The Ohana (12 page)

At first, he wrote letters to every single one of his siblings with the intention of selling the land and disbursing the money equally. Patrick would have expected him to be fair. But he rationalized it was a bad time to sell land. He foresaw better times and tremendous profits in the future. Hawaii was the new frontier, and being so small, land would be everything. He wrestled with his conscience. Patrick had been clever. He wanted Sean to vindicate himself of the callousness he had displayed toward his mother and siblings since moving to Hawaii.

Sean would have been a hero to his siblings if he sold the properties and divided the money. They would have venerated him at first but might have ended up despising him. But they would have spent it carelessly. They did not understand inherited money was a sacred trust to be treated with the utmost respect and put to use to make more money.

In the end, he gave in to avarice and vowed he would make ten times the original amount and then give his siblings their shares. Still, the selfishness of his deed haunted him as he wrote to his brothers and sisters and enclosed a small amount of money to each of them.

“It’s not a proper Irishman you be,” Uncle Patrick had chided before he left for law school. “Your ma and kin have hot Irish blood. It’s what makes us laugh, cry, and feel life. Sometimes I think a cold Englishman must have slipped into the family somehow.” He winked, as if to let Sean know it was only a joke. But Sean knew Patrick’s good-natured teasing was more often than not a glimpse into how he truly felt.

He convinced himself he only did what had to be done to make them all rich.

Sean made arrangements to ship some of Patrick’s personal belongings to Honolulu. As he went through the books in the library, he wondered if Patrick had read any of them.

There was a knock on the door. Sean turned and saw the servant girl, Mary, holding several books in one hand. “Sorry to interrupt you Sir, but I never returned these to Mr. O’Malley before he passed away.” She put the books on the table. He glanced through the titles quickly. The Scarlet Letter. Red Badge of Courage. Pride and Prejudice.

He nodded at the books on the desk. “You like that stuff?”

Mary blushed. “Oh, yes. But I’ve kept them too long. Your uncle was very kind.”

“Take whatever books you want. The rest will go to charity. I have no use for books.” He put down the books he held in his hands and walked out of the library.

Chaul Roong was shocked. Jeff White was the new manager of Kohala Plantation.

When Jeff met with Chaul Roong on plantation business there was no hint of recognition in his face or voice. He wasn’t surprised. White was the kind of
haole
who thought all “chinks” looked alike. There was no such thing as justice in this world. If justice existed, Jeff would not be back as manager.

Chaul Roong remembered finding the Yamamoto girl in the field, clutching Jeff’s yellow and blue checkered scarf in her hand. He wondered if Jeff had victimized others since the night Patrick banished him from Kohala. Thinking of Jeff reminded him Mariko worked at the plantation manager’s house. He advised her mother of the danger. It was awkward speaking to a woman of such things, but Kazuko san was a widow and had lived long enough to know the world was not a safe place.

Chaul Roong would have quit without a second thought except he had just mortgaged his real estate in order to buy a rooming house in Honolulu. Heavily indebted, his savings were almost totally depleted. A lot of money had gone to Bong Sik’s education. After Bok Nam’s death ten years earlier, he sent Tae Ja money anonymously. He didn’t want her to feel ashamed but guessed she probably knew who her benefactor was.

Three months ago, he received the first communication from her since she disappeared seventeen years ago. The letter was stilted and formal. Still, he trembled when he read it:

Dear Mr. Han:

I'm the widow of your friend Bok Nam Chong. My husband died ten years ago. Through the generosity of a kind friend, my son and I have managed to live well during these difficult times.

Please forgive me for writing. I do not do so on my own behalf. My son has been accepted into a great university in the United States. Bong Sik is very smart. He dreams of becoming a doctor. But medical school costs a lot of money. My son does not want me to sacrifice for his dreams. It would break my heart to see him sacrifice his.

I told him his father had an old friend who was well off. Perhaps I could ask the old friend for a loan, which we would pay back with interest after my son goes into practice. Then my son could realize his dream and his freedom.

If you could find it in your heart to help us, we will be forever grateful.

Tae Ja

He reread the letter a dozen times, sniffing the paper and holding it close. He still felt the pain of her leaving. How he longed to take his place alongside the only woman he had ever loved. At times, when Dok Ja looked at him with hungry eyes, he felt guilty. He owed his life to her. She had done what only a woman in love would do. He loved his children but as much as he tried, he didn't love her. Tae Ja was his passion. He would never get over losing her. And now, their love child wanted to become a doctor and he couldn’t share in the glory.

He replied to her letter promptly. To try and see her would be futile. He was still very much married with five children.

Chaul Roong had his family, his debts, and Bong Sik to consider. Paltry though his salary might be, every penny was sorely needed. He couldn’t afford to quit. Maybe in a year or two he would be financially secure and able to leave Kohala once and for all.

