Hana Hou 2
Chapt. 4
She'd long since grown accustomed to the way she would sometimes hear fragments of sound that spoke of smiles and laughter and sadness. They drifted down from the dry rustle of bamboo leaves and the hollow resonance of the culms when they happened to bump together. Layered behind those sounds were the quiet hiss of moving air and the grain of birdsong and insects.
The illusion of distant words was an artifact of the way the mind would seek order from chaos, the way that in twilight one sometimes saw human shapes among the shadows in the sweep of vegetation that surrounded the home. The limbic awareness was exquisitely responsive to such cues in times of solitude.
It was something that had become normal to her as she sat outside at the table, drinking her morning coffee. She'd not seen Emma these days except in dreams, and even those had been reassuring and calming at times of stress.
Scattered conversations with people that once upon a time were strangers to her began to illustrate something she had sensed as she found her home here. This place was a place of meeting across cultures and time; aspects of humanity would meet and sometimes touch, sometimes not. Like the food and the music and the fragments of ancient languages all revealed, there were no absolutes to be found here.
Even in the stories of the supernatural- something she found herself being drawn to - there was a curious crossing of traditions. These were stories that were woven from truths and illusions. Perhaps it was the way they were told, blurring and subtly reforming, because each retelling could not help but to take on a bit of the tint of the teller.
"Really? I can go with you?" Kimmy was smiling, ear to ear. Sure, she would be missing a day of school, but the chance to see Daria on stage was exciting. She had been invited to be a featured speaker at the University of Hawaii at Manoa, part of a series of evenings with writers and poets.
"Sure, kiddo, you might learn something," Daria smirked. "Thought you might like a chance to look around the campus. You'll be going to college in a few years, and the UH is a pretty good place for you to start. I know you don't want to go to the Mainland for school, but who knows. You might change your mind."
Kimmy sighed. "Yeah, I guess." The only option close to home was the Community College in Lihue, and that wouldn't be more than a year or two before she ran out of interesting coursework. Even though the UH was on the island of Oahu, only a thirty-five minute flight away, she'd be living away from her home. She knew that growing up meant leaving her comfort zone, but that was something she'd be happy to put off as long as possible. After all, she had known Daria for such a short time.
Still, Daria had made it clear that she thought Kimmy had talent. She'd been part of her writing workshops from the beginning, and it was entirely on her own merits. The final selection for participation for every group was made by Carla Fernandez, and there was no question among the Language Arts instructors that Kimmy Lane was a remarkable young writer.
Indeed, having the classes run by her adoptive mom had made things challenging for her. Daria didn't hesitate to hold her to a higher standard, and Kimmy knew that this would make her stronger even if it felt unfair at times. Each session concluded with a public reading of the best works, and she had been included in every one.
Kimmy knew that she was expected to acknowledge the talents she had and to do something with them.
"Have a good flight, girls," Trent gave hugs to them just before they passed through the security check into the gate area. Jane had invited herself along, eager for the change of scenery. Besides, she had some friends in the art community who had been deprived of her presence. They would make a weekend of it.
Daria had a few academic sessions before the reading, something she was looking forward to. Kimmy was pleased to be turned over to one of the younger graduate students for a chance to hang out with a younger, cooler crowd; Jane had swiped the rental car for a quick trip to the Contemporary Art Institute. She and Daria would meet up in the late afternoon and grab something light to eat.
One meeting in particular was quite interesting. Although it was short, only twenty minutes, she left the small conference room unable to suppress a smile.
Originally, the University of Hawaii was a modest Farm Grant College, but that was years ago. As an academic institute, there was a tendency to not take it quite that seriously- after all, it was in Hawaii. Wouldn't that make it something like the ultimate party school? Still, the University was now considered something of an academic and cultural epicenter. It was not surprising that President Obama had spent much of his childhood hanging out at the East-West Center on this campus.
This prominence had not been achieved overnight; it had been carefully nurtured. There was no ignoring the attraction of an invitation to Hawaii, and such opportunities offered to accomplished individuals were prized. Distinguished Poets and Writers in Residence had included Robert Bly, Galway Kinnell, and many more over the years. Such an invitation included a stipend and living arrangements, usually a cottage or private home courtesy of an affluent benefactor's largess.
And she had been offered such an opportunity. The University was flexible about it; they had offered a window of years, should she wish to start when Kimmy began her freshman year at college.
Kimmy could do a lot worse than this place, Daria had to admit, but she knew that one of the downsides was the girl not challenging herself. It was perhaps too close to home, too comfortable.
Perhaps there was nothing wrong with that. Many of the good people that she had come to like and respect had never left the islands. Still, a writer needed to grow in experience before her voice could mature.
The formalities done, Daria was free to explore her own interests, and headed for the Hamilton Graduate Research Library. She knew that the University had a curious repository of oral histories and stories; a few scholars had actually studied the blending of supernatural traditions. She was pleased to quickly find two Doctoral dissertations that dealt with that curious intermarriage.
And why not? The people that for whatever reason found themselves neighbors had supernatural cosmologies embedded in their cultures. Indeed, it was something of a revelation to discover a study of Shamanistic traditions that had accompanied each cultural wave that made way to these shores. These were belief systems that existed in parallel with more mainstream and prominent religions.
The Portuguese, for example, had been accompanied by their faith healers. The Japanese Shinto practitioners too brought their own truths. All of these immigrants did; and the newcomers had arrived in a place that held its own beliefs close. Somehow they managed a kind of coexistence.
Still, they mixed at times. It was unavoidable. Tales of encounters with the Hawaiian Night Marchers by non-natives were common; and then there was that odd case of Inugami possession of a Portuguese woman in 1940.1 That one was pretty extensively documented by the papers and even in correspondence with higher religious authorities in both the Shinto and Catholic Churches.
There was a lot of material here. Too much to even begin to dig in; she would make some contacts and begin to map out the resources later. A few inter-island flights were definitely in her future.
Kimmy was more important right now. She and Jane were gonna show her a good time. There was a whole world waiting for the young woman outside the little paradise she lived in now; she could always return home, and would do so with a deeper appreciation for it.
It was for her own good, right?
1 These and others were collected in the Obake Files, by the late historian Glen Grant. He had sifted through newspaper clippings, interviewed and recorded locals of every ethnic group.
