Right after his release, Kamolea went to see Lalago. He stepped into the room and asked her without any pleasantries, “What was my mother like? Describe her to the slightest detail, please.”

            “Why do you bring this up?” Lalago was genuinely surprised. She was sitting on the ground, grinding some herbs in a wooden mortar. “First, tell me what happened to you. What was all that fuss about the chieftain’s boy? I heard he’s dead. Is it true?”

“Laggi died because of his stupidity,” said Kamolea with a shrug. “The problem was that I foresaw it. I told him not to mess with the divine parrots, but he didn’t listen. Later I’ll tell you everything, exactly the way it happened.” He waved impatiently. “Now, what about my mother?”

Lalago fell silent for a moment.

“Give me a hand up, will you?” she said at last.

“Tell me, Granny! Was she pretty? Do you remember her?” insisted Kamolea as he hauled her up. “Of course I do,” sighed the old woman. “I can see her in my mind as clearly as if it was yesterday.”

            “Did she have long wavy hair and black eyes? A little bit taller than I am? With a tiny beauty spot on the left cheek?”

            “That’s exactly her. How do you know such details?”

            “I dreamed about her,” Kamolea muttered.

“You resemble her a lot, you know... Wait, what is this on your wrist? Where did you find it?” Lalago exclaimed, grabbing his left wrist and staring at the bracelet.

Kamolea muttered something.

“What are you mumbling?” cried Lalago. “This bracelet belonged to your mother! I searched for it everywhere after Laia passed away, but it had disappeared into thin air. How do you have it now?”

“I found it in my father’s hut, stuck between the reeds,” lied Kamolea, blushing.

“Ah, I’ve always suspected that he must have taken it.” She shook her head disapprovingly. “I asked him several times, though, and he always denied it.”

“Tell me something about my mother,” Kamolea begged.

             “Well, she was a fine woman,” Lalago said, “beautiful and gentle, but a fragile flower, refined, not fit to survive in the rough setting of Maniha Komu. She told me once she was the daughter of a Torago chieftain and she behaved as such.”

“She was spoiled, you mean?”

“Well, not exactly. Different, I would say. She looked down on us and never accepted our customs. She was not much into your father, either. I loved her a lot, though, despite her haughtiness, and I was heartbroken when she passed away.”

            “What about my father,” Kamolea asked. “Did he love her?”

            “Oh, he adored her, no doubt about it.” There was a firm conviction in Lalago’s voice. “At the beginning, they had their ups and downs, as every normal couple does, but eventually, things smoothed out.”

            “I know how my father smooths things out,” muttered Kamolea. “Did he beat her a lot?”

            “Well, there was some thrashing, especially the first moon or so,” Lalago sighed. “Poor thing, she always came to me, seeking protection from my mad son. He used to get unhinged back then; I don’t understand what seized him, really. It all stopped when he found out she was pregnant with you. Didn’t raise his bloody hand to her anymore. It tore my heart out when she cried, always clutching this bracelet and pressing it to her chest.”

Kamolea tried to imagine the life of the beautiful woman he had seen in the cave with a tough man like Akamui. Unfortunately, Lalago wasn’t able to give him any information about Laia’s life before Half-Moon Island, and when it came to the question of Akamui’s parenthood, he simply didn’t dare to ask.

The days dragged, one after another, and Laia’s words gradually faded in his memory, replaced by other problems.

He had overheard people saying that he was bringing bad luck to the island and provoked misfortune. Everybody, from children to old men, had started avoiding him. Illima was another source of constant pain and fretting. He thought about her all the time, but he knew it was a hopeless case. I’m so ashamed of myself that I’ll never dare to approach her again. What shitty luck I had to meet Laggi’s gang that cursed day… I should have gone directly to her instead. I’d better stop brooding over her; it wasn’t meant to be...

Each night he fell asleep having made the same decision, and each morning he woke up longing to see her.