But how long could he stand to work for such a monster? And how long before the monster remembered him as the man who hauled him off to Patrick O’Malley after the rape of Tomiko? Would he recall the man who stopped him from hitting his pregnant wife?

One day, while Chaul Roong stood next to the company car discussing business with Jeff, his wife Lucille rolled down the car window and called out, “Mr. Han. It’s Mrs. White. Do you remember me?”

Chaul Roong fought down his panic as Jeff looked first at his wife, then at him. Jeff’s eyes narrowed.

Chaul Roong bowed. “A pleasure to see you again, Mrs. White.”

What else could he say?

Two weeks later, Chaul Roong lay on his stomach as Dok Ja walked up and down his back. It had become a ritual every evening after work. Relegated to the field for a week now, he felt ten years older. The humiliation of being demoted after being boss
luna
for all these years along with the brutal physical labor almost broke him.

“Manager White is
pupule
,” Dok Ja complained as she marched in place on his back, “only a
pupule
man would replace the best boss
luna
on the Big Island with a stupid
haole
who never saw sugar cane before.”

“It's the way things are,” Chaul Roong turned his head to the wall.

“We must leave Kohala and go to Honolulu,” Dok Ja muttered.

“I can’t.” Chaul Roong shook his head. “What will we do? At least here we have the pool hall, the diner, and the bathhouses.”

“Is it good for our sons to see their father brought down?” Dok Ja stepped off his back and stood with her feet apart. “You say to the children we must always move up. What lessons do you think you are teaching them? Why work so hard when some stupid
haole
can come along and destroy everything you took years to get? Is that what you want our sons to learn?”

 “And what would you have us do?”

“Let me go to Honolulu first. It’s easy for a woman to find a job. You stay here and sell our property. I’ll take the children with me.”

“What will you do?”

“I could be a maid.”

“You don’t speak English.”

“Who has to speak English just to clean houses?”

Chaul Roong closed his eyes. “Dok Ja, in many ways you are a wise woman.

Jeff White became a regular patron of Aunty Lani’s whorehouse in Hilo. Rumors leaked to Kohala and Chaul Roong heard Jeff now took his perversion to whorehouses where he spent a fortune on the youngest girls he could find.

Chaul Roong did business with Aunty Lani. Realizing men couldn't live for decades without a woman, Chaul Roong discreetly brought women to the plantation once a month to service the bachelors. He didn't judge Aunty Lani. Life was hard on everyone who wasn't
haole
. Like everyone else, Aunty Lani and her whores had to survive in a merciless world.

Chaul Roong met with Aunty Lani and they came up with a plan.

One Saturday night, Jeff's usual time at the whorehouse, Chaul Roong hid inside a closet in her room and witnessed Aunty Lani crooking her arthritic forefinger to Jeff with a sly grin and a wink.  “I have special girl for you. Top dollar for da kine. You like?”

Jeff raised an eyebrow. “How do you know she’s a virgin?”

Aunty Lani put her hands on her broad hips and pursed her thick lips painted crimson to match the round spots of rouge on her wrinkled cheeks. “Aunty Lani not cheat you. Virgin for sure. Only eleven year old, look nine. You like see?”

Jeff wet his lips and took the bait. “Show me.”

Aunty Lani smirked. She turned and swayed her broad hips like the hula dancer she’d been and led him to a peephole hidden behind a garish black velvet painting of a seductress. Her blood-red claw tapped on a peephole in the wall.

Jeff looked through the hole. Chaul Roong and Aunty Lani had set the scene prior to his arrival.  A lovely, young, dark-haired girl lay on her side atop of a sheet less bed wearing a red kimono. Her face was scrubbed clean she screamed of  innocence and purity.

Jeff licked his lips and sucked in his breath. Tearing his eyes from the peephole, he asked, “How much?”

“Seventy dollas.”

Jeff raised his eyebrows. “Ridiculous.”

“You no like, somebody else like. I show you first because you good customer. Maybe I get a hundred dollas in Honolulu. Lots of men like da kine from young girl.”

Jeff turned back to look through the peephole. He breathed heavily. “Fifty.”

“Seventy dollas, not one penny less. She worth it.”

Jeff wiped his forehead now beaded with perspiration. “Okay. Seventy, but I have her the whole weekend.”

Aunty Lani put out her bejeweled hand. “Deal. She can lose da kine only once, so might as well. You have money now?”

Jeff shook his head. “No. I have to go to the bank. I’ll come back next weekend. You’ll have her here?”

Aunty Lani jabbed him in the ribs. “Give you best room in the house.”

Chaul Roong followed Jeff the next weekend and saw him hand Aunty Lani the money. Her long, red fingernails peeled back one bill at a time as she counted aloud. When she was done, she lifted her blackened eyebrow and smiled. “Okay, come with me. Girl ready. Her name – ”

“I don’t care what her name is.” Jeff snapped.

