The Ohana (32 page)

“How did you get into the Bible?”

“Crazy Aunty Meg sent it to me.” He chuckled and put the Bible back on the nightstand. “It sat there for a year before I actually opened it. Having gone to chapel at Punahou, I thought I knew everything about it. But I knew nothing. It's part of my journey.”

“Is finding yourself the most important thing to you?”

 “Yes,” Steve said. “For now, anyway.”

“But how do you live? Is your trust fund so large working isn't necessary?”

“It’s not so large. After Krishna, I vowed I'd never be the target of a cult because of money. I gave my brother Patrick the bulk of my trust. The income, the Corpus, everything. I just kept some minor assets to live on. I guess I miscalculated how long it would take and how much I would need.” He looked away. “I asked Patrick if he would consider returning the trusts to me.”

Susan lay on her back again. “And?”

“He refused.” He shrugged. “Oh well, he was right. I gave it to him. It wasn’t his idea. So if he wants to keep it, it’s his money.”

She remembered May saying Patrick was contemptible. She was right.

“Anyway, it all worked out because my Aunt Meg decided to let me live here and I still own a little stock in the family companies. I don’t care. Really, I don’t.”

“Do you care about anything at all?” Susan asked.

“Not really. My feelings died in ‘Nam. It’s hard to care there. If you did you risked going nuts. But sometimes, when it rains while I’m asleep, the drops clattering on the tin roof remind me of the villages and I panic thinking, Charley’s coming, Charley’s coming. Sometimes I see the thin, starving, accusing faces of the villagers and wake up screaming.” He closed his eyes against the memory. “I wonder if the nightmares will ever end.”

Susan kissed him. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Steve whispered against her ear. “It is what it is.”

“I became a war protester myself. Mostly due to your letters.”

“I’m not surprised,” Steve said.

“I’ve changed too, Steve.” Susan turned on her side again and propped her head in her hand. “I found it hard to live on principles, especially in a place as expensive as Honolulu. I didn’t have a trust fund to support my idealism.”

“So what are you trying to tell me? You sold out?” Steve traced the line of her hip with the tip of his finger.

“No. I simply had to face reality.”

“Like working for my father.”

Susan felt her face grow hot. “Did he tell you that?”

“No,” Steve answered. “My mother did. She writes me every week and keeps me updated.” He grinned at her. “So what are you going to put in your report?”

Susan sat up and hugged her knees to her chest. “They’re worried about you. As I am. I wanted to come and see you.”

“So what are you going to say to him?”

“That you’re lost and can’t seem to find your way back home again.”

“I don’t have a home, at least not with them.” Steve waved his hand about the room. “This is my home.”

 “For now.” Susan looked around the room. “This looks temporary to me.”

 “I have a proposition. Why don’t you throw materialism out the window and come and live with me? We can be as idealistic and impractical as we want while we seek God and the meaning of existence. You know I love you. I’ve always loved you. I think you love me too. We don’t need anything or anyone else. It'll be just you and me.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why? Is this home too poor?”

“Yes, okay,” Susan admitted. “I’ve succumbed to the call of materialism. Still, who are you to judge? I want what I never had. Maybe after I experience it, I can divest myself of it like you. But I don't think I can live without the basics in life—electricity, running water, a bathroom for with plumbing, for goodness sake. I don’t know how you can.”

“So you’ve sold out to materialism,” Steve said.

“Stop judging. Just because you can afford to live like a hippie, don’t get on your high horse. I’m not you, okay? I love you, but I'm being real. I can't live like this.” Susan indicated the room with broad hand strokes. “Very few can. You can’t hide the rest of your life, you know.”

Susan wrapped a blanket around her and got up to sit in a chair facing the bed. She massaged the back of her neck.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to make you mad.” Steve apologized. “I’m glad to see you. Seeing you again makes me realize how much I’ve missed you. If you decided to stay here with me, I'd be the happiest man in the world.”

“Turn it around. It would make me happy if you came back and led a normal life. I don’t need to be rich, but I do want to be normal.” She looked around the room. “Not like this.” Her eyes focused on some of his work. “You could be sell your art. You’re fantastic, you know.”

Steve shook his head. “I can’t go back yet. I'm an empty shell needing to be filled up with something I’m not sure of.”

“Why does it have to be this way? I now know why I could never find anyone after Jimmy. You’re the unfinished business in my life.” She began to cry. “Can’t we compromise?”

“Shh… ” Steve rose and went to her, kissing her on the forehead. “There is only today. Let’s cherish today forever.” He drew her to her feet and kissed her long and hard on her mouth. Leading her back to bed, they made love again. Poignant regret shadowed their every movement; they knew they were saying goodbye. As they rocked together, their bodies and souls fused.

It was the most beautiful moment in their lives.

Susan wrote long letters to Steve, but he never responded. He didn’t have a phone so the post was her only source of contact. His actions hurt. Thoughts of Steve filled her with pain and regret. Perhaps, she thought, she should have given up everything. Wasn’t that what love was about?

When she could stand it no longer, she flew to Hana, rented a car, and drove to his house. It was empty. Puzzled, she drove to Hasegawa’s General Store.

 The proprietor shook his head. “I no see Steve for long time. I think he go away. Don’t know where.”

Susan sat in her car and cried. She pounded the steering wheel with the heel of her hand. “You stupid fool!” she shouted to no one. “How could you have let him go?”

After her tears were spent, she hiked for two and a half hours along the Pipiwai trail that crossed the Seven Sacred Pools. The tranquility and serene beauty of the waterfalls calmed her. Watching the water plunge 400 feet down the lava rock walls, she realized why Steve felt centered in Hana. She felt God’s presence amidst the powerful majesty of the falls and the solace of the Infinity Pool. It occurred to her for the first time her search for a meaningful existence should start by finding God instead of a man to fulfill her dreams and to erase the ache in her heart.