Last but not least, Akamui was still mad at him about Laggi’s death. Despite Laia’s words, which he had almost forgotten, Kamolea still considered Akamui his father and the most significant person in his life. He respected and admired him more than anyone else, and Akamui’s opinion was of crucial importance, so Kamolea constantly racked his brain to find a way to appease the man he called his father. One sleepless night he came up with a solution: he would go alone into the jungle and kill a wild boar as a gift to him. To hunt out a boar was challenging even for a skilled man, let alone an inexperienced boy. Still, if Kamolea succeeded, he was sure that he would be forgiven.

“When I bring the beast to him and throw it at his feet, he will love and respect me again,” he whispered to himself.

At dawn, he was up. He took his hunter’s gear—a leather bag, a flask of water, a rope, his large, double-edged hunting knife, and his personally made spear with a pointed flint spearhead—and set off for the hills.

It was a beautiful, sunny morning. Kamolea established a quick pace, mentally calculating the distance to the peak of the Carapace Hill where the wild boars were more likely to be found.

Soon after he had taken the narrow path that wound through the dense forest, a snap of a twig to his left made him freeze, listening. There was a strange noise coming from the trees. He advanced cautiously, alert, his body taut as a string, his spear raised for a blow. Several yards ahead, he noticed a girl squatting under an aged tree. She hummed and plucked flowers, arranging them in a reed basket. Kamolea let out a gasp of surprise and lowered his spear. The girl jumped to her feet and turned around to face him. As he recognized her, his heart started pounding and the blood rushed to his head.

He hadn’t seen Illima since Laggi’s death. She seemed to be taller now, her shape fuller, more pronounced. Her thick, long, black hair glistened under the sun’s glare. A  flower lei around her neck covered the upper part of her body, hiding her naked breasts. A scant straw skirt and sandals completed her clothing.

Such an enchanting beauty, Kamolea thought as his legs grew soft. He swallowed nervously, not knowing what to do. She smiled and beckoned to him, then bent and lifted the basket full of flowers.

“Hi, Kamiolea,” she said with a sweet smile and brushed away an unruly lock of hair. She looked neither surprised nor afraid.

“Hi, Illima,” said Kamolea, his face burning. “What are you doing in the jungle alone?”

“Oh, I’m going to Butterfly Waterfall,” she chirruped blithely. “Would you like to walk me there? To be my protector? It’s dangerous for a girl to be alone in the jungle, you know?” She sent him a charming smile, revealing two rows of perfect white teeth.

“That’s my point exactly,” stammered Kamolea. “You must be courageous, rambling like that!” She just smiled and shrugged.

“What will you do at the waterfall, anyway? Do you have somebody to meet there?” Kamolea went on.

“Maybe…” she smiled. “If you come with me, you’ll see…”

“Absolutely! I’ll never let you go alone. What if you come across Loto’s gang? Let’s go!” Kamolea took charge of the situation and wiped his bedewed front.

They set off for the fall, walking in awkward silence, and the more time passed, the more embarrassed Kamolea got. He tried to think of a conversation he could start, but no words came to his lips. He had imagined this scene so many times and now couldn’t come up with a single sentence that made sense. Angry and frustrated with himself, he glanced at Illima. She was humming, occasionally bending to pluck a flower and putting it in the basket. She didn’t seem to mind his silence. Now and then, she cast a playful look at him and flashed him a smile, unequivocally inviting him to say something.

Kamolea was getting desperate. “You’re as dumb as a rock, man,” Anuro’s mocking voice said in his mind, and he couldn’t have agreed more. Finally, as he recalled one of his dreams, he snapped off a yellow plumeria[1] and handed it to her.

“Thank you, Kamolea,” she chirped and stuck it in her hair. “You aren’t very talkative, are you? Where were you off to, so heavily armed?”

“I’m going hunting a boar,” Kamolea said proudly.

“Oh, I see. Isn’t that dangerous?”

“It is,” he said with a nod.

“And why would you do that?”

