Spoils of Eden (31 page)

During the long weeks that followed, Candace occasionally poured out her heart to Eden. “At least the epidemic had thwarted the luau Grandfather intended to give as a public show of Oliver courting me. For that I’m grateful.”

Oliver P. Hunnewell called at Kea Lani twice a week, bringing Candace everything from flowers to books, which she loved, boxes of chocolates, and other pleasant things, all of which Candace had refused until Grandfather Ainsworth scolded her sharply.

“I was taught at New England School for Ladies not to accept gifts from men,” Candace had told him loftily.

“This
man is Oliver P. Hunnewell, son of the wealthiest planter in California
and
Oahu,” Grandfather corrected her. “You are permitted to accept
his
boxes of chocolates and books.”

Zachary, too, found his love life detoured in unwelcome directions. Oliver’s younger sister, Claudia Hunnewell, was to become engaged to Zachary after her return from a one-year grand tour of Europe. The day was growing ever nearer. Zachary, however, wanted the cool, fair-headed, and restive Bunny Judson, who was now in San Francisco with her uncle, Parker Judson, while her mother approached her last days on earth.

“Maybe
I should just pack up and go to the Bay City,” Zachary told both Eden and Candace one morning at breakfast on the Kea Lani lanai. He frowned.
“Maybe
I should try to work for the
Bay Times
there. Show Silas he’s not the only one who can write for a
newspaper in San Francisco.
Maybe
Townsend would regret my leaving Honolulu … and Grandfather, too. The way they badger me and praise Silas, you’d think they
wanted
me to leave the Islands. Who knows,
maybe
Bunny would come to see
me
as the man she could turn to in her time of sorrow.”

“Maybe,” Candace said wearily. Eden smothered a laugh.

The days crawled by, and when Eden’s thoughts turned to Rafe, she struggled with the ongoing conflict that lay between them, growing daily. The engagement ring was still on her finger. Shed kept it on, so she told herself, because shed had no opportunity to give it back to him. There was much on Eden’s mind, but now that she was working with her father at Kalihi, there was little time to search for answers to the questions hounding her. Had Rafe ever found Ling? What had happened to Ling? He was no longer seen on the road with his hackney, waiting to drive her and other hospital staff around Honolulu. Did he remain at Kea Lani with his family, pining for number seven son? Her heart was heavy for him, and she prayed for him, hoping to again have the opportunity to bring him to the Savior, where he would find the source of eternal life.

As soon as I return to Kea Lani, I must make an effort to locate him
.

Eden was proud to see Dr. Jerome welcomed back to his long-vacated position in the research department of Kalihi Hospital with glad handshakes from Dr. Bolton and all those who had known him in the past. His return, she knew, was needed to provide a base from which to influence the Board of Health to grant permission for the clinic on Kalawao. He’d brought Herald with him to the hospital as his personal assistant, though there were questions about Herald Hartley’s medical credentials from Dr. Bolton’s staff, which Eden had discovered quite by accident. Mentioning this oddity to her father, he merely patted her shoulder as he was accustomed to doing
when he thought she was unduly upset about something unimportant. He told her Herald had gotten his certification in India, and somehow the records had been destroyed in flood waters during the monsoon season.

When it came to Herald’s “vocalizations,” promoting Doctors Jerome and Chen’s research to the Board members, her father couldn’t have found a more enthusiastic supporter. Herald showed no timidity urging Dr. Bolton and other physicians to recommend to the queen, her cabinet, and the Legislature that the Derrington-Chen clinic should receive immediate sponsorship.

The cool manner of the Board showed that they found Herald’s assertive conduct offensive. As Lana told Eden, “Herald would do Dr. Jerome a favor by keeping silent. These Board members are highly educated physicians from well-known medical schools. They look down upon Herald’s credentials. Dr. Bolton has only permitted his presence here out of respect for Dr. Jerome.”

While her father continued to push Dr. Chen’s research journal upon the Board, the Board, except for Dr. Bolton, a close ally of Jerome, resisted what they called “herbal cures and kahuna-like healings.” This angered Dr. Jerome.

“Chen’s journal isn’t filled with old wives’ tales or mystical herbs. Chen was a physician. He was in many ways equal to any of us seated here today.” He thumped his hand on the table where the long-faced Board members sat unmoved, some with eyes cast down, others looking with a kind of pity at her father. Eden was startled by their manner.

There’d been others who had tried to cure leprosy, as well. She’d studied about Kainokalani, the Hawaiian priest, the Americans with their patent medicines, the Indian named Mohabeer, Sang Ki and Akana from China, Goto from Japan, and Eduard Arning, the German bacteriologist who’d received permission from King Kalakaua to intentionally infect a condemned murderer named Keanu. None had solved the mystery of leprosy, nor had anyone found a cure.

“Now, look here, Clifford,” Dr. Jerome said to Dr. Bolton, whose
head rested in his hands. “When can an audience be arranged for me to see Queen Liliuokalani? I shall make my final case to her!”

Bolton shook his head. “I don’t know, Jerome. I can send another message to her cabinet minister, but she’s been away recently, traveling through the Islands.”

Jerome looked sharply at the skilled men sitting soberly around the table in Bolton’s office. “After all, gentlemen, was it not the queen’s own brother, King Kalakaua, who first sponsored my research travels? Does she not wish to hear what I’ve discovered? This research journal was thirty years in the making. It deserves to be printed and studied.”

“That’s part of our dilemma.” One of the physicians spoke up, his voice sugared with sympathy. “It is Dr. Chen’s journal, not Dr. Derrington’s.”

