Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
Reid, seated in the co-pilot’s seat, spoke to Maliea throughout the flight from the Big Island to Niihau on the opposite end of the archipelago.
“I’ve never landed on the water in a plane,” Maliea said softly into her mic.
Reid chuckled. “Then that makes two of us. As a Navy SEAL, I trained on this island while on active duty. We trained with helicopters and zodiacs. And we didn’t interact much with the locals.”
“It was probably just as well,” their pilot said. “The predominant language is Native Hawaiian. The one to two hundred people who live here are believed to be full-blooded Hawaiian.”
“Did your father speak the Hawaiian language?” Reid asked.
“Yes. He was fluent,” Maliea said.
He glanced back at her. “And you? ”
She nodded. “My mother’s mother only spoke Native Hawaiian. My mother’s first language was the same. She had to learn English when she went to school. She and my father made certain I learned the language of our people. They didn’t want to see their culture die.”
“I hadn’t considered the language differences,” Reid said. “Especially when everyone speaks English on all the other islands. People tend to be more receptive to you if you meet them in their own language on their own ground.”
Maliea’s lips pressed together. “I hope my skills aren’t so rusty that I’ll embarrass myself.”
“You’ll be fine,” Reid said. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate the fact you’re trying.”
It was late in the afternoon when their pilot landed in a sheltered cove dotted with fishing boats. The plane came in low and slow, landing on a surface as smooth as glass.
As soon as the propellor stopped, Reid climbed out of his seat and dropped down on the skid.
Two men rowed out to the plane in a canoe decorated with garlands of flowers. Each man wore a beautiful leafy lei around his neck.
Reid steadied himself on the plane’s floats and reached up to help Maliea out.
When the canoe reached them, the man in the bow said something in Hawaiian.
Maliea responded, bowing her head slightly in respect. She turned to Reid. “They want us to get into the boat. They’ll take us to shore and to the village elders.”
Reid gave a similar nod of respect and stepped down into the boat. Once he was steady, he helped Maliea in. She settled onto a wooden seat.
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.”
Maliea spoke to the elder again, leaning close. Her concern and compassion were evident in her expression and the way she looked around at the people gathered to celebrate her father’s life.
The community leader nodded and turned to receive a heaping plate of food. He passed it to Maliea and motioned for her to eat.
Reid was given an equally full plate of food and did his best to eat the offering.
A man at the edge of the circle produced a ukelele and played a song of lilting notes that sounded sad and sweet.
Women wearing matching blue dresses with crowns of green leaves danced into the center of the large circle, moving and swaying to the music.
The song ended. The women stopped dancing and waited for the next tune.
As the music started again, the ladies moved in sync, swaying their hips and their arms gracefully moving in time to the ukelele.
Maliea leaned close to Reid. “They’re telling a story of an island filled with happy people.”
“Niihua?” Reid asked.
She nodded.
After more arm movements, Maliea’s brow furrowed. “One dark night, a great storm swept over the island, bringing fierce winds, tearing roofs off homes. With the wind, a great boat slammed into the rocks on the windward side of the island.”
“Redbeard’s ship?” Reid asked.
Maliea shrugged and continued translating the movements. “The next morning, when the island people picked up the pieces of their homes, they spied the ship crushed against the rocks. They took their remaining canoes out to the ship.
“It had split in half. The people who’d been aboard had been swept away in the storm.
“Because their homes had been destroyed, they salvaged as much of the wood from the ship as they could get that day and carried it back to the village. They found gold, silver and precious stones in barrels lodged between the rocks. Having no need for such riches, they stashed the barrels in a cave and worked on rebuilding and reinforcing their homes with the planks taken from the broken ship.”
Reid marveled at how the dancers’ movements could tell so much of a story.
Maliea continued, “Another storm hit the island two nights later, sweeping what was left of the ship out to sea. The people of the village rebuilt their homes and resumed their happy lives, forgetting about the barrels in the cave.”
Reid leaned close to Maliea’s ear. “So, the treasure is or was here? ”
Maliea nodded.
The song ended, and the women left the center of the circle. The ukelele player struck up another tune as people quietly talked among themselves.
The village elder spoke with Maliea for a long time.
Reid waited patiently for him to finish and Maliea to share what the man had said.
Maliea drew in a deep breath and nodded at something the elder said. She spoke and listened again. Finally, she turned to Reid, her expression grave.
“The villagers and the island owner, Elizabeth Sinclair, lived happily until opportunists came in search of the ship and the treasures it carried. The owner of the island, who’d sworn to protect the natives’ heritage, refused to allow visitors on the island. Since the remainder of the ship had been swept away, there was no evidence it had run aground on the shores of Niihau.”
“But that didn’t stop the treasure hunters from looking, did it?” Reid said.
Maliea shook her head. “My father didn’t come to the island following his clues. He came at the request of the current owners, Bruce and Keith Robinson, descendants of Elizabeth Sinclair. They had researched his work locating and preserving bits and pieces of Hawaiian heritage and culture. They knew he’d been interviewing descendants of the people who’d lived at the time of the great pirate raid. Because families passed down stories to their children, my father was able to piece together the ultimate location of the shipwreck.”
“Were they worried he’d find it and bring a lot of attention to their island?” Reid asked.
Maliea shook her head. “No. The Robinsons are getting older and are tired of guarding the secret. They want the treasure moved from its current location to a museum, where it will be protected and shared with the people of Hawaii. They chose my father to make it happen. They trusted him to do it right and protect the folks of Niihau in the process.”
