The Ohana (27 page)

“Do you know each other?” Katherine peered at them.

Mary said, “I was a maid in his Uncle Patrick’s house.”

Katherine blinked. “And Jackie is your daughter?”

“Yes,” Mary held out her hand. “I’m Mary Han, and this is my husband, Mark.”

Mark nodded and shook Sean's hand then turned to Katherine.

Katherine shook Mark's hand but her eyes were on Mary. She put her hand in the crook of Sean’s arm and turned back to Mary. “You were a maid?”

A pained look crossed Mary’s face. But she answered without a trace of embarrassment. “Yes.”

“That was a long time ago,” Sean put a warning hand on Katherine’s. “Your daughter is as beautiful as you are.”

Mary shot him a grateful look. “Thank you. I’m very proud of her.”

Katherine pressed Sean’s side to signal him to move on.

When they were out of earshot, Katherine hissed. “There’s something about Jackie’s mother I don’t like. Imagine, saying she’s proud of her daughter who posed naked for the whole world to see.”

“Don’t be catty, Katherine,” Sean said.

“And I didn’t like the way you looked at her.” Katherine tightened her grip on Sean’s arm.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sean disengaged herself from his wife.

“That’s because you can’t see yourself. A woman always knows these things.” Katherine frowned. “Something went on between you two. Men were always playing around with the help in those days.”

“Let me get you a drink. Your imagination is running wild." Sean took a step back and walked quickly across the floor to the bar before she could respond.

At eighteen, Susan Han didn’t burn her bra, smoke or drink, or do drugs. She hadn’t marched in anti-Vietnam War or Civil Rights demonstrations. And, she was still a virgin. When she graduated from Kalani High School in 1966, she was a pro-Vietnam War hawk. That September, she entered the University of Hawaii. She was bright, eager, and impatient to get on with the business of being an adult. In her mind, part of being a grown-up was deciding whether or not to get laid.

 “Do guys care whether or not a girl is a virgin anymore?” Susan asked her best friend Deborah as they sat under a banyan tree on campus.

“They’ll think you’re weird if you don’t sleep with them,” Deborah leaned against the massive trunk and idly pushed the dirt around with her sneakered foot. “You’re in college now. No one’s a virgin.”

“Ever since I got the sex talk, I’ve been told boys fooled around with bad girls but only married good girls.” Susan looked up through the arms of the banyan tree towering above her into the serene blue sky. She could barely feel the hot sun against her tanned skin. It was always cooler under the giant trees. Nothing grew under its shade. It had to be two hundred years old, she wondered what happened under this tree during its life.

“Parents say all kinds of things to scare you,” Deborah replied. “Besides, what’s good?”

“Good girls don’t do it until they marry.” Susan wrapped her arms around her knees.

“You’re living in the dark ages.”

Susan turned to Deborah. “How many guys have you slept with?”

Deborah closed her eyes for a minute. “Five.”

Susan’s eyes widened. “You’ve already slept with five guys?”

“Well how are you going to know who you’re compatible with unless you experiment?” Deborah shifted to her side and rested on her elbow. “Didn’t you ever want to have sex with someone?”

“Not that I recall.”

Deborah flopped onto her back again. “Maybe you’re frigid or a lesbian.”

“Well I’m not attracted to girls.” Susan looked up at the sky. “And seriously, I don’t know if I’m frigid…whatever that means."

Two weeks later, she nearly capitulated during a heavy petting session. But at the last minute, she pushed her boyfriend away. “I can’t,” she said.

“Why?” He looked so comical sitting there in his underwear.

“Because I haven’t decided yet.” She bit her lip. “Maybe I still want to be a virgin when I get married.”

He frowned and pulled on his pants. “What a drag.”

Susan was scared. She had almost let her body get away from her. Worst of all, she wanted to. She wanted to so bad her stomach and head hurt. Life was filled with difficult decisions.

Besides the huge swing in the country’s moral values, there was the war in Vietnam which ignited her generation. There were two sides, the hawks and the doves.  Unlike most families, Susan was the hawk and her father, the dove. 

