Spoils of Eden (33 page)

Oh! I shall end this letter with happy news! Yes, there is some good news. Guess what? Your aunt Lana Stanhope and Dr. Clifford Bolton are announcing their intention to marry this year. Isn’t it marvelous? A love affair that worked out after many years of delay. There’s even time for a family of their own
.

Is there time for us, I wonder?

Candace

Eden smiled.
A prayer answered
, she thought. Shed been praying that Lana and Dr. Bolton would marry ever since, as a student at Chadwick, Lana had told her the sad story of their breakup. Now, at last, the day arrived.

Eden found Candace’s parting words, “Is there time for us, I wonder?” to be a sobering reflection.

A
s the weeks went by, Eden worked diligently toward helping Dr. Jerome gain the Board’s approval to open a new research clinic on Kalaupapa. Lana, too, lent her influence, along with Jerome’s friend and chief adherent, Dr. Bolton.

Despite all their efforts, they were discovering that labor and conviction alone were not enough to win the approval of the Hawaiian Board. Eden was convinced that a few of the members were critical of his research for personal reasons, and that the more Dr. Bolton tried to sway them toward Jerome and Dr. Chen’s work, the more resistant they became. Herald Hartley’s vociferous arguments in urging the proud physicians to act at once proved to be irritating, Lana told her one day.

“He’s becoming a garrulous champion of your father. Dr. Phillips in particular is offended. You know how haughty he is when he thinks anyone of lesser credentials questions his judgment.”

Although they needed Dr. Phillips’s support, Eden couldn’t help but smile as she pictured the scene: Dr. Phillips with his tall lankiness, meticulous silver beard, and stuffy manner.

“Dr. Phillips is thinking of having Hartley reprimanded or even sent away from the hospital. Do tell your father to put a damper on his assistant.”

Eden did so, and Dr. Jerome put Herald Hartley to work writing a comprehensive compilation of exotic horticulture from Dr. Jerome’s notes as well as Dr. Chen’s herbal remedies recorded during his wanderings from Nepal to the Amazon. They dealt with everything from heat rashes to nail fungus. Herald felt he was doing great work, so much so that Eden felt somewhat guilty. Dr. Phillips, however, was mollified and thereafter more patient with Jerome.

Eden found this late summer morning to be one of somnolent peace, suggesting little threat of increased trouble ahead. Her confident footsteps quickened across the polished wood parquet floor to the front door, where she left the hospital for the Iolani Palace area.

In these busy days, while spending much time with Jerome, she wanted to ask him what he knew of Kip and about his meeting with Rafe in Tahiti, but his harried demeanor and ongoing frustration with the Board kept her from raising the issue. Rafe was the one to ask, when she managed to see him again. At present, she was late to join Dr. Jerome, who’d finally been granted a meeting with representatives from the Hawaiian Legislature. She wondered if she would see Rafe in the Legislature.

Outside in the warm yard, a waxy-green banana tree waved its leafy arms in the trade wind off the aquamarine Pacific, as if offering a song of thanksgiving to its Creator.

She walked along the volcanic stone path toward the dirt road lined with rustling coconut palms. The tropic sun blazed, and the balmy breeze ruffled her dark hair. Eden’s green eyes under a fringe of lashes squinted. She lifted a hand to shade her view of the road. She could almost envision Ling and his hackney waiting as they had for so many months, but she should have been able to stop another hackney going her way. Ling still had not been seen, and no one appeared to know where he was, including Hui. Strange, though,
that Hui no longer seemed to worry as she had a few weeks ago. Was it her growing interest in Christ? Or did she know something of where her husband may be? Eden refused to believe that Ling was dead—of course not! “Put such things out of your mind,” she told herself aloud.

After the meeting with the Legislature, Eden needed to visit Great-aunt Nora at Tamarind House, located on Koko Head, overlooking Maunalua Bay. Tamarind had a ominous reputation since Great-grandfather Ezra Derrington had the grand house built there for his wife, Amabel. When Amabel met an accidental death, the native superstition was reinforced. Amabel had left Tamarind to Nora in her will. Since then, Nora had refurbished the interior, bringing more tropical light into the rooms, and altered the landscape to her liking. Shed hired a gardener to help her cultivate the rare orchids she loved and a boatman to bring her back and forth to Honolulu. Nora’s message to Eden was, “Come as soon as you can. I want to speak with you alone.”

