He came on a serious matter?
The disturbing thought tiptoed across Amelia’s mind each time she closed her eyes during the night. It might as well have shouted. She kept hearing her dad’s voice on the phone Sunday afternoon. “Amelia, do you need to talk to me and your mother?”
“No, Dad. Everything’s fine.”
“Aren’t you curious about the Thurstan fellow?”
“No. Tara introduced us. I told her the last name was a coincidence.”
She felt the pause of silence before he said, “We’re here, honey. We love you.”
“I know, Dad. I love you, too.”
She kept telling herself that was the end of it. A lot of people had the same last name. No need to make a big deal of it. She’d told herself that all night long.
On Monday morning Amelia kept putting a cold spoon over her eyes, but the puffiness remained.
Her sister-in-law, Wanda, managed to get all three children, who invariably woke with boundless energy, to the table for breakfast. Amelia kissed them all on the cheek then turned to answer the ringing phone on the countertop.
She picked up the receiver. “Oh, Tara. Hi. Yes, I plan to come in. I’m feeling better but didn’t get much sleep.” She listened for a moment along with watching six-year-old Parker and Joseph, almost four, grabbing for the syrup at the same time. Wanda, in her magical way, retrieved the bottle, saying, “Let me.”
After thanking Tara, Amelia hung up. Now that the young ones had stuffed their mouths, she could speak for a moment without interruption—maybe. Nine-year-old Ellie rolled her eyes and tightened her lips in her little-mama way. Without these children, what in the world would she and Wanda ever do?
Panic washed over her. That was not something to think. Children lost to a tsunami must be what triggered the thought. Oh how she and Wanda had hugged these children!
“Amelia?”
Amelia lowered herself into a chair and took a sip of orange juice that sat beside her empty plate. She and Wanda had the same kind of conversation after church yesterday that Amelia had had with her dad. Wanda had heard the visitor introduce himself.
“Tara says I can come in later. Word has gone throughout other countries about the tsunami, so the tourism business has slowed considerably. She said….” Amelia hesitated, not wanting to say his name in front of the children. “The man who wanted a tour has canceled. He volunteered to help in town.”
“That’s nice. Want some more coffee?” Wanda offered.
Amelia saw the glance Ellie gave her. That little girl was nine going on nineteen. She could pick up on tension in a heartbeat. Amelia and Wanda’s clipped conversation would have the wheels turning in Ellie’s head.
“No thanks. But I just might take Tara up on going in late. I’d like to see Matilda.”
“Good idea,” Wanda said. “She’d like that.”
All the children turned their cheeks to Amelia for her accustomed good-bye kiss. Resisting the urge to take Joseph in her arms and never let him go, she said to the children, “Aloha au ia ‘oe.” Each one responded, “Love you,” as usual.
The drive from Wanda’s house to Matilda’s was little more than a mile away. Amelia wanted Matilda to tell her which was best—to ignore Luke Thurstan or tell him the truth and face the dreaded fear she felt when she heard his name. No, the fear went even deeper. Each time visitors came from the mainland, she feared that someday someone would come and ask about Joe. Now her fears had materialized.
She had survived the war.
She had survived the tsunami.
But could she survive the likes of Luke Thurstan?
She parked in front of the two-story house Matilda had called home for more than fifty years. Even a tsunami dared not touch the house where Matilda lived, so it seemed. It had come to the edge, even into her yard, but not inside.
Matilda stood at the screen door before Amelia could knock. Matilda was everybody’s friend. She knew everyone’s secrets and told none.
Some said she was in her nineties, but she seemed ageless. Amelia remembered when she was a child and thought Matilda looked like she was on fire with her head of red hair. After her friend Rose died, her hair starting turning. Now it was pure white, as if smoke were coming from the fire that still raged inside her.
She had a mind as sharp as a tack and a tongue to match if a person showed disrespect or unkindness. People talked about her having a heart of gold, like the gold pieces she’d acquired in California when the real Gold Rush had long before ended. She was known for giving out the gold pieces as tips and to people who pleased her. Rumor was she’d given them all away. She was a legend. When anybody asked why a woman with such good posture would carry a cane, Matilda said it was to keep the snakes away.
A native Hawaiian knew there were no snakes in Hawaii. But nobody doubted Matilda would wield that cane against a two-legged snake if necessary.
“Come in,” Matilda welcomed, holding open the screen door. The green fringed shawl enhanced the color of her brilliant green eyes that spoke of intelligence and warmth. Amelia knew she was being welcomed into Matilda’s heart. It wasn’t the first time.
“You remembered the name,” Amelia said, closing the screen behind her as they made their way inside.
Matilda walked over to sit in her timeworn recliner. She patted a leather-bound book on the table next to her chair. “All the names of my boys I’ve met or heard about are in this prayer book.”
Amelia sat in a chair near her. “I’m afraid.”
