Chapter 1
Retribution
Tradewinds blew across the rolling green of lush
landscape, bringing with them the sweet melancholy smell of the
tropical autumn. In almost every respect the surrounding features
of the land mimmicked that of the great North American ranges.
Endless seas of rippling green grass spreading to the horizon,
covering the sacred ground of Hawaii like a carpet of swaying
grace. Polynesian sacred ground. Earth tread upon by the
magnificent Kahunas and royal monarchs of the ancient kingdom
of Hawaii. But digression often fails to ressurect the past with
adequate respect. Therefore our tale shall not begin in the ancient
era of kings and gods, but instead in the year 1785. A time long
after the regal traipsing of kings. A time when all of Hawaii
seemed to sawy to the coming of a modern breeze, it’s ryhthms
fueled by men and women hardened by the realities of the modern
marketplace and it’s fast paced trappings. A time dominated by
the Paniolo (Hawaiian Cowboy).
Men like Levi Kahana. A tall, dark, and on a good day,
almost handsome man. Possessed of a face adorned with rounded
features. Features inherited from the blooded Ali’i or royalty of
this ancient land, with high sweeping forehead, large round eyes;
brown and piercing. A wide proud nose with flaring nostrils, and a
mouth crowned by a pair of full thick lips and a jutting jawline that
framed his face in regal solidness.
He stood well over six feet tall and was built powerfully.
Any man would think hard before confronting this brooding
paniolo. Not many had ever tried. At least not it the civilized
parts of the territory. Here men like Levi held sway over their
communities. Kept them peaceful and free of corruption.
But there was another side to this land. A darker more
sinister side to the commerce of this island nation.
Outlaws! Yes indeed, even here in paradise they reared
their ugly heads. Even here they roamed and pillaged like their
counter parts on the great plains of the American west. Ruthless
men equal to the task that was the course of law and order. Men
who would corrupt society for the sheer pleasure of the chore.
Men like Kalani Makawela. A despicable, loathsome, worm of a
man. Reputed to have killed more than forty men.
His heinous deeds were known through-out the land. From
Hilo Bay to the Kohala Mountains. From South Point to the
rolling hills of Kamuela. A legend had grown and prospered in
fact. A legend of an invincible character of mystical strength and
cunning. People were at the same time appalled and fascinated by
this demon outlaw. Unless and until they had the bad luck to
run-up against him in the flesh. Only then would the reality of his
brutality come to bare.
Levi Kahana and Kalani Makawela. No two men could be
more different from one another, yet more closely tied together.
Born of the same makuahine/mother but sired by different
makuakanes/fathers.
. . .
The morning sun burst above the horizon, golden rays of
warmth spreading through Anuenue (Rainbow) Valley like waves
of soothing calm. In the distance Mauna Kea mountain stood in
silhouette, draped in shadows of fading purple.
The valley was thick with grass. Tall tickling grasses that
swayed playfully in the early breeze. All was calm in the
brightening dawn.
Some ways away, riding into the valley from the west, a
man astride his horse rode ever deeper into the clinging grasp of
the valley’s sweetly dancing strands. The aerate glow of the rising
sun clothed the rider in a brilliant armor of light, his steed equally
illuminated.
As the glare of the sun spread away with age it was clear
that the rider was Levi Kahana himself, sometimes called Storm
for the fiery temper he’d display on occassion, though only his
closest friends dared use the moniker.
His destination was obvious. He rode toward his cabin,
which stood silently at the far eastern end of Anuenue valley. A
solitary structure, out of place in it’s right angled stance, standing
amongst the graceful shapes of nature which surrounded it. A
thicket of ohia trees hemmed its rear like sentinels protecting their
charge. And still further behind these rustling giants rose the
undulating slopes of Mauna Loa mountain, smaller sister to the
looming grandness of her neighboring brother, Mauna Kea. At this
elevation however her real heights were still some ways above.
And still taller then she was her mighty brother who stood to the
northwest, his lofty peaks visible and beaming with the morning’s
exploding light.
Levi galloped toward the front veranda of this his most
treasured place of sanctuary, dismounting his considerable bulk
from the back of his trusted friend and companion Kaholo
(Runner). A beautiful buckskin stallion standing a full twenty
hands tall. A height needed for a master as big as Storm.
“Ah Kaholo, we are home at last,” he moaned, stretching
the kinks from his aching back. “My only rest comes when I am
within the arms of my wooden friend.” He patted the rough
hewned railing as he walked up the stairs which led to the wide
veranda.
The grace with which he turned his tall stature was almosr
regal. “I’ll be quick,” he assured Kaholo. “I’ll fetch my lilikoi
wine and be right back to unsaddle your burden my friend.”
