Net of Blood

Chapter 9

  Sunday I woke early. It sounded and smelled like Lydia was cooking soup.

  James and the men fished early, so I got up. I sat on the porch with James and fiddled with my carvings.

  Lydia brought out the soup and we ate it. I’d had more memorable dreams since I’d been on the island. I was going to mention them, but then I saw Charles come out of his house.

  “Kahil,” he yelled. He repeated it a couple more times then went back inside. James didn’t act concerned.

  “What was he yelling?” I asked.

  “For his son,” James said. “Nicholas Kahil Kupe.” I nodded. It was early for the young men to be out.

  After a few minutes, Charles came out again and stood in front of his house. He had his hands on his hips and looked around.

  “Let’s go ask,” said James. We walked down.

  “Nicholas?” asked James.

  “He didn’t come home last night,” said Charles. All three of us stood thinking. The two of them looked mostly at a particular house.

  “We should ask,” said James. Charles nodded. They understood something that I didn’t.

  They went to a house and I followed. I thought it was where Laaka lived. I was beginning to get an idea of what they suspected. Henry came out. He must have seen or heard us coming.

  “Good morning, cousin,” said James. He was being overly friendly.

  “Good morning, looks like a nice day,” said Henry.

  “We are looking for Nicholas,” said Charles. “He wasn’t at home last night.” Charles looked at the ground and away from Henry. He knew that by coming here he’d implied something dishonorable.

  Henry glanced to his own house, then back to them.

  “I’ll be right back,” Henry said. He went into his house.

  “Laaka,” he said. “Wake up.” Then Henry came back out. Roger followed, and I thought he must be Laaka’s older brother.

  We all waited awkwardly, looking at our feet. There was slow movement inside, so I thought Laaka must be coming. Eventually, she came out.

  “You were here the whole night?” Henry asked her. She nodded. “Do you know where Nicholas might have gone?” She shook her head.

  “When did you see him last?” Henry asked Charles. Charles looked up to Henry.

  “At supper,” he replied.

  “Where could he be?” asked James. He didn’t ask anyone in particular. It obviously wasn’t a lover’s elopement.

  Laaka started crying, and went inside. Whatever Nicholas had done, it wasn’t good news for her.

  “We must look for him,” said Henry.

  The three fathers said that they’d divide up the search. One would walk along the shore to the north, the other would go south, and Charles would look in the nearby sea.

  “Would it be helpful for me to look up the hill, and to call Fusang?” I asked.

  “Yes,” said James. We split up. I went to the phone booth and Roger followed me.

  “I don’t think it works,” he said. I thought that I’d try to contact the police there. It was the standard procedure for a missing person. Plus, maybe he’d gone there to party and was put in jail.

  I tried the phone, but got no dial tone. I tried again just to be sure.

  “I’ll walk with you there,” said Roger.

  “Yes,” I said.

  Charles was behind us, preparing a boat. His head hung low with possibilities. The best outcome was probably that Nicholas had decided to become like Roger and live in Fusang. It was very sudden, but possible.

  “I think a boat is missing,” Charles said. Then he shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  Roger told Charles our plan, and then we left.

  Roger and I walked up the hill together. He was used to following the road, and I’d done it a lot too. I thought that just yesterday Nicholas had been grappling with the idea that he had a very long wait for Laaka. Maybe that would have caused him to give up or do something irrational.

  My thoughts were contradicting. I was hopeful that Nicholas had given up. I wanted a small bad thing to have happened to him, so that it wasn’t something seriously worse.

  Was it appropriate to pray for a bad thing? Gei Duk’s torture and murder had been bad, but it later came to stand for good things.

  That led me to think about resurrection again, but I decided to avoid the subject for a while. I was stressed and distracted by my concern for Nicholas. I wouldn’t be able to be objective and make rational decisions.

  Roger and I made quick progress up the hill. Occasionally, I turned to look to see if there was anything unusual happening back at the town.

  The act of walking was helping me clear my head. I hoped the other men weren’t worrying too much. Being on the water while distracted could be dangerous for Charles. Then, there would be two tragedies in the family, but maybe being out there would comfort him.

  For me to calm down, I thought talking to Roger about a casual subject might help. I thought that I would tell him about the dream that I’d had.