"If it’s meant to be, he’ll come back to you, she told herself." Saying it reassured her. She wept at the edge of the Infinity Pool. For the first time in her life, she cried out to God, "Bring him back God. Please, bring him back to me."

It began with a little art gallery in Whaler’s Village. Because of Susan, he decided to return to the world. She displayed such genuine appreciation for his art, he wondered if other people would react the same way. Before she’d left him in Hana she said, “Your talent is a gift. You’re being selfish. You need to share this with others.”

When he hauled three paintings and a sculpture to the gallery in his pick-up truck, he had no idea it was the beginning of a new life for him. The salesgirl was so excited she called the gallery owner in from a game of golf to see his stuff.

The owner took one look at the paintings and asked, “Do you have enough for a show?”

“I have three year’s worth,” Steve replied. “All except one of them is for sale.”

Within two years, Steven’s art was shown in New York, California, Paris, and Rome. He became a celebrity in the art world. His canvasses and sculptures sold faster than he could produce them. But he felt like he was giving a part of himself away with each canvas and sculpture. Money was just a way of keeping score.

When he began to make serious money, he approached his Aunt Meg in her Lanikai estate about buying the property in Hana.

Aunt Meg grasped his hand in hers and leaned forward with a twinkle in her eyes. “Okay. But I don’t want money.”

“What do you want?”

“A painting.”

Meg sat in a wicker chair; the ocean framed her delicate face now threaded with fine lines around her eyes and silvery gold hair. She was still a beautiful woman. The sea provided the perfect canvas for her face. But he knew there was only one way he wanted to paint her.

As a young child, his mother had taken him to visit Aunty Meg at her home in Tantalus. As they drove through the gates, their car passed a huge monkey pod tree. Meg stood under the tree, her back to them. At the sound of the car she turned slightly and Steve saw her profile in the dying light. It took his breath away. She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. As their eyes met, they connected on a spiritual level. The little boy grew up to be a man whose nature was so similar to elusive Aunty Meg.

He raised his hand in greeting. She smiled and waved back.

Steve painted two oils for her. The first depicted Diamond Head, exactly what she asked for and typical of his first works. The second gift brought tears to her eyes. It was a painting of her Tantalus estate at dusk. Great kiawe and monkey pod trees hung heavy with gloom. The dying sun glimmered through the trees. Under one of the trees was a lone figure with her back to the viewer. Aunty Meg's profile lit the canvas. The melancholy piece was haunting and visually arresting.

Aunt Meg hugged him. “Oh Steve,” she said as she pulled away. “It’s beautiful.”

Danny was there for the unveiling. He encircled Meg’s waist with his right arm and drew her closer to him. “You look so sad there,” he said.

“When I was younger, I was sad most of the time.” Aunt Meg put her head on Danny’s shoulder, then looked at her nephew. “I don’t know how you knew.”

“We’re cut from the same cloth,” he said.

Aunt Meg kissed Danny’s cheek. “But I’m happy now. I’m blessed to have the best husband in the world.”

She stepped close to Steve and put her hands on either side of his face. “Someday you'll be blessed with someone who loves you with all her heart. You'll meet your match.”

Steve bought the Hana property.

As his fame grew, so did the number of women who pursued him. But Susan was his soul mate. Yet he continued to avoid her because he was still on the road to recovery from the Post Traumatic Stress Disorder had sucked the lifeblood from him. He didn’t want to disappoint her. Not ever. And to insure that, he needed to heal.

Honolulu: 1977

Steve stood across the street from the building where his father’s office was located and nervously ran his fingers through his cropped hair. He looked at his reflection in the glass window behind him and smiled at the unfamiliar sight. He was clean shaven and wore a Polo shirt tucked into khaki trousers.

He decided he better look good since he intended to ask her to marry him. It had been four years since he had seen Susan. While she hadn’t heard a word from him, he had kept in contact through his mother. Her letters kept him informed about Susan, and he knew she was still unmarried.

She was his first and last love. He had been more than a little jealous of Jimmy. It never occurred to him she might love him too. Their timing was bad. Now he was back in the world, and wanted her by his side.

I’ve come back, Sue
, he thought.
My flashbacks are gone and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.

He kept all the letters she wrote him. When he didn’t respond, the letters got fewer and farther between until they stopped altogether. He really couldn’t blame her, why should she keep writing when he refused to write back?

Before he came to Honolulu, he re-read each one. Steve was certain of himself now. He didn’t want to run anymore.

Now, with so many words left unsaid and unwritten, he wondered what he would say when he saw her. He’d rehearsed enough. He wanted to tell her what how he had taken her advice and became an artist. Not just any artist, but a successful artist.

He wasn’t the only one who had done well. His mother said she had risen quickly through the ranks to become assistant vice-president.

Yes, Susan, he thought. We’ve both come a long way.

He took a step into the street when he saw her walk through the front door. He started to call her name, but saw she was arm in arm with a handsome man about her age. The sun brought out the red highlights in her black hair and her upturned face focused on the stranger. Steve’s heart stopped at the sound of her laughter. She looked happy.

He hesitated, unsure as to whether or not to approach her. Perhaps the man was a cousin or merely a good friend. Steve watched, transfixed, as Susan and the man stopped and stood still. Susan turned and faced the dark-haired stranger as he slipped his arms around her. They gazed at each other. The look that passed between them left nothing to the imagination.

Steve took a step back onto the sidewalk and slipped out of her life once again.