Chapter 4

A few days later, it seemed as though I was in a willy-willy. Sarah wanted to fly to Honolulu; the Museum was eager to meet my new hire (Sammy, though I’d not yet hired him); and I was trying to find time to sort and think about my specimens.

Henry’s thesis had made many folks at the Bishop and at UH happy. His defense was duly scheduled. At the same time, there was an opening in Adelaide’s Pacific Collection. It was a three-year appointment, but it would fit Henry very well. He flew down for an interview. The job would begin in 90 days. In the interim, Sarah would island-hop with him to Hilo and meet his family. They would then travel further to some other South Pacific islands.

Patrick and Rachel had begun a pool as to when the wedding would take place. Al said that it would be “After he’s doctor and before they fly back to here.” Weena wondered which of them would change their last name. Rachel said “Neither.”

Weena was reading Jenkyns’ Classical Literature. “Have you ever read Catullus?” she asked.

“Not in the last 30 years,” I responded. “Why?”

“I really like Jenkyns’ precis of his life.”

“What does it say?”

She looked. “‘A young provincial aristocrat came to Rome, fell in love with the wrong woman, was driven to put his passion into verse, and changed the literature of Europe.’”

“Yes. That’s good. Where was Catullus from? Padua?”

“Verona. Padua is where Petruchio goes ‘wealthily to wive.’”

“Well, Verona’s another part of Shakespearean Northern Italy,” I said.

A few days later, I’d straightened out Sammy’s paperwork when I got a call from Patrick.

“I had a strange dream,” he said.

“A vision from your Serpent?”

“I don’t know. I saw a group of Island women wearing native long white wedding dresses called holokus and wearing haku leis on their heads. Sarah was with them. Henry was wearing a pair of white pants, a white shirt and a lei of maile and ilima flowers. On the rim of the caldron of Kilauea Volcano, they committed themselves to each other. Kilauea is the home of the Goddess Pele, a promise made before her is said to be unbreakable. I don’t even know what the Hawaiian words mean!”

“It sounds like a betrothal, not a wedding.”

“There was an older man. A hui hou, malama pono, he said. And I knew that those words meant, ‘Take care of your soul until we meet again... ‘“

“Well, you’ll have to figure out whether your sister is now promised or wed. I’m going to finish off classifying the ants I brought back and then writing a brief paper comparing my two visits. You might tell your dream vision to your mother.