Chapter Two: Walter
Three months and the house is coming along nicely. I had expected that all of the renovations would be done by this time but I discovered that I had a lot to learn when it came to island life and their time schedule. Temalii had introduced me to a cousin of his, Pelu, who had a small construction crew. The crew turned out to be a bunch of his nephews and friends who showed up for work in sarongs, flip flops and lots of good natured singing, laughter, and food to share. I felt as if I had stepped into another world, so different from Section and the life I'd had as a child.
Pelu's wife and daughters, along with the wives of some of the other workers, often showed up throughout the day and always they would greet me with kisses to both cheeks. They would bring fruits or coconut drinks and lots of bantering with their men, then they would invite me to go to the market with them or down to the beach to sunbathe.
The men too were not always precise with their work schedule. Some days they showed up at the crack of dawn and would leave just after lunch because they wanted to go fishing that afternoon. On other days I would wait and they wouldn't show up until nearly noon, but they were so good-natured and happy that it was impossible for me to be angry with them. Slowly but surely they were teaching me to let go of my past and to find inner peace.
I would run on the beach in the mornings and watch the sunrise. Go on hikes to explore the island. Sometimes I would be accompanied in my explorations by Tiare or one of her cousins. On the way they'd stop to pick flowers and fashion delicate headbands out of them. "Aunty Kita!" they'd call, running over to show me their handiwork. Eventually they would ask me to bend down and they would place the wreath atop my head and flowers in my hair. It healed me to be in their presence.
The late evening is the only time I allow myself to merge back in with the bigger world. Bringing out my laptop I would scan through world headlines, occasionally seeing an article about the new multi-national committee set by the UN to handle terrorism. There are many names I recognize, some with contempt, others with pity, but always I view the stories with a forced sense of detachment, reminding myself that I have nothing to do with them any more.
As I sit and contemplate the changes in my life my thoughts inevitably turn to Walter and his role in all of this. Walter did for me what my own father hadn't done: he set me free. When I'd heard he was dying I felt as if my world was collapsing all over again. Even now there is still a huge ache in my heart that I feel each day since Walter's death. Walter was my mainstay. He was the one who kept me sane during those early years in Section. He helped me to believe that I could build a life within Section. He strengthened my resolve to find meaning in my life, to look for the good in our life instead of seeing only the bad. He helped me to see the real Michael and to understand him. Walter was the one who convinced me of Michael's love for me when I was too angry and hurt to see it. He was my pillar, my friend and confidante I relied upon when Michael was gone.
Walter was in a coma when I reached him at the farm. He never regained consciousness. I was devastated to have lost this man I loved so much. I felt as if I'd lost my last friend and was doomed now to live a life of self-imposed exile within Section. But I should have known to trust Walter. I should have known to trust in his love for me.