The Keystone: Chapter Six

“Aloha, Momi. Pehea’oe?” Sid always tried to start with Hawaiian. Although she only knew a few words; using those words always seemed to bring a smile to Momi’s face.

“Aloha ʻauinalā, Malulani” replied Momi arching her eyebrows.

“Yes auntie, I’m late; but see, there’s nobody here yet anyway. I took a walk on the beach this morning and lost track of time because I was thinking about my dream.” She had tossed the bait and waited for Momi to respond.

Momi wasn’t ready to let go of her irritation just yet. “Malu, you know I can’t lift the ice onto the machine anymore; what if people had come?” She shrugged her broad shoulders cocking her head in the direction of the ice shaver that stood on the counter.

Sid knew she was right, Momi was almost seventy-two and the top of her head came to Sid’s shoulder. There was a riser behind the cash register so that she could work there; but, it was Sid who managed the machine and prepared the cups full of flavoured ice. It used to be her grandfather Momi’s brother who had done all of that: scooped up the creamy macadamia nut ice cream to put in the bottom of the cup with sweet adzuki bean paste on top, shaved the ice from the big eight pound block, soft and fluffy to put on top of the ice cream, and then, at last, chosen one or three flavours of tropical syrup to drench the ice. The thought made Sid’s mouth water just as it always had.

“Sorry Momi” offered Sid stepping behind the counter and leaning down to wrap her arms around Momi’s soft shoulders. Aunti Momi was all she had left, she really should be more considerate. This was one of the problems of living in paradise; it was too beautiful. Who would want to sit inside for even a few hours a day when there was beach to be walked, flowers to be admired, water warm enough to swim in even in the winter. Sid let go of Momi, taking the return of her embrace and the kiss on her forehead as a sign of forgiveness.

Sydney, that was the first name her parents had given her to commemorate their honeymoon in Australia, was not a tall woman but she had fine, broad shoulders, honey coloured skin, and dappling of freckles across her nose and cheeks as evidence of a Scotsman in the family a generation back. Her grandfather and her aunt had given her a Hawaiian name after she survived the boating accident that took the lives of both of her parents when she was four. Malulani, ‘protected by heaven’, it served both as an apt name and as a painful reminder of her loss. Sid stopped thinking about it, bits and pieces had come back to her in dreams but she had carefully packed them away in a dusty and forgotten part of her mind, not revealing them even to Momi or No’eau. No’eau, her grandfather, had been Kahu or keeper of the Heiau, one of the sacred shrines; not a priest but an important position nonetheless and she had received the dreaming gift from him.

“So now honey girl, tell me this dream.” said Momi as if she had been following Sid’s thoughts. Sid hoisted one of the eight-pound cylinders of ice from the freezer onto the spindle of the old block shaver that sat on the counter.

“There is a dark haired woman in diving gear and a tan suit. She is walking on the ocean floor and carrying a red make-up case. She is walking towards a beach on the west side of the island; I know because I see the sunlight coming from behind her and the sand is golden. I can’t see her face because her hair is loose and swirling. I think that there are eight others behind her. I try to remember how many other shadows but, you know, sometimes pieces of the dream start to slip away” as she spoke, Sid nervously adjusted all of the syrup bottles. Momi waited as if she knew there were more, “Momi…I can’t say how I know, I couldn’t see it but it was there; She was bringing fire in her pocket.” Sid turned and began re-stocking the cups and the long, plastic spoons hoping to calm her agitation about this last part. She turned to Momi, searching her face for an answer or at least one of Momi’s matter-of-fact but funny questions.

“We must take mohai to the hula hālau.” Momi said, stepping off her perch behind the cash register and bustling to gather her bright green tote bag that was full to bursting and the flattened, mostly empty black leather purse that dangled beside it from her fleshy shoulder.

“But what about the store?” protested Sid, not anxious to prepare an offering, make the trek over the black boulders, and hike up the steep path to the knoll above Ke’e beach.

“Anyone who comes can go around the corner, this is Kauai, shave ice stands are everywhere,” responded Momi in her reassuring matter-of-fact voice. “Who wants to stay inside anyway?” she continued briskly walking out the door and leaving it open behind her for Sid to lock.

Sid was continually amazed at how this seventy-one year old woman with her short legs could still walk fast enough to keep Sid panting behind her. She supposed that if Momi were willing to make the hike she could hardly complain. The verdant plateau ringed with stones was one of her favourite places. Looking down at the ocean flashing through the palms and surrounded by the delicate scent of the many leis brought as offerings would calm her nerves.

“Too much coffee.” said Momi, shaking her head as Sid fumbled with the keys to the battered red Honda Civic that they used once a week to go to the Wal-Mart in Lihue for groceries.

“The woman is Pele then? This dream woman.” ventured Sid as she looked down at her hands that had finally managed to unlock the door. She normally asked no questions but this one had been itching at the back of her brain since she’d awoken that morning, a woman bringing fire seemed an obvious symbol of the volcano goddess. The sacred spot where the were headed was dedicated to Laka, the goddess of the hula but it was here that, according to legend, the Kauai chief Lohiau had danced before the fire goddess. Momi ducked into the passenger seat and adjusted her bags around her feet.

“We will stop at Mary Ke’hana’s for pua melia lei.”

It was all the response Sid was going to get for now.