Eden could only guess at what was disturbing Nora. Was it the
Gazettes
indebtedness? More than likely she wished to discuss Liliuokalani and Rafe’s support for annexation—especially now that he sat on the Legislature.

Eden had requested leave from Kalihi and arranged to join both Nora and Candace there at Koko Head that evening. She would have departed that morning, except her father had wanted her to meet him at Iolani Palace garden before his speech to the Legislature.

“To Iolani Palace,” she told the driver.

The driver maneuvered his public buggy along crowded Merchants Street past Spreckels Bank, Bishop Bank, the W. O. Smith Law Offices, and onto King Street.

The historic Kawaiahao Church, its first pastor having been missionary Hiram Bingham, was a short distance from the palace and the Ali’iolani Hale building. As the church came into view, with its cemetery in back holding the remains of many of the early Christians, Eden felt an emotional tug at her heart. They had given up much to
come here and had been criticized by the world for their dedication to Christ. But one day when eternal rewards were given at the judgment seat of Christ, they would surely hear, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant!”

Bingham and those with him had not only brought the gospel of Christ, but they had introduced a written Hawaiian alphabet that was used to give the Hawaiians a Bible and textbooks they could read. They had built schools and medical facilities, and had taught the women that their bodies were temples of honor, to be treated with respect by men. Satan, of course, hated these pioneer missionaries and to this day was using unregenerate minds to cast verbal abuse upon them. How differently God weighed the spirits of men! What was mocked by the Devil and those men blinded by him, was considered gold, silver, and precious stones by the sovereign King of kings.

The driver neared Iolani Palace and stopped the buggy on the side of the street. The name Iolani meant “royal hawk,” and swaying in the trade wind beside the palace on a tall pole, Eden saw the Hawaiian flag with eight stripes symbolizing the eight principal islands.

The handsome palace stood in the center of Honolulu on a wide square of verdant lawn surrounded by a parkland of trees, shrubs, and sweet-smelling flowers. The building was primarily of stone, with tall, slim pillars painted white, and was embraced on its two levels by long lanais with wrought-iron railings. Across the street from the palace were a small military barracks, Central Union Church, and Washington Place, the longtime private residence of Liliuokalani.

As Eden stepped down from the buggy, her feet scarcely touched the ground before a Hawaiian guard hurried up.

“Miss Derrington? Dr. Jerome’s daughter?”

“Yes. I’m expected to attend Dr. Jerome’s meeting with members of the Legislature. I hope I’m not late.”

“I regret to inform you that Legislature has canceled the
meeting with Dr. Jerome. He asks you meet him in the park near the mammoth banyan tree.”

Canceled again!
Frustrated, Eden walked the parkland to the banyan tree, which was the oddest shaped tree shed ever seen. Its lower branches sent down into the ground many pole-like roots to form a wide and oddly shaped trunk. To Eden it looked like the tree was growing upside down, its roots sticking out.

Not far away on the quiet walkway a yellow poinciana was in bloom, along with what were called monkey pod trees and a kapok tree that cast pools of shade, bringing relief from the long hours of sunlight in the tropics.

She paused, troubled by the news.
Canceled!
Ahead she saw her father pacing to and fro in front of a white, wrought-iron bench.

He was tall and lean and garbed like the many other haole businessmen in Hawaii, in white trousers and a cotton shirt. His solitary oddity was that, even though it was humid, he would almost always wear a longer knee-length coat of some dark broadcloth, with a cutaway flap in the back. Also, instead of a derby hat, he wore his usual woven cane hat with a band of ribbon encircling the wide brim. He swung his familiar walking stick, with an ivory globe bearing his initials in gold, a gift imparted to him long ago by King Kalakaua.

Eden remained where she was, on the outskirts of his mental world, for a moment longer to consider him. His craggy face, with its strong jawline, wore a troubled frown. Here was the father she had always wanted but was denied. Then, like a fairy tale come true, he had returned home, declaring victory from his long, health-destroying journey. He believed he held secrets that could help not only Rebecca, but other hopeless victims of leprosy, and he’d never doubted that his honorable request would be granted.