  “The men seem to talk a lot about their dreams,” I said.

  He glanced at me. He didn’t say anything, but kept walking. Maybe he was too deep in worry to be pulled out of it. He was the same age as Nicholas and they’d probably been friends. He was quiet for a minute.

  “I dream too,” said Roger. I nodded.

  “Sometimes the men say I’m not following my dreams,” he continued, “or that I don’t dream.”

  The expression “following dreams” was a figurative way of saying that someone has carried through with their goals. I felt that Roger had a more detailed long term vision than any of the others. In that sense, the men were wrong about him.

  However, I thought that Roger meant literally what he’d said. It wasn’t an expression, but really dreaming while asleep was important. Therefore, the men thought he hadn’t followed what he’d been told to do in his dreams.

  “Is it the ancestors talking through dreams?” I asked. I wanted to clear up things I’d heard.

  “Yes,” he said.

  The men felt he was avoiding dreaming, and he didn’t listen to his ancestors. They believed their ancestors were really talking to them.

  “What do you dream about? I asked.

  “The same things everyone else does, like life, people, work,” he said. He seemed a little defensive, so I didn’t keep talking on that subject. It was a big deal for him that the others said he hadn’t heard his ancestors.

  I’d studied different languages, so I knew how expressions were often very odd. For example, there were probably a million ways to say hello, such as in Hawaii, ‘aloha’ really meant ‘I love you’.

  A lot is lost in translating from one language to another. When the disciples of Gei Duk talked about the sacraments, did they mean to say that we literally ate his blood and body? Instead, was that something that came in an intermediate translation?

  We approached Fusang. It was possible to walk through the whole town since it was small, but I wanted to start with the police.

  “I want to go to the police station first,” I said. Roger stopped a second, and then caught up.

  “I’ll look around town while you are there,” he said. “We can meet here.”

  “Okay,” I said. The last time Roger and I had talked, he had said that was planning to live here. However, it seemed like that he didn’t think life was perfect in Fusang. He might be afraid of the police since everyone treated the Kupe poorly, and the police were no different from the others. I was frightened by it too, because the President might have told them to look for me. Yet, for Nicholas’ sake, it was worth talking to them.

  One officer sat in front of the station. It was the younger man. I just had a new worry that I didn’t know if he spoke English.

  “Hello,” I said. He nodded.

  “Do you speak English?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he said.
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  I told him about Nicholas and asked him if he had any information. He didn’t.

  I hoped he understood what I said. His speaking was rough and accented. He might have just faked that he comprehended me.

  Just then, I heard a sound from within the station.

  I suddenly had another fear. What if Nicholas was out last night and discovered charter boats harming the reefs. The Kupe thought the boats never came close, but maybe they did at night.

  Nicholas could be locked in their jail cell only a few feet away, or they could have killed him. If either was true, then the officer’s finger could be itching to reach for his gun as I quizzed him.

  I took a step back. If we found Nicholas nowhere else, then I’d see if it was possible to find out who was in the jail cell. I bowed to the officer then walked away.

  I was right next to the hotel. I went in to ask the clerk if he’d seen anything. After that, I went back out and just stood.

  Roger wouldn’t be done with his search yet. There was probably no one else in town that I could talk to in English, but I could look around.

  It crossed my mind that I could have checked my email. I didn’t know that I’d regret not doing it.

  I didn’t know how much the Sheng cared for privacy. Would I be too forward if I stretched my neck looking around the corners of their homes? I believed that doing that would probably offend them. The Sheng always kept their heads down.

  I applied a lesson that I’d learned from Ward. Instead of looking directly at the fish and scaring it, I looked out of the corner of my eye. I did the same as I walked. Then I noticed that the others had been doing the same to me. They’d been covertly assessing me. They turned their heads away, but not so much that they faced away from me. I was stunned that I’d missed that before. Suddenly, I was self-conscious. The Sheng didn’t always look at their feet, but they gave the impression that they did.

  I met Roger on Flamingo Road. He looked frustrated.

  “They’ve been very rude,” he said. “They won’t talk to me.” I shrugged.

  “Let’s go back,” he said.

