Page 58 of Maliea's Hero
Reid eased onto the one behind her. The man in the bow turned on his seat, removed the lei from around his neck and placed it around hers. He said something in Hawaiian.
Maliea responded, speaking softly, fingering the green leaves. She turned slightly in her seat to look back at Reid, her eyes filled with tears. “They want you to have the other lei.”
Reid turned to the man in the stern and let him transfer the lei from around his neck to Reid’s. He inhaled, admiring the fragrant scent the leaves gave off.
Maliea explained. “These leis are made of the leaves of the maile vine. It represents the sorrow and respect for a cherished member of the community who has passed. It’s a great honor that they considered my father a cherished member of their community.” Her words choked with emotion as several tears slid down her cheeks. “They are taking us to the village. Their people have prepared a special feast in honor of my father’s passing.”
“How did they have time to prepare?”
Maliea gave him a weak smile. “They’ve been planning it since they heard of my father’s plane crash. It just happened to be scheduled for today. I think that’s why they were so quick to let us come.”
The two men dug their paddles into the water, turning the canoe around and heading for the shore.
Kalea had worked it out with the pilot to drop them off and return the next day to pick them up. Once the canoe was far enough away from the plane, the engine roared to life. Moments later, the plane sped across the water and rose into the air.
Looking forward, Reid noted the group of people gathered along the wooden dock, dressed in their finest Native Hawaiian outfits.
The women wore colorful dresses with crowns and wristlets of bright green leaves or flowers. The men were shirtless with long red loincloths, green bands of leaves around their ankles and their dark skin tattooed with tribal images.
They helped Reid and Maliea out of the canoe onto the wooden dock and layered more leis around their necks. They led their guests up a hill to a village adorned with flowers and leafy garlands.
Every man, woman and child had gathered. They greeted Maliea like a returning member of the family, guiding her to a prominent position in front of the leaders of their community.
The old man Reid guessed was in charge took her hands in his and spoke in a deep, rich voice.
Maliea nodded and responded in his language.
The leader waved a hand, and the crowd dispersed, going back to whatever preparations they’d been assigned.
The leader of the community led Maliea and Reid around the village, pointing out the highlights of their traditional existence, from the carefully tended fishnets to the construction of a new canoe. He went on to take them through one of their homes, proud of the electric lights powered by their array of solar panels.
Maliea translated as much and as fast as she could. “The island is owned by Keith and Bruce Robinson, the great-great grandsons of the original owner who first inhabited the island and vowed to preserve the cultural heritage of its people. To do that, they limit visitors.”
Reid was always amazed at the resilience of the very young. Children ran and played like children all over the world, unaware of the differences in their lives versus the lives of other children on neighboring islands.
Maliea went on with her translation. “The island has no paved roads. Its people get around on foot, horseback or bicycles. They don’t have running water or indoor plumbing. They gather rainwater from their roofs. The lack of amenities also limits the number of people who can live on the island. They have no doctor and no phones or internet.”
“Have you told him about Mark Laster and the potential of others coming to their island in search of the Redbeard Treasure?” Reid asked.
Maliea shook her head. “When he’s finished with the tour, I’ll let him know.”
The sun slipped lower on the horizon by the time the community leader brought them back to the center of their village. Once again, all the inhabitants had gathered. Tiki torches were lit, providing a hazy glow of light around the circle.
The scent of roasted pig made Reid’s stomach rumble. He was glad he and Maliea had eaten a big breakfast as they hadn’t stopped for lunch.
Once they were all in attendance, the community leader sat on the ground. Everyone who wasn’t helping prepare the feast sat as well.
Villagers brought out platters filled with traditional Hawaiian delicacies like poi, fish, chicken, sweet potatoes, pit-roasted pig, breadfruit and other things Reid couldn’t identify, but he vowed to try everything.
Maliea leaned close to the leader and spoke softly.
He listened without interruption. When she was done speaking, he nodded and said something.
Maliea turned to Reid. “I told him about Mark Laster and the people we suspect employed him to help them find the treasure. He understands. They’ve had treasure hunters invade their island over the past hundred years, searching for the lost ship and the treasure that was stolen from Oahu.”
“Did you tell him these people could be very dangerous?” Reid asked.
She nodded. “I did. He said no one has ever found the treasure on the island. They will fail as well.”