Eden’s breath paused. She couldn’t bring herself to look at her father. She felt indignation rise in her heart. Was the doctor hinting at something unseemly? But her father apparently saw no insult in his colleague’s words.

“It is indeed Dr. Chen’s journal. And I’ve worked hand in hand with him on many of these same techniques for the last five years. Because this journal is mostly Chen’s research, it gives reason for the Board to fund its printing. Was Chen not correct about chaulmoogra oil before one of our own colleagues incorporated its usage?”

Eden had studied the findings from the chaulmoogra, an East Indian tree, which gave a brownish-yellow oil, or “soft fat,” that was taken from the seeds of the tree and used in the treatment of leprosy and skin diseases. She’d even heard of certain cases of leprosy where the patient had actually experienced a reversal of symptoms.

“That is true, Jerome. No complaint is intended toward you or the deceased. Nevertheless, we cannot rush this matter through, just to have you open a clinic next month. This matter will take time, effort, and
money
.”

“We’ll do what is possible,” one of the leading physicians said calmly. “We’ll hold another meeting next Monday. Liliuokalani will
have returned by then. Isn’t that so, Dr. Bolton?”

“I believe so. I’ll contact members of her cabinet first thing tomorrow morning.”

The meeting ended in a dull thud as the prized journal slipped from her father’s hand and dropped to the floor. Eden scooped it up and handed it to him. His hand shook as he took hold of it and placed it inside his satchel.

Lana spoke to her privately, later in the afternoon as the working day drew toward its close, and buggies and carriages were gathering out front to bring the leading staff to their homes in Honolulu. “Matters don’t look promising, Eden.”

Eden agreed, troubled and disappointed. “At least Dr. Bolton agrees with him on the need for the research clinic.”

It was out of friendship with Jerome that Dr. Bolton was trying to make a case to the members of the Board to sign the recommendation and send it on to the Legislature and ultimately to Queen Liliuokalani.

“Clifford’s a missionary doctor at heart,” Lana said. “He always was. I think he’d be a more contented man serving under an American mission board than the Hawaiian government. He has great compassion for lepers.” Her eyes sparkled with life as she spoke of the man she had once almost married. Then the lines on the bridge of her nose tightened. “Oh, Eden, sometimes I worry so about all of this. I think Clifford takes too many risks.”

“You mean by supporting Dr. Jerome?”

“No, not that. I, too, support Jerome’s efforts. But this morning I found Clifford in one of the leper wards having coffee with one of the newer patients. He has the tendency of ‘touching and comforting,’ which reminds me of the errors made by Priest Damien. It scares me.”

When Eden returned to Kea Lani it wasn’t lepers she had on her mind, but Ling Li. She hadn’t seen him around the hospital or Kea Lani recently. She tried to remember when she had see him last. Perhaps it had been around the time of the Rat Alley alert.

It troubled her that Ling was nowhere to be found on Kea Lani.
Shed even gone to the new bungalow where Ling’s family lived, and she had spoken to his wife, Hui. Strangely, Hui too, had not seen him.

“Ling not come home,” Hui had told her tensely. “Have not seen him since after fire. He go to find Mister Easton. I worry. You help find where Ling is?”

Where could Ling be? Was this related to the fire?

“I tell you Ling in trouble. Fire bad luck. Plenny bad fortune. Should have stay in Shanghai running rickshaw. Better than fires everywhere. Dead son. Bad fortune. Stars say much trouble.”

Eden had stood with Hui outside the grass hut located near the cane fields. She put a consoling hand on her arm. “Remember what we talked about in the Bible class, Hui? Don’t trust the stars for guidance and blessing. Trust the Maker of the stars. You’ll come again this Sunday?”

“Yes, I come. Much worried.”

That next Sunday, after Eden attended worship service at the mission church, she took the horse and buggy and her Bible over to the Hawaiiana pineapple plantation. The promise she’d made to teach the wives of the Christian Chinese cane workers was well into its third Sunday, and thus far the meetings were progressing. Her lessons were of necessity quite simple because the ladies and children knew only what was called “pidgin English.”

Eden discovered that if she taught simple Bible stories, the children could understand; the women, too, responded with full attention. She brought drawings with her in a large portfolio, some made by the artistry of Great-aunt Nora when she was younger and before she’d turned from painting to writing history. Eden used these drawings to clarify stories from the four Gospels, such as when Jesus raised the young daughter of Jairus, the son of the widow of Nain, and Lazarus. These profound acts of Christ raising the dead held them
spellbound. Over several months she would ultimately teach up to the crucifixion of Jesus on the cross and His bodily resurrection from the rock-sealed tomb. Then, she would emphasize God’s forgiveness of sin through Jesus’ sacrificial death. “The blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin,” she would have them memorize.

It was a warm and breezy morning with a topaz sky, green foliage, and a green-blue sea. Eden secretly hoped she might “accidentally” run into Rafe Easton, but he was nowhere around Hawaiiana. Keno, too, she hoped to meet. The questions she wanted to ask him about Kip were ever in her heart. But she didn’t see Keno near the bungalow for the men’s class. There was a young Hawaiian teaching from a Bible, a relative of Noelani.
Keno is undoubtedly with Rafe on the Big Island
, thought Eden.

After the class, Eden was putting her materials back into the buggy when a horseman appeared from the trees alongside the road. Eden paused and shielded her eyes from the glare. Uncle Townsend. Had he come to see Celestine at the plantation house?