  We walked up the hill. We didn’t talk along the way. I thought that it must have been disappointing for him to be treated that way since he hoped to live there. He’d told me before that others had moved there from New Truro, but I wondered what sacrifices they had to make for acceptance.

  As we approached town, I didn’t see anyone preparing for their Sunday parade. I thought maybe they delayed it until later in the day.

  Suddenly, Ward came running to meet us.

  “They found his body,” he said.

  “Nicholas?”

  “Yes,” said Ward.

  “Where?”

  “At Rock Point”

  “Oh,” said Roger. He shook his head and looked down. I was saddened too.

  “Charles and Dad are getting ready to bring home the body,” said Ward.

  “Where are they?”

  “With the boats,” said Ward. We started walking in that direction. I could see Charles and James arguing.

  “You can’t, you’ll be killed too,” said James.

  “I must get his body,” Charles said. He looked distraught.

  “What are you doing?” asked Roger. James pulled us away so Charles wouldn’t have to hear the story again.

  “Nicholas’ body is at the Point,” said James. “He’s partly underwater, so I know he’s dead. There’s no way to get there.”

  “We aren’t allowed to go there,” said Ward. “There are strong currents and thrashing waves. Also Maganta lives there.”

  “Why would he go there?” Roger asked. James looked at Ward for an answer.

  “He didn’t say anything to me,” Ward replied. Other men started joining us and Charles.

  “There’s a story that the oysters are bigger there,” said James. “He may have thought he could find a large pearl there.”

  I thought back to our activities the day before.

  “Would he have been hunting a shark for sandpaper?” I asked.

  “I doubt it,” said James. “I saw no bite marks from my vantage.”

  “How close did you get?” asked Roger.

  “There was a crag about from here to there,” James said, pointing at the church. It was thirty feet or so.

  “I won’t be able to stop Charles from going,” said James.

  “If we all went, we might be able help him or stop him from being reckless,” I said. James nodded.

  The men decided that we’d ride in four boats of four people each. It was a long way to paddle, so the men would trade off shifts.

  I was in a boat with Henry, Roger, and Ward. Ward was the youngest to go, but he was allowed because he was a strong paddler. I noticed I was in the boat with my diving rope.

  After at least 30 minutes, we got to the point. It was where a lava flow had formed the tip of the island. The waves pounded it. The weather wasn’t bad otherwise. The commotion must have been from underwater currents. I didn’t see the body, but thought the strong waves might jar it loose if we waited.

  The boats gathered outside of where the water swelled. Some men pointed right to the worst part. I was frightened just from looking at it.

  “You’ll be killed too,” said Winslow to Charles.

  I thought of the rope on my boat.

  “Could we use this to lasso him?” I asked. I made a segment of rope into a loop shape and held it up in case they’d never heard of a lasso.

  “No,” said James. “The body is underwater. The rope would float.

  There was a rock too, but there was no way that anyone could throw that 30 feet from shore. Maybe we could use it another way.

  “There’s a rock here,” I said. I held it up. “Would it anchor a rescue boat off the rocks?”

  “No,” said James, “the waves are too powerful.”

  “How long is the rope?” Roger asked. I measured lengths against my foot.

  “About 36 feet,” I said, “or about eleven meters.” I didn’t know what units they used. Roger looked back to the rocks.

  “Could someone walk along the crag and pull on the rope to guide the boat around the underwater hazards?” Roger asked.

  “…or a few men?” added James.

  The men decided that Charles and James would take our boat in. Several men would climb the crag and catch the rope as the boat approached. I took the heavy rock off the rope, and coiled it up.

  Mid-sea we changed boats. I got in a crowded boat. We went along the shore to where we could safely land. Ward stayed with the boats. His father had told him not to go onto the rock.

  The crag was difficult to crawl over because it had many up and down slopes. We spread out so wherever they threw the rope, someone could grab it. I was near the back of the group, closer to where Nicholas was in the water. I didn’t look at him, but at James rowing closer.

  Charles threw the rope and a man caught it. As James rowed the boat in, a low point in a passing wave exposed a rock in the water below. The boat hit it and nearly capsized as the water spun the boat backwards. Charles freed it as the next wave struck. The boat spun again and washed in towards Nicholas.