"Haven't you ever heard of the domino theory?" Susan snapped at her father one day at dinner while he was in one of his rare mellow moods. Probably smoking pot, she thought. Although he stuffed the bottom of his doorway with a towel, the smell still drifted out. One of her friends smelled it while visiting her and to Susan's embarrassment, she told everyone how cool Susan's dad was.

"So tell me what this theory is college girl," her father said while grazing on chicken long rice,
kalua
pig, and
lomi lomi
salmon mixed into poi.

"If Vietnam falls, the rest of Asia will follow until the East becomes one Communist bloc under Chairman Mao. We have a moral duty to save the world and our country Communism."

"As long as my son doesn't have to go to war," her father replied while sprinkling his food with pink Hawaiian
alae
salt from Kauai,  "what do I care?"

Her father infuriated her with his passive viewpoint while her mother had encouraged her to fight for what she thought was right since she was a child.

"When I was growing up," her mother said, "I was taught to respect our elders, even our older siblings. If we got into trouble at school, we never told our parents because they would punish us too. The teacher was always right. There were times when I knew I was right. Fight for what you believe in. Find your own truth, don't accept someone else's just because they're older or in authority."

Susan took her mother's words to heart and it fueled her life.

At the University, she gravitated towards organized discussion groups. Asians, especially the Japanese, usually set a tone of restraint and polite silence on explosive subjects. Most of the time, they didn’t say anything. It was a shock to hear Asians joining the volatile rhetoric heard on campuses across the nation. The hawks and the dove fought a war of words. The right became outraged at the left and accusations of treason were flung as tempers rose to a fever pitch.

She met Air Force ROTC cadets Jimmy and Steve at one of the meetings. They both had regulation short hair, neatly pressed clothes, and a high tolerance for jeering from long-haired hippies. And, they were
haole
.

At first she was attracted to Steve Duffy because of his dark violet eyes with glints of blue. He was tall, lean, and muscular with a thin, serious face and a patrician air. He rarely smiled, but when he did, his whole face lit up and his unchecked joy infected everyone.

However Steve could be withdrawn and aloof at times. On the other hand, his friend Jimmy Turner was like a warm, sunny day. It was outgoing Jimmy who introduced himself to Susan. A charming rascal, Jimmy lived with such carefree abandon, Susan couldn’t understand what he was doing at the Vietnam War gatherings or why he was in ROTC.

Jimmy shrugged at the inconsistency. “Number one, I figure I’ll probably get drafted so I might as well go in as an officer. Two, I want to be an airline pilot making lots of money for very little work. I like the idea of being surrounded by foxy stewardesses. After my tour, I’ll work for Pan Am or United. Not like Steve here,” he poked Steve playfully in the ribs. “He wants to save the world from Communism. I’m just tagging along to make sure he doesn’t get into too much trouble at these meetings.”

Steve and Jimmy made an incongruous couple, the comic and the straight man. It wasn’t long before Susan became Jimmy’s girl.

Susan had never dated a
haole
before. Ever since graduation, she found herself drawn to them, partly because of the newness of the situation, but mostly because her father was so adamantly opposed to it. Her dad’s attitude toward
haoles
turned her off completely.

“If I ever catch you with a
haole
, I’ll disown you,” her father threatened time and again. However, he reserved his venom for
haole
men, not the women. It made perfect sense to no one but him. When she pointed out the inconsistency, he would start talking about his war experiences for the hundredth time.

“What does that have to do with my generation?” she lashed back. “The guys my age had no part of what you went through.”

“Yes, but their fathers did!” Her dad shouted. “Like father, like son.”

 It hadn’t been worth defying her father just to date a
haole
. Jimmy was different. She liked him from the start. He was worth the risk. Besides, in the beginning, it wasn’t as if they were really dating. Susan got into the habit of meeting them at Sinclair Library to study and it segued into going to Hemenway Hall for snacks and casual conversation. From there it evolved into cutting classes to go to the beach or go hiking and mud sliding on Tantalus. They were always together. Jimmy dubbed them the Three Musketeers. The three semesters they spent together were glorious. Every day was summer. Even Steve let loose.

