani slowly rose, and it was in this way, with the west wind of the storm beating in her face, that Marama learned she would not be accompanying Teroro to the north. No sound escaped her lips. She stood in the wind with both hands pressed against her sides, her hair whipping about her shoulders, her great placid face, handsome as a moon is on the thirteenth night, staring at the stranger in the canoe.
She thought: "A man is dead. Some dreadful event has occurred that will contaminate the islands for years. Brave stupid men like my husband have gained their revenge, for what it matters. And a young stranger takes my place in the canoe." Patiently she studied the newcomer and thought: "She is beautiful and her body is well formed. Perhaps she can have children. Perhaps it's better." But then she looked at Teroro, and her heart broke.
Hiding her tears she turned to go home, but her degradation was not completed, for her husband called, "Marama!" She returned to the canoe and he said, "Take Tehani home," and Marama reached down and took the girl's hand and led her home.
In its second night the storm rose to an intensity that quite precluded any departure on the day planned, and as the winds howled, those responsible for the voyage had a few last hours free for dreaming. The visions of Teroro were agitated, and toward dawn he saw two women standing by West Wind, and the canoe had no mast on which to hang its sail. He awoke in fright, shook his head vigorously, and realized that the two women were merely Marama and Tehani and their standing by the canoe signified only that each wanted to go north with him, so he wakened Marama, explaining, "The king will allow only one woman to go, Marama, and he insisted that I take a younger."
"I understand," she said dully.
"It isn't that I've grown tired of you," he whispered.
"Tupuna explained," she replied.
"You understand how it is? he pleaded.
"I understand that I have given you no children."
"You've been a good wife, Marama, but the king ..."
He fell asleep, but before the birds had wakened, he dreamed again and saw his canoe with no mast, and this time the two women spoke, Marama in a deep voice crying, "I am Tane!" and Tehani singing in a lilting voice, "I am Ta'aroa!"
Teroro woke trembling and cried, "Why should the gods speak to me on such a night?" And for a long time he tried to decipher the dream, for he knew that before a voyage each dream meant something, but he could not find the key. So he rose in the gray light of dawn, while winds howled and drove rain across the island, and hurried, almost naked, to the hut of old Tupuna.
"What did such a dream mean?" he pleaded.
"Did the voices sound like those of gods?" the bearded old man queried.
"No, they were women's voices, and yet Tane's was deep as it should be, and Ta'aroa's was high and piercing like his voice in a storm."
The old priest sat gathering his wisdom and listened to the roaring wind that must take them on their way. Finally he announced: "It is very clear, Teroro. Tane and Ta'aroa speak most forcefully when they speak in the wind. You must obey them."
"What do they want me to do?"
"There was no mast in your dream canoe, and no sail?"
"None."
"Then it's simple. The gods wish you to take down your