  The men holding the rope passed it over the rocks. Passing the rope was easier than climbing with it. A few men pointed at another rock and yelled. The one with the end of the rope yanked on it to guide the boat around it.

  One by one, the rope was passed along. Then it came to me. I should have been checking the water for the locations of hazards.

  James waved his arm for me to take up slack. I did so. A couple men crawled over the crag to help me at this vital moment. The boat was near the body.

  Charles reached over into the water between waves. He pulled on Nicholas. He let go as the next wave crashed around them.

  “Pull,” yelled James. We positioned the boat next to the body. Then between waves, both James and Charles freed Nichola
s. James quickly grabbed the oars so he could stabilize the boat as the next wave struck.

  After that, the two men got Nicholas in the boat, and they started going back to sea. I passed the rope back over the rocks. When they were clear, the last man threw the rope out.

  We all went to sea again. Two men joined Charles and James to help them row. I looked briefly at Nicholas. His body was badly injured, but I didn’t see any shark bites. He might have been thrown against rocks, knocked out, and then drowned.

  As we rowed back to New Truro, I looked back to see Charles hovering over his son. I turned away because I would cry if I looked.

  When we arrived back at town, I realized how hungry I was. I still didn’t see the Sunday feast preparations.

  After we landed, each man came to Charles to express sympathies. He thanked them all. I went up last with Roger. Charles shook my hand. James was still with them.

  “We must perform the rites,” said Charles, “regardless of what Xing says.” James nodded.

  “The weather is good for it,” said Roger. Then he whispered to me, “Xing would lose it if he heard.”

  “The men have all gone to lunch,” said James. “We can leave in a short while. Who do you choose to go?”

  “You, Roger, Neal, Henry, and Edgar,” Charles said. “They were the first to help with the search.”

  “Okay,” said James. I nodded without really knowing what I’d agreed to.

  Even though the President would dislike it, I couldn’t turn down Charles’ request. I should have found a way to ask Roger what Xing did when he was mad. “I’ll get Ward to bring down the coconuts,” said James.

  I followed James to his house.

  “How do you do funeral rites?” I asked.

  “We sail to Lou Gaa, the island of spirits, so Nicholas may ascend to them there.”

  The other island was a few miles away. It was too far in little boats, but they had one catamaran that I’d never seen them use. It had sails.

  We ate as Ward carried coconut hulls to the boat. Those were the hulls used for kindling. There wasn’t much space to bury bodies on a small island.

  “There is no doubt that you are a man of the Kupe in Charles’ eyes if you are helping with this,” James said. Then he took another bite of food. I nodded.

  I had always felt welcome even when I had gotten Ben in trouble. Now I was considered an equal by at least one of them.

  Roger was also being included. Maybe this would be a doorway for his full acceptance back again, or alternatively it could be a way for the Kupe to show that he was still one of them.

  James ate quickly and left. He didn’t say what he was doing. Many people were gathering near the catamaran. Lydia and Anna came out. It looked like they were going to join the group.

  “I’m sorry that I killed him,” said Anna with little emotion. I was confused and stunned by what she’d said. Lydia stopped Anna.

  “You shouldn’t feel that way now,” said Lydia. “Now is the time to be sad for Charles, Clara, and their family.” I still didn’t understand Anna. I intruded on their conversation.

  “Does she think she’s responsible?” I asked Lydia. It wasn’t right that she’d think that way.

  “Anna, run ahead to be with Talona,” Lydia said. Anna went towards the group.

  “We are all responsible,” said Lydia. “If he wasn’t looking for a large pearl, he wouldn’t have gone to the Point.”

  “He made a decision to go,” I said. “We should be sorry, but it wasn’t the village’s fault.”

  “What other choice did he have?” Lydia asked. “If he wanted Laaka, he had to stay here and follow our customs. She would never leave town. Girls here need a pearl and a place to live before they will marry.”

  “So it is the girls’ fault?” I asked. “That is too much to put on Anna’s head.”

  “I agree that she is taking the death poorly,” Lydia said. “I will talk to her more. However, no, it isn’t the girls’ fault. They too are living under our rules. They had little choice.

  “It is the society as a total body that is responsible. Our customs are necessary to keep our way of life. First, being able to spearfish and dive for oysters proves that a man can provide for his family. Without it, he is unsuitable.