Reid stared out at the people in the circle, eating, talking and laughing. “Moving the treasure would put an end to the constant worry of treasure hunters. The island people could live in peace.”
“Exactly.”
“What are they going to do now that your father’s gone?” Reid asked. “Are they going to find someone else to manage the relocation?”
Maliea’s twisted. “They want someone like my father who has the honesty, integrity and respect for the Hawaiian culture to manage the effort.”
Reid’s lips twitched and then spread into a wide grin. “Why not you?”
She snorted softly, pressing a hand to her chest. “I told him I couldn’t do it alone. A treasure of such great value and the people who would work the relocation would need protection until it is safely placed in the hands of the chosen museum with appropriate security installed in its final resting place.”
Reid frowned. “If word gets out before it makes it to a museum, it might turn into a media circus, bringing all kinds of crazies to Niihau.”
“That’s what the Robinsons are afraid of,” Maliea said. “They want it handled on the down low. Once it’s away from the island and at its final destination, they want the entire world to know the treasure has been found. Then, the people of Niihau can finally live in peace.”
Reid met Maliea’s gaze in the glow of the tiki torches. “You and the people enlisted to move the treasure will need protection.”
She nodded. “I told him about a group of men who were loyal, honest and trustworthy. Men highly trained in combat who fought for our country and are now helping people in need of protection.”
Reid reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. “The Brotherhood Protectors?”
She met his gaze. “Yes.”
“It would be a huge honor to help these people. Hawk will agree wholeheartedly to support the effort. Hank Patterson as well.”
“The elder will need to speak with the Robinsons,” Maliea said. “He thinks they’ll approve.”
The community leader beside Maliea stood .
The music stopped, and people grew silent and rose to their feet.
Maliea and Reid pushed to their feet.
The elder spoke to the gathering, waving hands to the people and then to Maliea and Reid.
“He’s thanking the people for the food and for coming together to celebrate the life of a good man, my father,” Maliea said. “He’s reminding them of how blessed they are to be a part of the Niihau community.”
He spoke again and stepped backward, out of the circle, motioning for Maliea and Reid to follow.
Under the light of the millions of stars overhead, he walked through the village and up a slight hill to a large colonial house with wide porches and tall windows looking out to the sea.
He entered the house without using a key to unlock the door and led them up the stairs to a door along the upper landing. When he pushed it open, he said something to Maliea.
She nodded and spoke, then translated for Reid. “He’s inviting us to stay in the owner’s house and let me know the outhouse can be found out the back door several yards away.”
The man held out his hand to Reid and spoke.
“He’s thanking you for coming to his island, and if the owners are in agreement, he looks forward to working with you on the project to move the treasure. ”
Reid gripped the man’s hand. “Tell him it’s an honor, and I appreciate his trust in me and the Brotherhood Protectors. We will respect their people and their privacy. And thank him for their hospitality.”
After Maliea relayed the message, the elder descended the stairs and left them alone in the owner’s house.
Reid’s groin tightened at the thought of sharing the night and the house with Maliea.
Maliea hesitated in front of the bedroom door. “I don’t think he knows we aren’t married. I’m sure it will be all right to use more than one bedroom.”
Reid took her hands in his. “Is that what you want? For me to leave you alone? If it is, I will.”
She stared up into his eyes in the dim light of the stars streaming through the far window. “I told you no strings.”
“Do you want me to leave?” he asked again.
“Are we complicating this?” She took a step forward.
“If we do, is that a bad thing?” He raised her hands and pressed his lips to the backs of her knuckles.
“Maybe,” she whispered.
“Do you want to kiss me?” he asked softly, pulling her into his arms. “Because I want to kiss you.”
“Yes. Oh, yes.” Maliea leaned up on her toes, her lips meeting his as he lowered his head to claim her mouth .
She opened to him immediately, her tongue tangling with his, her hands sliding up his chest to wrap around the back of his neck.
Reid had wanted to kiss her from when he’d woken that morning and throughout the day. Their one night together hadn’t begun to quench his thirst for her. It had only made him want more.
When he raised his head, he stared down into her eyes. “What if I want strings?” he said without thinking.
She shook her head, her hands lowering to rest against his chest. “We barely know each other.”
“We’ll fix that by spending more time together on this project.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and then to each of her eyelids.
“I’m a package deal,” she whispered.
“I know,” he said with a smile. “Two for the price of one. It’s a hell of a deal. Nani is as amazing as her mother. Smart, kindhearted and beautiful.”
“I’m so newly widowed,” she argued. “You could be my rebound.”
“He didn’t do right by you and didn’t deserve you or Nani.” He kissed her cheek and then the tender area on her neck, just below her ear. “Got anything else?”
She laughed. “Give me a minute.”
“Sweetheart, you have all night long.” He held her gaze, all serious now. “Last chance to kick me out. ”
“Oh, what the hell,” Maliea said. “You only live once.”
He grinned down at her. “That’s my girl.”
“Stay. Make love with me.” Maliea wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him long and hard. “Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. I choose to live for today.”
Reid’s heart swelled, pushing out the hurt and betrayal that had tainted his thoughts on relationships since his divorce.
Maliea wasn’t his ex-wife. She was so much more, and he suspected he’d only scratched the surface of how wonderful she was.
He swept her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind them.