Kaholo nodded his sleek head and snorted his understanding.
By the time Levi reappeared, the screendoor squeaking on
it’s rusted hinges, a cold northern wind had blown down from the
distant slopes of Mauna Kea. The sun still shone brightly in the
dazzling blue sky, but the autumn winds had been awakened and
were ready for frosty play. Levi shuddered against the brisk
mountain breath.
He had unbuckled his gun belt and stood upon the porch
unarmed except for the skin of lilikoi wine which he hoisted to his
mouth for a good long draught. He dropped the bag, which hung
from his shoulder like a sling and smacked his lips, allowing
himself a deep soothing breath. He sighed with contentment,
stretching more kinks from his back.
“Yes Kaholo it is certainly good to be home.” He
descended the porch steps, taking care not to snag his foot in a
jagged crack that ran the length of the second step, and proceeded
ti unsaddle Kaholo as he had promised.
. . .
But this place of peace, Malu (peace) Ranch, was also the
abode of sad memories. Memories so filled with despair that at
times they manifested into physical pain. Pain at the thought of his
two great losses. That of his beloved wives, Mua, his first love and
makuahine to his son Neki. And his second wife, Abigail, both of
whom had died in this very cabin. Memories that would
sometimes leave Levi wrecked with a biting tightness in the pit of
his belly, doubling him over with waves of excruciating remorse.
His only reality in those moments were the grief and emptiness
that suffocated him in blinding darkness. The gnawing gloom of
despair.
. . .
“There now,” Levi assured as he loosened the cinches that
held the constricting leather corset about Kaholo’s back. “Just as I
promised, no saddle to burden your back any longer.” He pulled
the heavy thing from his friend and tossed it over the ohia hitching
post. He turned around and reached for the scratchy halter and bit
that rattled in his horse’s mouth, removing them as well.
“There you go,” he soothed, rubbing his hand down the
length of Kaholo’s sweaty neck. “No saddle to burden your back
or bit to restrict your intake of sweet grass. Go my friend,” he
urged. “Go and feast upon the swaying strands that you love so
much.” He patted Kaholo on the flank playfully and the snorting
beast galloped toward the waving fields of Malu.
Levi watched him until he disappeared into the hugging
tendrils of green that danced in the brisk wind. He lifted the
sloshing skin to his lips for another hearty swallow of the sour
smoothness of lilikoi wine within, it’s velvety carress caoting his
throat and warming his chest.
He climbed the stairs to the porch and sat himself down
upon it’s hard, dusty surface. he sat contentedly, watching the
morning slowly age.
. . .
Miles away, down in the flatlands, a plume of dark gray
smoke rose above the gently swaying heights of the proud standing
sugarcane fields. Seas of penetrating green considerably taller
than those that swayed upon the meadows of the highlands. Here
the ocean spray filled the air with a saltiness that clung delicately
to everything while spreading a fragrance of gently sour sweetness.
But on this day the taint of coal birth smoke permeated the
green fields and smudged the bright blue sky. At least in this
section of the rugged Hamakua Coast.
The slithering plume of heavy gray smoke puffed upward
into the ever larger mushroom as the train from which it bled
rumbled ominously in as it stood unmoving upon the steel tracks of
it’s path.
Men’s voices, furious with impatience, rose above the
steam engine’s incessant hissing. It was the Makawela gang. They
had held up the train. Three men lay dead upon the sopping
ground, blood oozing from their wounds and puddling into reddish
pools about their stilled bulks.
“Get the damned payroll!” shouted Kalani as he gestured
toward the third rail car. “Shoot the damned lock and get the
money! I want the money!” The words exploded like thunder, his
viciousness causing a young woman in the second car to gasp with fear.
Kalani shifted his agitated gaze toward the terrified woman, her
expression frozen with fear as she sat behind the dirty passenger
car window, which was the only thing that separated her from the
vileness outside.
“Joeboy!” barked Kalani, his black eyes wild with hatred.
“Get that bitch out here now!” he ordered poiting directly at the
frightened young woman behind the sooted window. “Bring her to
me,” he growled, saliva drooling from the corners of his mouth, his
hulking bulk shifting irritably in the saddle. “Get her! Get her!,” he
hustled lustily.
Joeboy dismounted his horse and climbed up the steel grate
steps that led to the rail car’s door. Inside, the young woman was
white with terror. No one knew what to do to help her. They
sensed the inevitable and impending doom if she were dragged
from her seat, but they were all paralyzed by the thought of
Makawela’s retribution should any of them stand to help the girl.
“Come here you haole bitch!” Joeboy demanded, referring
to the young woman’s obvious caucasian complexion. “The luna
(boss) wants you outside now!”