  “Second, having a home is necessary to house his family. It is hard to make a new house, but that is good. It limits how quickly our village grows. We need to live within the bounds of nature and can’t exceed it.”

  “Then why does Anna feel responsible?” I asked.

  “She’s a bright girl,” Lydia said. “She’s picked up on how we feel individuals relate to society.

  “I said to you that it was society’s fault that we had rules,” Lydia said. “No single person is to blame, but everyone is to blame. We all benefit from the way things are. We have little reason to challenge our practices, but we have a strong motivation to keep things as they are so we preserve our lifestyle. We all equally contributed to Nicholas’ death by participating in the culture that made him take the risks that he took.”

  Lydia looked at the gathering.

  “I should join Anna,” she said. I nodded and she left. I finished my lunch and put the plate in the kitchen.

  If everyone was to blame, then I was too. I’d only been among them for a week, so it didn’t feel like I should have much blame, but that was my Western mind’s rational. Nicholas had caught clams that I’d eaten. Also, Clara, his mother helped darn the nets that caught the cured fish I ate for lunch.

  Plus, I’d seen that the Kupe were not much interested in assigning blame or punishment. The important thing was that we all apologized so we could get along together.

  Most of the village was gathering around the sail boat. Edgar had strung up the sails, and someone had covered Nicholas in a blanket. I stepped to the center, so that they’d see me if they were waiting for me.

  Many people were crying. I stood next to Roger. He was by himself.

  James came. He carried a carving that he’d been working on.

  “Charles,” he said. “Here is a gift. It is of Atu. I hope that he sees your sorrow.”

  “Thank you,” said Charles. He set it down.

  “Here is Nicholas’ daily use spear,” said Charles. “Take this for Ben.”

  “Thank you,” said James. I hadn’t seen anyone retrieve it at Rock Point, so Nicholas must have left it home.

  Other people approached Charles with gifts.

  “I wish I had something to give,” said Roger.

  “I guess I wish the same,” I said.

  “It’s okay, you are with James, but I’m trying to be independent,” Roger said.

  After the gift giving, Edgar said the vessel was prepared. It was large enough for about six men plus our cargo.

  All of the men who were around helped push the boat off the sand. The passengers boarded when it was floating. The men continued to push it well into the water.

  Then we started paddling. The sails weren’t up yet and we went against the gentle wind.

  Henry paused his paddling to lower a rudder into the water. He steered us through the opening in the reef, but the draft was low and wouldn’t have hit anything below anyhow.

  We paddled past where the waves began, and then Edgar lowered the sails. They were triangular. The wind slowly pushed us. Edgar and Henry tacked against the wind, so it would take a while to travel the distance.

  I was behind the coconuts. It wasn’t easy to talk to the others, but I could raise my voice to say something to Henry if I needed to.

  Nicholas lay on the other hull of the boat. I didn’t mind not having to look forward at him the whole trip.

  Typically at home, there would be different funeral arrangements to be made based on whether the deceased was a church member or not, and whether they actively communed. In the church’s view, he hadn’t been in communion since the priest was forced to
leave a couple months previously. That meant he’d have a short time in purgatory. However, in Kupe society, he was connected with the others in every breath that he’d taken. Communion had never expired and he was still one of them.

  What sins would he be guilty of? It was not my place to say, but still my mind wondered on the subject. He was following his community’s expectations until the moment he died, except he had been forbidden from being at the Point.

  I looked back, and saw the Point for a second time. Now it was from a different perspective. Ahead, the small island was closer, but still a mile or more away.

  Nicholas’ sins were more likely a consequence of being part of his community. He cooperated in a system that kept young lovers apart.

  I thought more about the Kupe’s idea that we were all equally to blame for everything. The Savior, Gei Duk, had been tortured and murdered. Who was to blame for that? The Savior was killed because he upset the rules of his community. He fed the poor and homeless on the Holy Day when he was supposed to rest. That violated his society’s norms.

  Since the Savior broke the rules, the people had to stop him or risk losing their way of life. The only manner to accomplish that was to kill him. Every single person of Gei Duk’s time was partly responsible for his death whether they knew him or not because they all resisted change.