Matilda’s voice challenged. “Of what?”
Amelia sighed. “Seems you asked me that before. More than once.”
Matilda nodded. “There is only one answer when it comes right down to it.”
“I guess I just need to hear it again.”
“All right. Let’s examine why you’re afraid. And while you’re thinking about that, I’ll go on out to the lanai.” She rose from the chair and adjusted the shawl so that the fringe fell gracefully along the flowered silk blouse she wore with dark green slacks. Matilda had been the first person on the island to wear pants for occasions other than work. But she had been a fashion setter in her younger days when she’d owned a dress shop in Hilo. Everyone had made do with their clothing during the war, and Matilda had shared much of hers.
Matilda picked up the prayer book. “Pour us a cup of that pineapple herbal tea, will you? The pot’s on.”
Amelia poured the tea. Being near Matilda and breathing in the fruity aroma of the tea were already having a calming effect. She took the cups to the lanai and set them on a small table in front of a wicker couch and chairs.
Looking out at the lush foliage with its sweet-smelling flowers, Amelia knew Matilda had brought her out here for the purpose of causing her to think of the beauty and perfection of this setting. Beyond the lawn, as green as Matilda’s eyes, stood stately palms with their fanlike branches swaying gently in the bright blue sky. Many times in her young life, Amelia had played on that lawn, and she knew the closeness of the narrow beach to the wide blue ocean, calm and peaceful today.
After a long moment, Amelia propped the pillow on a rounded side of the wicker chair so she could better observe Matilda. She’d done that, too, as a child and had drawn her feet up. She’d always felt safe around Matilda. Even fallen asleep at times. She took a sip of the tea and set the cup on the saucer and leaned back.
Amelia struggled with what to say. “I’ve been afraid something like this might happen. Involvement with those people from the mainland can only mean trouble. I’m afraid this Luke Thurstan knows … something.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Tara said he asked about Pastor Grant in Hilo.”
Matilda looked at her for a long moment over the rim of her cup and then set it down. “And that’s never happened before?”
“Quite often.” The realization made her smile. Before and after the war. Many who had gone to seminary with her dad or heard him lecture on the mainland had visited him on the island. She had to consciously will her head to quit bobbing.
Fear quickly overcame that moment of relief. “But Tara told him my last name. He asked for my dad but didn’t seem to have any particular business with him. I think he was looking for me.”
“And what could he know about you?”
If Joe had written home about her, what could he have said? She shrugged. “My name? But this Luke said he came here on a serious matter.”
Matilda nodded. “And for what serious matter do most people come here from the mainland?”
The answer was obvious. “To see Pearl Harbor. Oh, Matilda, after Joe died, I tried to make the right decision for all involved.” She blinked away the moisture threatening her eyes. Crying wouldn’t help anything. “Do you think God is getting ready to punish me?”
Matilda’s kind gaze held a reprimand. “God doesn’t want to hurt you. He loves you. Now, let’s get back to this Luke person. What is the most logical reason he’s here?”
“Tara said he wanted a tour, so I think he probably wants to see where his brother died.”
“You’re sure that’s his brother?”
Amelia nodded. “Joe mentioned him. And … there’s a resemblance.”
“All right,” Matilda said. “Reason this out. Luke wants to feel close to his brother. Do you think he believes the name of Thurstan is coincidental?”
“I wouldn’t.”
“So you’re afraid of the truth coming out.” “Oh, Matilda. I don’t want anyone to be hurt more than they have.”
“All right,” Matilda said in her forthright way. “You’re afraid of doing and saying anything. And you’re afraid of not doing and not saying anything. So tell me your greatest fear.”
Amelia had known that was coming. Matilda had said it almost five years ago. And of course she knew what she feared. Luke Thurstan had already volunteered to help with the work in Hilo. Was he so generous with his time? Or was he curious about her?
What would he learn if he began to ask questions?
What would he think if she told him … nothing? It wasn’t as if she’d been asked anything.
And who in their right mind would ask the kind of question she would need to lie about? If someone asked, that meant they weren’t in their right mind, so she wouldn’t be obligated to answer.
Her thoughts had not been so muddled since just after the attack on Pearl Harbor. But Matilda was waiting for her answer. What did she fear?
“Fear itself?” Amelia whispered.
Matilda smiled. But Amelia felt the ocean waves churning in her stomach. “Like you told me before. You don’t run and hide. You face life head on, and those who oppose you can just step out of the way.”
“Yes. And what’s the first thing to do?”
Amelia knew. She slipped from her chair and onto her knees and grasped Matilda’s hand. A hand that was not the hand of an old woman. It was the hand of comfort.
Matilda prayed aloud, as she had so many years ago, that Amelia would make the right decisions. Amelia’s tears soaked the rings on the dear woman’s fingers.
Amelia tried not to fear. She knew God was in control. But war came. Tsunamis came. And so had … Luke Thurstan.