“No please!” she begged desperately, pleadingly, her blue
eyes filled with tears of terror. “Someone help me, please!” Her
voice held such an adge of absolute horror that Neki, the young
man seated just behind her could not have lived with himself had
he not stood in her defense.
“Touch her and you die...” he spat, standing to block
Joeboy’s way, his eyes narrowed with fury and his tone so filled
with malice that Joeboy dared not defy him.
“But the luna wants the bitch,” Joeboy tried to explain, his
own tone filled with nervous anxiety.
“Well he can’t have her,” spat Neki. “You go tell my uncle
that this young lady is with me.”
The crowded car filled with gasps. This young man was
brave indeed, but if he were kin to kalani Makawela how pure
could his motives be?
Joeboy seemed stunned by the revalation. “You the luna’s
kin?” he asked half-wittedly.
“It’s not a proud connection I boast. But we are blooded
kin. Now go back and tell him Neki wants to talk with him, here
inside the car.”
Joeboy rubbed at the stubble on his chin, jutting his jaw out
in exasperation. “The boss ain’t gonna like this one little bit,” he
grumbled, turning around and heading off the train.
The young woman looked up at Neki with baffled eyes.
Eyes filled with tears of fear. She clutched at his gloved hand and
stared at the six-gun hanging at his side. It gave her a sense of
comfort and at the same time it filled her with foreboding. Neki
covered her soft, delicate hand with his and squeezed it gently.
“We may make it through this yet,” he said softly. “just
don’t look at him when and if he comes aboard. He’s like a dog.
If you hold his gaze it drives him crazy. Expecially when a woman
does it.”
She was about to protest, but instantly cast her eyes to the
floor when Kalani came bellowing onto the rail car.
“Neki you little bastard!” roared Makawela, his tone only a
little less than menacing. What could have passed for a smile
actually stretched across his face. Of course it might also have
been a grimace. Neki swallowed hard.
“The only bastard here today is you my uncle,” Neki
responded without hesitation.
Kalani’s features tensed for a moment and the atmosphere
grew ominous. Makawela held his nephew’s glare for a moment
longer before he burst out in an explosive laughter.
“You always were sharp tongued my nephew.” He patted
Neki hard on the shoulder. “Now what is all this about this
luscious young thing here,” Maka gestured toward the bowed
young woman, “being in your charge? We both know you could
not be trusted with such a prize. Your appetites are as foul as
mine.” He laughed again, his eyes devouring the trembling girl.
“Not quite,” snapped Neki, drawing back from his uncle’s
rough embrace. “You and I have absolutely nothing in common.”
“Ah..., but that is where you are wrong my nephew. We
have your makuakane in common, now don’t we?”
“My makuakane and I both prefer to think of you as an
unfortunate scar upon the ohana’s good name. A scar we can
ignore but not be rid of.”
“Your tongue begins to irritate me boy!” snapped Maka.
“Respect from you i demand!”
“Respect from me you shall never get!” spat Neki, his eyes
on fire.
Makawela’s glare burnt back, but Neki would not give any
ground. Kalani finally gasped with exasperation. “You call me
upon this train to plead for this young woman yet you have done
nothing to assure that your little wish is granted. You grate on me
like a burr beneath a saddle.”
Neki stared at his uncle. He loved this giant of a man. this
man who had been his only refuge after the death of his
makuahine. His only refuge at a time when his own father was too
filled with mournful despair to be his pillar of strength. The only
one he could talk too about his beloved mother. If not for this
man, called everything from fiend to outlaw to murderer, he would
not have made it through the darkness that had shrouded him after
the passing of his makuahine.
But as he loved him he also hated him. Despised him in
fact, for he knew that the rumors of his uncle’s bad side were all
true. It was hard for him to reconcile the good and bad that was
his uncle. It pained him to be around him now. But it was
necessary at the moment, wasn’t it. Maka held all the cards. he
would have to curb his distatse for the man and his company in
order that he might win this small battle if not the war. He rubbed
his temples and breathed deeply.
“She is my charge,” he assured his squinting uncle. He
smiled and the strain left kalani’s face. Neki noticed this
immediately and stayed the course. His smile widened and Maka
seemed to calm even more. “I am to take her to Malu. She is to
be my makuakane’s maid. With no woman to guide it the ranch is
in real need of a delicate touch. If you know what I mean?”
“Indeed I know whay you mean,” Maka replied, leering at
the young woman, who still stared at the floor. “A convenient
story for a boy who wishes to play the hero.” Kalani locked his
gaze with that of his nephew. Neki stood resolved, returning the
glare.