  All cultures cling to tradition to maintain stability. The Kupe do it, and people where I live do it. I do it too. Why would I suddenly change my life if everything was running smoothly already?

  It might seem that that traditions were small issues, but every decision that we made had winners and losers. It was tradition that killed Gei Duk. Likewise, modern life had consequences on others.

  Therefore, we are all guilty of the sin of repression. This is what led to the Savior’s murder. In a way, I am responsible for his death. We all sent him to the stake. His body was broken for us.

  I hung my head. I felt as if I’d killed two people now: Nicholas and Gei Duk. There were probably many more beyond that. I couldn’t know how the consequences of my actions had gone through the world and impacted others.

  Then I raised my head. It was the community that caused the Savior to raise his voice. It was his parents, family, and ancestors that taught him to love others.

  If I was in some small way responsible for Gei Duk’s death, then I should also have credit for inspiring him to want to change society. I was redeemed because people had caused Gei Duk to be good. It was his actions that showed humans were worthy of love.

  From this viewpoint, the Kupe’s understanding of communion made sense. We were redeemed because we tried to do good as we’d been told by the people who came before us. We brought others into this redemption by completely sharing with them. In the Kupe’s eyes, they did it by giving their life preserving food without conditions. They connected us to the good in them by eating together. It was more than symbolic because the nourishment helped sustain us.

  We came up to Lou Gaa Island. The cay had a few palm trees. Edgar waved directions to Henry about how to approach the shore. Then Edgar took down one of the sails and we coasted to a stop. The people in front stepped onto a patch of beach.

  “What can I do?” I asked.

  “We can pile the coconuts there,” said Henry.

  I hopped into the water and carried armfuls. Roger helped. I didn’t notice any ashes that were evidence of previous rites. Maybe there hadn’t been a death in a long time.

  We piled the hulls into a rectangular shape that was the size of a coffin. Then Charles and James placed Nicholas’ body on the small platform. Charles stood there and cried again.

  “Ancestors, please accept Nicholas Kahil among you,” said Edgar. “He is a man of the Kupe.” Edgar mentioned a few details of Nicholas’ life.

  Edgar stepped back and James came to the platform.

  “Gei Duk,” said James, “we send Nicholas up to you. Please take him among your saints who are the believers who have come before.”

  James then knelt with a lighter. He got the pile to begin to smolder.

  We all went to the boat and gave it a push off the beach. We turned the vessel manually. Then we got in.

  The fire was getting bigger. The wisps of flames swirled around each other in an updraft. It was causing smoke to rise.

  Edgar unfurled the sails and the wind took us from shore. The further we went, the larger the fire became. I looked back every couple of minutes.

  We went more quickly in the direction of the wind. Henry saw me looking back.

  “You can see where Nicholas joins his ancestors,” he said. The smoke went up a thousand feet and then went horizontally across the sky.

  The other men, including Charles, looked back too. Then, the fire was done and it left only the rising ash. Nicholas’ body was gone. His fate was now safely in God’s hands.

  I imagined that the people in New Truro could see the smoke. It was comforting to think that Nicholas had risen. His life on earth was over, and it was sad that he was gone. However, it gave hope to think that something beyond life was waiting for him. It was appropriate to grieve for the loss of life of someone so young. It wasn’t a “good death” of a person who had completed his or her journey. It is more compelling to wish that he had something more coming because his life on earth was short.

  Resurrection is as much for those who survive as for those who have perished. Yes, it benefitted me. I’d resisted the idea of resurrection partly because it seemed egotistical to expect it. I’d felt that religious dogma should be focused on helping others. Nevertheless, I deserved hope too. Religion can’t be only about others, it also needs to help me deal with my own fears.

  It can’t be bad to have hope. It is self-centered to want life after death, but it is okay to seek to fulfill my own yearnings. In this case, I didn’t want it for my own benefit, but for Nicholas.

  We arrived back at New Truro after a quick sail. Most people were on the shore watching the remains of the smoke. Several men helped us push the boat onto the beach.

  I wanted resurrection to be true. Would I allow myself to whole-heartedly believe in it? I still needed to deal with issues that I’d raised so I could do that. I hoped that it wasn’t just a figurative story about our hopes for a future society.

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