Legacy

The stew sat well, warming me and the child growing inside. I patted my belly, rubbed loving circles as I cooed a message, a promise. "Plenty more to come," I said. Max insisted on washing his bowl, rinsed it and mine as well. There were leftovers; the stew cooled enough to be put into a smaller pan along with the tender noodles.

"Tea?" I asked, as I watched the large Kanaka move gracefully to the cushions on my sofa. A sofa which looked like a child's furniture under his near seven foot frame. Time had been gentle on my godfather, leaving his face a bronze work of art with few wrinkles. His eyes golden with green waves like limu clinging to tide pool rocks remained bright, inviting. An ocean man with endless stories to tell and only a fingertip's worth did he share even after his long history. Max knew I was looking at him though his back was toward me as he sat and knew too that it was the dreaming awake stories that entranced me most. The stories he would tell because no limits bound his imagination.

"I would love tea, whatever you have sweetheart. It makes no nevermind," he used that signature "nevermind" turned to look over his shoulder at me, and blazed me with his toothless smile.

Sometimes questions were asked outright, especially in the Nowadays community. But, the old ways wore themselves in my bones and when I was around family I was a girl again, waiting for story rather than answers.

"Do you know the 'AlaLA, Pale Wawae?" Max asked as he took the mug of strong Oolong tea from me.

"I do not," I said. Though even when I said the word it seemed familiar. I sat in the rocking chair facing Max and sipped. Too hot. Cautious of the baby, I set the tea on the glass-topped wicker table and let it cool.

"And, Alala?" Shifting the emphasis on the vowels, the word was different and right away I knew it.

"Sure, Alala is the name of the road where Bunny and Chucky live. In Lanikai back on O'ahu." My first cousin "Chucky" was Charles Kaulana Wawae and his wife Bunny, was Bunny Roberts. Flashbacks to Alala Place. Scenes I rarely allowed while awake. A time when it was I who was the Faceless Woman lit up scenes behind my eyeballs.  Now was not the time for remembering. I willed the memory away and listened to Max's voice.

"It is the same word, but in the Nowadays pronunciation is lax. The word is 'AlaLA with the accent on the final syllable. It is the word, the name, of the Hawaiian Crow. A crow, a bird that is now extinct in the native places." Max paused and looked to me for any connections newly made on my part. None yet. I cocked my head, and the kahuna began his story.

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