After his return to Honolulu, Eden’s expectations had soared at the possibility of building a relationship with both of her parents. She envisioned meeting Rebecca, healing the wounds both of them had suffered after such a long separation. There would be loving conversations and long strolls with her father along the white sandy
beach as they shared medical information, though yet unproven, which supposedly held ancient secrets for the remission of leprosy.

Did she believe all this was possible? She felt she must in order to assist her father! For as she had discovered, Dr. Jerome’s thoughts were never far removed from his medical work. Even though he intended his research to reach out and embrace all those afflicted with the “dread curse,” as he often put it, it was Rebecca that filled his mind, even at times (dare she think it?)
haunting
him. The singular goal was targeted for mainly one purpose, that Rebecca would recover and live.

Eden remembered the conversation between her father and Rafe, as well as Rafe’s stunning words:
When she contracted the disease, you became a guilt-ridden man. You’ve spent all these years traveling the world searching for the miracle cure that doesn’t exist
.

Eden stood there. She had soon discovered that if she wanted to communicate with her father and gain his attention and respect, she could only do so by becoming as dedicated as he to his cause. This shed been more than willing to do. She understood his dreams about Rebecca and wanted to keep them alive, not for him only, but for herself as well. At times the energy that drove him brought her unease. It was Rafe who had warned that Dr. Jerome’s good cause of so many years had since turned into an obsession.

There were times when cold reason whispered that optimism must, in the end, be folly if not built on a sure foundation of truth. Dedication must be motivated by sound knowledge. Conviction alone, however noble, could become unbridled fanaticism. And fanaticism was like the Pied Piper that led his followers off the well-trodden path to the cliff’s edge.

No sooner would Eden think these things than rebuke herself for disloyalty. Who was she to question her renowned father? He had suffered from his own self-exile these hard years in order to discover help and hope, and would she walk away from him now, when he had at long last come home and asked for her assistance?

She had made her decision. She would see it through to the end.

As though coming awake, Eden walked toward the banyan tree, and her father turned at the sound of her footsteps. She smiled. “Sorry, Father, did I keep you waiting long?”

He came toward her. “No, no, my dear, not at all.” He took her arm, looping it through his own and patting her hand reassuringly. “I needed a little stroll and some time to think. I’m afraid we’ve run into another disappointing hurdle.”

She was frustrated to see the disillusionment on his brow and in the slight stoop of his tired shoulders. The cauldrons of annoyance were set to flame in her heart, so that she could have burst into the Legislature herself and demanded a hearing for Dr. Jerome Derrington.

“This is becoming a habit with these gentlemen,” he said.

“How can they turn their backs and simply go about their business? You’re a man more committed to good than most any in the Legislature.”

“More than likely their business is plotting annexation of the Islands.”

“What happened this time?” she asked, trying to keep her patience. “Why are they delaying again?”

“It wasn’t the Board of Health this time. Dr. Bolton did all he could. Even Dr. Phillips wrote a commendable letter in my favor, for which I owe him my gratitude. It was certain men in the Legislature who held matters up. They desire more information on Dr. Chen.”

“Dr. Chen?” She was cautious.

“Yes. I was surprised that several men rallied two of their fellow planters to cancel the meeting at the last hour.”

Eden’s heart thudded with suspicion. Did Rafe Easton have anything to do with this? She realized it was unfair to think this of him, but …

“This is the second time the opportunity to present your case has been canceled,” she said unhappily.

“I suppose we can blame the delays on the political unrest between the haole Legislature and the queen. A stubbornness has set
in so that cooperation between the two is sometimes thwarted. Using politics to undermine a worthy cause, however, is most troubling. We need friends in the Legislature who also believe in the clinic,” he remarked as Eden sat down on the bench.

Eden watched him pacing, his hands in his coat pockets. She wondered why the younger son of the respected Ainsworth Derrington should be lacking supporters in the Legislature to back his research, especially with the Derrington name so powerful in Hawaiian politics. Could it be that her grandfather, who was on Rafe’s side when it came to Kip, as well as their assumed-to-be-impending marriage, might also not want her joining Dr. Jerome on Molokai? But perhaps she was assuming too much. So far her grandfather had said almost nothing to her about her engagement with Rafe. She might have Candace to thank for that, since it was her marriage to Hunnewell that commanded his full attention.