Exploring Aihe's perspective and life on Motunui after Laeli left.
How did Laeli do this?
I asked myself this question almost every single day since my sister left. With my new position as chieftain, I had much more on my plate than before.
My big sister had a brief tenure as Motunui's chief before she left on her maiden voyage, and she handled her duties with exemplary grace and pride. We were all so proud of her.
But now, with her gone, it was up to me. It'd been almost two years since she left. I was 16 now, the same age our mother was when she became chief.
"Aihe, you're doing great. I promise." Dad would always assure me, or attempt to. He remembered being in my position, not knowing how to be a chief. But he wasn't born into it like Mom, Laeli, and I was. Though I was taught the same stuff as my sister, I just never thought I would have to put them to use.
But in the time since Laeli left, a lot had happened besides me stepping up.
Grandpa Tui died. Natural causes, our village healer informed us. He passed in his sleep one night, and his funeral was quite grand.
It killed me so much that I couldn't tell my sister. But in some ways, it was best she didn't know. She adored our grandfather.
The death was very difficult for Mom the most. After everything she had gone through, losing her father was just as painful to her as losing her grandmother.
But even despite it all, life carried on. The village continued to grow and prosper, and under Mom and Dad's guidance, I learned how to forge alliances and expand our trade routes. Unfortunately, that also came with proposed arranged marriages from chiefs desperate for themselves or their sons to be wed to the daughter of a chief.
"I remember dealing with the same thing when I was your age." When I complained, Mom said, "Men always want women for something." Dad would always send her a mock offended face, to which he received a tongue out in response.
During my first few months as chief, one or both of my parents would walk with me around the village and help me adjust to my new duties. Familial disputes were the worst, I hated getting involved in personal, private issues, but since I had a leadership position, people looked to me to tell them what to do—hardly any independent thought.
Dad often came with me as he and I had similar mindsets in resolving conflict; we tried calming everyone down so people could talk with a clearer mind. Angry minds lead to angry words, and angry words lead to even angrier families. He and I were walking around the village when we overheard yelling and profanity. We headed over and saw one of our tattooists, Paka'a arguing with another villager.
Dad looked at me. I took in a breath and walked over cautiously, greeting Paka'a first.
"Paka'a? Hey… what's going on?" He didn't even acknowledge me. But the woman he was arguing with, Kalamainu'u, saw us approaching and immediately ceased her argument.
"Oh! Chief! Aihe! I uh… I'm so sorry you walked in on this."
"What's going on here?" I asked.
"Just disagreeing about our property lines." I gulped. I hadn't had a lot of guidance about property disputes, so I nervously looked to Dad, who stepped up next to me. He patted me on the shoulder, assuring me it'd be fine. I watched him as he talked to Paka'a and Kalamainu'u and slowly began to understand. The whole argument was petty, to begin with, and I was able to help Dad resolve the issue.
"You did a great job, Aihe." I beamed.
"Really?" He nodded.
"Mom is going to be delighted when we get home." On our way back to our fale, we ran into Gramma Sina, who was chatting with my aunt Huihana.
"Your granddaughter helped resolve her first property dispute." Dad boasted. Gramma beamed.
"That's wonderful! I remember your mother's chief training." Huihana lightly shoved Dad in the shoulder, who rolled his eyes in response.
"Nicely done, bro." She laughed. Dad and Aunt Huihana went to talk about sibling things, I suppose, while I stayed with Gramma. We walked around, greeting villagers together. I remember Laeli, and I would walk around the village with our grandparents growing up. I missed him and Laeli so much. Grandpa was at peace, but there was no way of knowing where Laeli was.
Gramma must've noticed the look on my face.
"Aihe, what's wrong?" We sat together on a fallen palm, overlooking a social center, people-watching. I sighed dejectedly, I picked a frangipani flower from an overhanging branch, cradling it delicately in my hand.
"I just-… I miss Laeli so much. I miss everything we did together. I miss following her around, annoying her, and playing with her. And she's never coming home." I felt my eyes well up with tears and tried blinking them back. Gramma placed her hand on my back, pulling me close for a hug.
"I know, Aihe. I miss her, too. Very very much. I wish she and your grandfather were still here." I don't know how long Gramma and I sat there, talking and reminiscing, long enough that I saw Mom in the crowd, and she came to join us.
"There you two are! Everything alright?" Gramma nodded, holding her hand out as Mom helped her up.
"Everything is just fine. Your daughter and I were reminiscing."
"Missing Laeli… mostly," I added. As soon as I mentioned my sister's name, a ghost of a sad smile crossed Mom's face. She nodded and gestured for us to start heading back home.
"Your uncle is getting food ready for us. Everyone's already home." The sun was beginning to set, and people were starting to head home, cleaning up their activities for the day and lighting their torches. The sounds of the night critters filled my ears, the evening ambiance relaxing my mood.
As we arrived home, I saw Dad, my aunts and uncles, and my cousins already waiting for us. I could smell the pork only meters away. Ugh, it smelled so good. Everyone sat in their respective spots. Typically, Laeli and I sat in between our parents; I was usually next to Mom, and Laeli next to Dad. But in the months since Laeli left, the spot became smaller. Gramma Sina sat next to Mom, with Grandpa Tui next to her. But with two family members gone, the circle was smaller.
As we ate and talked, I looked around the family circle. My twin cousins, Amiri and Rua, making stupid faces at each other and bothering their baby sister, Siale. My other cousins, Kalani and Manuia, were seated next to my aunt Pania, mom's cousin. The two happily kept Siale occupied so her brothers wouldn't annoy her.
Overall, it was a very typical dinner at home.
After finishing our meal and cleaning up, we all went to bed. I fell asleep rather quickly, but unfortunately, I was always a light sleeper. I woke up to the sound of muffled crying. I opened my eyes and turned my body over to see the silhouettes of my parents sitting on the back steps, facing the ocean. I could see Mom's figure slightly shaking and Dad holding her close.
"Keoni… I… she's our firstborn… and she's never coming home. Every day, it hurts even more… she could be anywhere. She could be married and having children! And we don't even know!"
"Moana, mele, I know… it hurts me too."
"I keep trying to hold it together… for everyone… for Aihe, but it's so hard… and with dad gone… I feel like two lights are gone from our lives. And we haven't seen Maui in gods knows how long…" Dad gently shh'd her, rocking her in his arms.
"Wherever she is… she has Fetia to guide her back home. We both know our daughter, Moana. She's smart, and we taught her well. We'll receive a message if there's a message to be sent." I could hear Dad's voice crack slightly. I rarely heard or saw Dad cry. I couldn't have imagined how much Laeli being gone affected my parents. They hardly expressed any sadness about my big sister leaving the island. They had mostly expressed pride in raising us so well and their confidence in her skills. Of course, they always said they missed her very much and that if she chose to come home, she'd be welcomed with open arms, no matter what. But obviously, there was little to no chance of that. And for the first time, it hit me how much my whole family grieved.
I remember Dad and aunt Huihana telling Laeli, myself, and our cousins their story, how they found Motunui, and what they did to persevere. I always looked up to my parents for their accomplishments and only wished to accomplish half of what they did. But they never openly talked about their adventures all the time. They remained humble as they lead our people, always ready to learn something new.
And my goal was to walk in those footsteps, even though I sometimes longed to follow my sister.