“The truth is sometimes convenient,” he responded. “But
still the truth...” His jaw tightened as he saw the fury rise again in
his uncle’s expression.
Kalani hated the feelings he had for this boy. He despised
the warmth he felt somewhere inside for this his half-brother’s
oof-spring. But still he could not deny the feelings, and his fury
subsided, his sinister yet genuine grin reappearing.
Suddenly there was a commotion outside the railcar! It
was one of Maka’s men.
“I got the payroll!” shouted the bearded scoundrel. “Hey
boss! I got the money!” He held the cash bags over his head
toward the passenger car. Kalani smiled as he spotted the
burgeoning sacks of cash. He turned his glare back upon his
nephew.
“I’m going to let you win this one Neki,” he glowered.
“But don’t think i believe your story. You are no more this young
thing’s escort then I am. But I have no more time to argue. And
since it looks like I’d have to kill you to get to her, which I admit is
tempting, still I must regretfully decline. Besides i’ve always had
a soft spot for my little nephew.” He grabbed Neki’s gun with a
single swift movement, drawing it from the young man’s holster
before he could react. He cocked it and held the tip of it’s hollow
barrel to Neki’s wrinkling forehead. “Now thank me for sparing
the bitch or I’ll have to blow your god damned head off!”
Neki swallowed hard as he held the surging young woman
from coming to his rescue. He could feel her straining to stand in
pretest, which would not have been a good idea at the moment.
Very dangerous indeed.
“You’d better hold her back,” Maka warned, his eyes
quickly filling with fury. “If she stands she’s mine,” he growled,
grinning that sinister grin of his yet again.
“She won’t stand,” Neki assured his sneering uncle, his
throat dry to the point of rawness, his voice repressed to a scratchy
whisper. He re-doubled his grip of the young woman’s shoulder.
Didn’t she realize that she was making things worse?
Kalani turned his venomous gaze toward her, focusing on
her blazing red hair, all tangled and mussed. Her emerald eyes
conveying both fear and hatred.
“You better spread those soft white thighs of yours real
wide for my nephew,” he spewed with a grin. “It’s the least you
can do for the man that saved your sweet little ass.”
“You pig!” she squealed and hammered her foot squarely
into his groin.
Maka recoiled in pain but not before he had swung his
hand, gun and all, into the woman’s face, knocking her across the
leather seat and into the grimy window, which shattered as the
back of her head smashed into it. He pointed the gun and started
to pull the trigger. Neki grabbed his wrist, jerking it toward the
felt lined ceiling of the coach, jst as the shot went off. The bullet
ripped through the lavender lining and blasted out the top of the
metal roofing.
“I knew your word wasn’t worth shit!” gasped Neki, still
clutching his uncle’s wrist. He held Maka’s glare for a moment.
“You promised this one...” he pleaded without pleading.
Kalani stared hard at his nephew. “To hell with my word
nephew!” he flared. he glared again, gritting his teeth. His yellow
stained teeth, a smiling sneer slowly forming. “Your a real con
man Neki,” he nodded with great satisfaction. “But I see right
through you.” He wrested his hand from Neki’s grip with a quick
jerk of his wrist. He turned his glare on the young woman, her
eyes blazing green. She sat stark still.
“Keep the bitch!” he finally relented. “She wouldn’t be
worth the effort it took to break her.”
Neki sighed his relief. He turned toward the woman and
watched as she raised her trembling hand to her bleeding head. He
sat himself immediately, brushing back her blodd stained hair.
Maka waved his hand dismissively, gasping his disgust at
Neki’s doting. “I will graciously give you the victory in this
skirmish,” he grunted. “Just as I have promised.” He grinned his
grin, inlocking the bullet chamber of his gun and spinning it
noisily, his eyes drifting back and forth between the shiny casing
within and the nervous young woman, taunting her as he spun the
metallic mechanism. He grinned sinisterly as he finally snapped
the tumbler back in place and holstered the ominous weapon and
handed it back to Neki. “Tell your makuakane of my generosity
this day,” he urged Neki. “He may see his way clear to staying out
of mu business if he is made aware of my benevolence here today
toward you and your charge.”
“I doubt it,” Neki retorted sharply.
Maka snorted his acceptance of Neki’s assessment. “I’,
gonna leave now boy,” he announced. “You wouldn’t shoot your
dear uncle in the back as he was leaving now would you?”
“That’s your style uncle, not mine,” came Neki’s reply, his
expression stoic and earnest.
No further words were exchanged between the two men.
Kalani turned and stormed from the train. Moments later he and
his gang rode away in a cloud of dust and noise, the clinging cane
field swallowing the whole of their departure without a trace.
End of Chapter 1
Unpublished Works © 1997 GJB
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