“It will be a gift for my father. Lately, he’s been mad at me, so I want to please him.”

“I heard he’s not the only one angry at you,” Illima said casually, casting him a sideways glance. “Is that the reason I don’t see you anymore in the village?”

“Well, I feel like I’m not very welcome there, after… you know.”

She nodded. “Where do you hang out, then?”

“I don’t have much time for fooling around. My warrior’s proof is the next full moon, so I train a lot with my father.”

“And besides that? Do you have some secret hiding place?”

“I do,” said Kamolea. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, maybe I would like to come and visit it sometime,” said Illima carefully. “If you don’t mind, of course.”

“I… would be thrilled if you did,” said Kamolea, flushing.

The rumble of Butterfly Waterfall was audible now.

“I spoke with Anuro recently,” Illima said casually. “His sister is a good friend of my sister, and we see them often now, since… they are together…”

“I thought it was a secret,” Kamolea muttered.

“It is,” Illima confirmed, her face serious, “but friends share secrets sometimes. Anuro shared with me a secret about you, as well.”

Kamolea bristled. He knew all about Anuro’s big mouth. Before he could ask anything else, they emerged into the small glade, which was covered with splendid, sweet-scented flowers. A swarm of colorful butterflies fluttered everywhere. In front of them, the narrow mass of water was falling from the high cliff with a deafening sound into the pond, as it had for thousands of years. Fine mist rose from the churning whirlpool and diffracted the sunbeams into a gorgeous rainbow that curved above the crystalline water.

“Look how beautiful it is, Kamolea,” said Illima quietly and took him by the hand. By her touch, a jolt of excitement ran through his body. She led him several steps toward the water, stopped, and turned to him. Kamolea stood speechless. She watched him tenderly now, her big black eyes mesmerizing, filled with moisture and longing.

“This place has always filled me with happiness,” she said, her face inches from his, as she tried to speak near to his ear. “It is the most romantic, beautiful, and breathtaking scenery, a perfect setting for us to start our love story. A new beginning—that’s your name’s meaning, isn’t it, Kamolea?” She squeezed his hand and smiled at him, her gaze intense, drinking him in with her eyes. She lifted herself on tiptoes, kissed him on the mouth, and slowly withdrew. Kamolea stayed dumbstruck, his mouth half-opened, his cheeks burning.

“I love you, Kamolea,” he heard her say, and before he fully understood what was going on, their lips melted into each other. At that moment, the heavens opened and a ray of incredible happiness lit up Kamolea’s heart. The roar of the waterfall, the sweet scent in the air, the butterflies, the rainbow, and the honey taste of Illima’s lips spun him in a magic whirl and exploded in his chest like a volcano of glowing lava.

The next thing he remembered was that they lay on the soft meadow, wrapped in a cover of flowers and losing themselves in each other’s eyes. The buzzing of the insects and the fragrance of the blossoms made them dizzy with happiness. With many breaks between long, passionate kisses, Illima told him how once Anuro, trying to impress his half-sister, spilled the beans about Kamolea’s secret love. Kala, naturally, reported it to Kalani who immediately blabbed it out to Illima. The latter couldn’t believe her luck, as she had liked Kamolea since the moment she met him for the first time in Anuro’s hut a long time ago. Kamolea didn’t remember their first meeting.

“Oh, I’m not surprised, we were still kids, but you impressed me a lot back then,” Illima said and fondled his face.

He told her in turn how he had sneaked up on her at the Frog Lake and fallen in love with her.

“I wanted to tell you so many times, but I never dare to do it, especially after Laggi’s death,” he said. “But tell me, Illima, how did you know where to meet me today?”

“I’ve been stalking you for days,” she admitted. “Every morning I sneaked around your hut and waited to see what you were doing and where you were going. I suspected you had some kind of hidden place on the north shore, but you were always so quick I never could catch up with you… Besides, I wanted to bring you to Butterfly Waterfall, and your place was in the opposite direction. But last night, I had a dream, and a voice explained to me what I should do to meet you…”

“Tell me about that!” cried Kamolea excitedly.