 Becoming Jimmy’s girl happened naturally. When she finally lost her virginity to him, he had been shocked to discover she was a virgin. It amused her. She was twenty years old and finally felt like a woman.

When Steve told his two best friends he enlisted in the Army prior to graduation, they both stared at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“What?” Jimmy jumped up from the picnic table they were sitting on. “You’ve got less than a year in college and ROTC and you’re going in as a grunt? Who do you think you are, John Wayne?”

Susan put her hand on Steve. “I thought you wanted to fly more than anything else in the world.”

“I do,” Steve squeezed her hand. “But I want to experience firsthand what may turn out to be the most significant event of our generation. I don’t want the war to end before I get there.”

“You’re crazy.” Jimmy sat and put his head back, closing his eyes and soaking in the rays. “I keep hoping it’ll be over before I go in. I’ll be more than happy not to fly missions over there.”

“Well I can’t feel the way I do about Vietnam and be content to just read about it in newspapers. School will always be here. The war may not.” Steve released Susan’s hand and ran his fingers through his hair.

“But you could go in as an officer in a year.” Susan tousled Jimmy’s hair. He looked up at her and kissed her on the nose.

“It’s not so bad.” Steve said as he watched them. A ghost of a smile played on his lips.

“No, it’s not so bad. It’s terrible,” Jimmy said with a shake of his head.

“Then it’ll be my mistake. Jimmy I know you’re in ROTC to get your wings, but Sue, can you kind of understand, can’t you? You believe we should be in ‘Nam, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do. But I hate to think of you getting hurt.”

Steve looked at her with earnest eyes. “Susan every poor grunt out there is someone’s friend, brother, husband, or lover.”

Hearing the passion in his voice she answered softly. “You’re right.”

“Listen.” Steve took each of their hands. “The deed is done, no sense crying about it. My folks are throwing a party for me Saturday night. I want my two best friends there. Okay?”

“Sure, we’ll be honored to be there, won’t we, Sue?” Jimmy had sat up and put his arm around Susan.

“Of course,” Susan agreed. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Her mother appeared in the doorway as Susan was getting ready to go to Steve’s party. “Can I come in?”

Susan nodded as she brushed her straight black hair hanging down to the middle of her back. She hoped her mother’s interruption wouldn’t make her late to the party.

“Going somewhere special?” Mary sat down on the bed and watched her.

“One of my friends volunteered for Vietnam. His folks are throwing a party for him.”

“That’s nice.” Her mother crossed her legs and cupped her hands around her knee.

“He could die over there.” Susan put her brush down on her vanity top and picked up a bottle of cologne. Chanel No. 5, a gift from Jimmy. Susan felt funny taking gifts from Jimmy he couldn’t really afford, but he always insisted. He was like her father who constantly bought her mother presents.

“Your father's worried.”

Susan turned. “About what?”

“About your
haole
friends.”

Susan turned back to the mirror. “I don’t know why he hates
haoles
.”

“You don’t know what it was like in the plantations,” Mary uncrossed her legs, “or during the war.”

“Dad didn't even go to war. Even so, Dad reminds me of Uncle George's war experiences constantly.” Susan frowned. “That was then, this is now.”

“It’s not as simple as that.”

“Why can’t he see times have changed? Look at you. You don’t hate
haoles
.” Susan heard her mother’s sharp intake as she foraged in her closet for sandals.

Mary’s voice hesitated. “Well, I don’t talk about it all the time like your father.”

“Don’t tell me you hate
haoles
too?” Susan turned and stared at her.

Mary looked down at her hands. “I don’t hate them, but I would like my children to marry their own kind.”

“I never expected you, of all people, to talk like that. What about Jackie’s father?”

 “I was never married to Jackie’s father.”

Susan stared at her open-mouthed. “Does Jackie know?”

“Yes. It was hard to tell her.”

They avoided each other’s eyes for a few minutes while Susan put her wallet, keys, and make-up in her bag.