“Okay. No Name waiting for you.” Aunty Lani turned. Jeff rubbed his palms together as he followed her swaying hips to a room on the bottom floor.

Chaul Roong left the closet and sped down the back stairs just in time to hear the door open to a darkened room.

“Why is it so dark? I want to see her.”

“Girl scared. Give her few minutes get used to idea then Lisa come and light the room so you can see mo betta.”

“She’d better be here in five minutes.” Through the shaft of light coming from the open door, Chaul Roong saw Jeff fumble with his shirt buttons and toss it on the floor. “I want my money’s worth.” He pulled down his pants and threw it on top of his shirt. Then he crawled into bed stark naked.

“No worry. Get in bed and I send girl to you. After girl come to bed, Lisa put light.” Aunty Lani padded to the door. She turned to Jeff and snickered before she closed the door.

Chaul Roong heard his heavy breathing.

The door flew open. Jeff jerked up. Chaul Roong clamped his hand across his mouth and held on to his struggling body. One of the men tied a blindfold over Jeff's eyes. Other hands tied his hands and feet. One of the men cleared his throat and spit on Jeff's face.

“
Pilau bugga
!” Aunt Lani hissed. “Aunty Lani don’t sell little
keikis
!”

They carried him out of the house and threw him like a bag of rice into the back of a dilapidated truck. The engine sputtered while starting and lurched forward.

Half an hour they stopped in the middle of the cane field. Chaul Roong felt Jeff shivering as the other men helped him pick up Jeff and unceremoniously dump him off the truck and onto the hard ground.

A putrid and rotten smell drew near, filling the night air.

Jeff gagged.

A raspy voice yelled, “The bugga going throw up. You no like him choke on his vomit.”

Hands pulled Jeff's gag off and he threw up all over himself. Blubbering, he began crying.

Chaul Roong nodded. A lantern was lit and he and the rest of the men stepped back.

Dark shapes moved from the shadows. As they neared, the smell became  overpowering.  Four men in tattered plantation clothes and rice bags with holes over their faces came into the lantern light to stand around Jeff.

As the men drew near, the lantern light revealed their scaly skin peeling off like a shedding snake. Other parts of their bodies were ulcerated. One of them didn’t have a nose and had a hole where his mouth should have been. Another had a half-eaten nose. They didn’t have ears. Their faces looked butchered.

The monstrous men brushed against Jeff and he cried for help. They rubbed their rough and scaly hands on Jeff's naked body. Chaul Roong shuddered as he imagined the men's slimy wetness slithering over the plantation manager. As they rubbed against Jeff, he peed. Jeff screamed and one of his tormenters grabbed his face. Another's fingers held his mouth open while scabrous hands stuck fingers in his mouth and rubbed his gums and tongue. Another man's tongue licked him on both sides of his face.

Guttural sounds emitted from Jeff.

Chaul Roong stood with grim resolve as hands groped every inch of Jeff's body.

Still blindfolded, Jeff's nightmare came to an end.  A hoarse voice said, “Okay, Boss Man. Look and see how you going end up.”

The blindfold was ripped from Jeff's eyes. He stood unsteadily and blinked in the dusk.

A raspy laugh punctuated the night air. “’Member me, Boss Man?” The thing without a nose guffawed.

Jeff shook.

“Ichiro Yamamoto. ‘Member?”

 “For God’s sake, have pity!”

“Like you when have for my daughter?” Ichiro shrieked as he hopped around.

“I don’t know you. I don’t know your daughter.”

“Tomiko.” The gaping hole in Ichiro's face twisted maniacally. “My daughter ten years old when you when rape her.”

Ichiro stuck his face close to Jeff and spat into his face. “Two years later, she when kill herself. You when take her life and you no remember her?”

Ichiro pounded Jeff's face bloody until one of the men stopped him. "No kill him."

“I’m sorry,” Jeff babbled. He closed his eyes, rolled to his side and vomited.

The four men cackled.

“Open your eyes,
Luna
White!”

Jeff obeyed.

The men disrobed. There wasn’t an inch of their body that wasn’t horribly deformed by the disease. Their skin either hung in shreds or had red sores bubbling over. “
Mai pake
,” they chanted. “We have
mai pake
and now you have it too! We see you in Molokai, Boss Man! Don’t worry. We told everyone on the island all about you. They waiting for you.”

The lepers shrieked while dancing around him.

Jeff fainted.

Ichiro Yamamoto shuffled up to Jeff’s inert body and kicked him.

Chaul Roong emerged from the shadows with a few plantation workers.

Ichiro and his followers stood a safe distance away. The men looked at each other across Jeff’s body. Ichiro bowed from his waist, a flicker of a smile on his mutilated face. Ichiro's companions bowed too.

Chaul Roong and the men around him bowed back.

Silently, the lepers and the field workers went their separate ways leaving the man they loathed passed out on the ground.

Six months later, Jeff White was exiled to the island of Molokai where the lepers waited for him.