“It was so weird! You had been gone for a long, long time and I had been waiting for you day after day, longing, watching the horizon, and begging the sea to return you to me safe and sound. I was sure you’d be back one day, but it took an eternity, and my patience was wearing thin. Then I heard a voice coming from above that told me I must wait for you, whatever it takes, and that I’m not to give myself to any other man but you.

“Next, I found myself in a terrible place. I think it was a cave, dark and hot, with steam coming from the earth. There was some awful creature with me, something between animal and human, hardly reaching my chest in height. It screamed like mad. Along with this thing, I prayed for your return to some weird god that was not Kepolo. And then, one day, you came back, strong and handsome, even though your face was disfigured and covered with terrible scars. Despite that, I loved you so much! Finally, the same voice told me to meet you in the morning in the jungle.

“‘Tell him about your feelings, because you’re running out of time,’ it resounded in my head, and I saw the exact place under that tree where you found me today, can you imagine?”

 “Yes, I agree that’s weird,” Kamolea said. “Listen, it’s getting hot. Let’s take a dip in the lake.”

“Superb idea!”

They ran and jumped into the water with joyful cries. The rainbow shone above their heads like a celestial gate. They slipped under the roaring jet, and hugged and kissed as the water drummed over their heads, but when Kamolea began to grope her more aggressively, she wriggled like an eel and got out.

They spent the entire day together, talking and kissing until the sun sank, and the first stars started winking in the ink-blue sky.

The night brought unknown magic to their passion. During the day, Illima firmly refused his advances beyond kisses, but now he started kissing her fervently and his hands were all over her. His groin ached and he couldn’t wait anymore. Only, his lack of experience was obvious. He tried to climb on top of her, reaching between her legs, but she suddenly stopped kissing him, pushed him slightly, grabbed his hand, and firmly put it aside.

“Let’s not do it on our first meeting,” she said. “I want our memory of it to be romantic and perfect.”

“Let’s do it tomorrow then?” Kamolea proposed.

“No, I’m still not feeling ready,” said Illima, smiling shyly. “I’d prefer it if we did it after your warrior’s proof—this way, you will be already a real man, not a boy, and it means that you could take care of me. And you have to ask my father for permission; there’s no way around that.”

“Do you think he’ll agree? I mean, with all the stupid rumors about me floating around the village…”

“Don’t worry about that.” Illima waved her hand dismissively. “The only thing that matters to him is that Akamui is your father. He is so desperate to work his way up, my poor dad.”

They sank into silence for a while, staring at the stars.

“Do you see the brightest star just above us?” asked Illima at last. “That is my favorite one. Sometimes I pray to her instead of Kepolo, and I think it works better.”

“Yes, Lalago told me that its name is Alina. Do you know the legend?” asked Kamolea.

“I do. But I’m surprised that you know it, too. Men don’t like it, and women keep it to themselves.”

“Yes, my granny warned me about that. But my father said this is only old women’s talk, pure nonsense.”

“I don’t care,” said Illima. “But I promise you now before Alina the Brightest and her three daughters that I’ll be your faithful spouse forever, no matter what others say or think about you. And if my dream happens to be true and I need to wait for you to return, I vow that I’ll be waiting for you until my death, praying to Alina day and night to bring you back home safe and sound.” 

“And I will be your hero, always faithful to you, and you’ll be my beloved wife until my death!” Kamolea exclaimed, and they sealed their vows with a passionate kiss.

They lay still for some time, then Kamolea said, “I’m getting hungry, my love. It’s been a long day. Let’s go to the village.”

“Shh. Don’t speak about grub, silly! You’ll spoil everything.” Illima kissed him and pressed her forefinger to his lips. “Don’t protest, my love. We’ll spend the night here, lying under the stars, praying to Alina to give us a long and happy life together and many children.”

 

 

[1] A tropical flour with bright colors.