Chapter 222: Preparing for the Coronation

Thursday, July 22, 1971

I was to learn later that my diving for pearls was symbolic, honoring both Tapato’s heritage and their world-renowned pearl industry. Wearing only my shibu, I was taken at dawn to Manatiku’s main pier, where I was introduced to over two dozen of Tapato’s finest pearl divers. Then, after a few minutes of instruction (Dive, Find, Surface, seemed to sum up the meager instructions) I boarded a small diver’s boat called a shimaI’li, which was little more than a dugout canoe with an outrigger.

I was surprised when I saw that the other three divers in my boat were wearing the same shibu as me. The only difference is that they were all young women, the oldest being not much older than me. For a moment, it was almost like being back at the ranch in Colorado.

“I should have asked for a shibu with a jock strap,” I thought as I quickly waved to the cheering crowd that was evidently there to witness my homage. Taking a paddle, I tried to match their rhythm by watching the bare shoulders of the three young beauties in front of me. Fortunately, we were only going out about a half mile or so. Then, after some more hasty instructions and fitting my fingers and toes with leather covers, I slung a string bag over my shoulder and jumped in. Handed a large rock with a rope around it, I quickly made my way to the bottom, expelling small amounts of air as we dove.

The rope on the rock, I discovered, was so that it could be pulled back to the boat to be used again. Ke’tu, who was my guide because she spoke English, dove beside me the thirty feet to the bottom. There, she pointed out the oysters to be harvested.

It was then that I almost killed her.

Surrounding myself with my shield, I busily set about filling my sack. I was surprised when a couple of minutes later, a panicked Ke’tu, tugged frantically at my arm, signaling our need to return to the surface for air.

Holding onto the outrigger and gasping for oxygen, Ke’tu finally looked at me with eyes wide.

“Does the Prince not need air to breathe?” she asked.

As usual, when I was unsure how to reply, I simply shrugged my shoulders.

“I won the prize for the longest time under the water at last year’s games, yet I think you could have bested that time easily,” she said.

When I still said nothing, she finally asked if I was ready to go again. Taking the stone, we let go of the boat and fell back to the sea floor again. I finished filling my bag, conscious of how long we were down this time. When I thought ninety seconds had passed, I signaled my need to return to the surface.

“Why did you do that?” Ke’tu asked as we once again clung to the shimaI’li.

“Do what?” I asked.

“Look at you! You do not even gasp for air as the rest of us do,” she replied.

“Did I get enough?” I asked, holding up my net bag, hoping to change the subject.

“You did very well, your highness,” she replied deferentially. “Especially for someone who has never dived before.”

We climbed back into the tiny shimaI’li and two of the girls began paddling back towards the pier.

“I guess that’s it for the pearl diving,” I thought to myself.

On the way back to the pier, the girls laughed and talked among themselves, frequently glancing over their shoulders to look at me. When we reached the pier, I carried my sack over to an official looking woman who was in charge of the pearl harvest. Quickly she broke open the three dozen shells I had brought, searching them for the elusive pearl before discarding them in another bucket. Fortune was with me as a small pearl was discovered in the next to last oyster to be opened.

Holding the pearl up for the crowd to see, a large cheer went up. Then each of my three diving mates came forward, hugging and congratulating me.

“If his highness is as good at other forms of diving...” Ke’tu whispered as she ground her bare tits against my chest. “I would be most pleased to experience that with him as well.”

“C’mon, your highness,” Vickie said as she and Adriana grabbed my arms and pulled me away.

I was allowed my jeans and a pair of work boots but had to forgo my t-shirt in favor of an island style shirt that the natives preferred. Except this shirt bore the name of a local company that was helping to sponsor the construction. To me it looked a whole lot like the shirts the servers had worn at the luau back on Hawaii.

Working on the school was fun. Most of the natives spoke a little English and delighted in trying to teach me to speak a little Tapatoan while we carried lumber, stones, and other materials for the real carpenters to build with. After about an hour we took a break as they brought out a variety of native fruits and snacks and juices.

When I squirted juice from my straw at a couple of the young girls that were helping serve the snacks, they looked afraid for a moment, then, with big smiles they began their retaliation. We all laughed as they chased me around the schoolyard trying to pour their cups of juice and water on me.

Thoroughly drenched, we quickly went back to work, this time with all the children teasing and picking on me. I must have had two dozen cups of punch dumped on me before some wise parent simply removed their ammunition. Still, they would wait until both of my hands were full before trying to tickle me or trip me up.

When it was time for me to leave, the two young girls who I had first squirted came forward and hugged my neck.

“We never played with a real prince before,” said the shorter one.

“Yeah. You fun prince!” said the taller one. Then she hugged me again before running off together.

A few minutes later, as I was saying my goodbyes to the adults, Ileana brought a young mother to see me.

“Your highness, this is Poteetela. Those were her daughters you were playing with earlier,” Ileana told me.

Then Poteetela spoke to me in Tapatoan as Ileana translated.

“She says her husband became injured and they had to give up their farm. They just moved to this village and her daughters were dreading coming here because they knew no one. But now, the great Prince himself has played with them. And all the other boys and girls saw them running and laughing with the prince. Now they all want to be friends with her daughters. Thank you, Great Prince!”

The last part Ileana was saying as the mother hugged my neck, tears streaming down her face.

“Please tell Poteetela that it is I who am honored to meet such fine young ladies, and their wonderful mother,” I said.

Poteetela quickly rattled off something else which caused Ileana and several of the other escorts to laugh. But when I inquired what she had said, I was told just to keep on walking towards the car.

Once the car began to move, I figured it was okay to ask again.

“Okay, now that we’re headed back, what did Poteetela really say?” I asked Ileana.

“She wanted to know if you would like to marry them!” Ileana said as the whole car erupted in laughter. “Both!”

When the laughter died down, Ileana handed me my Grateful Dead t-shirt saying, “Here. I thought you’d like to be more comfortable for this next part.”

I knew better than to ask what this next part really entailed.

The girls let me out in front of the Royal Barracks, which were just across the street from the northeast corner of the Imperial Gardens.

“Aren’t you all coming in to watch?” I asked.

“Oh, no,” Ileana stated. “The Royal Barracks is the only place in all of Tapato where women cannot go. Even the queen is not allowed inside there.”

“Well, uh, okay then. I guess I’ll see you later?” I told her apprehensively.

“I doubt that you will see me again until tomorrow at your coronation, Michael. So relax and go have fun with all the other Y-chromosomes,” Ileana said as they drove away.

Turning to face the barracks, I saw Gerald and Kip standing by the entrance, so I went to join them. Gerald had been Kalani’s escort when she visited the ranch earlier this year.

“Welcome, Prince Michael,” Gerald said, grasping my arm with the palm of his hand just inside my elbow, his fingers wrapping around my forearm. This allowed me to grasp his arm in the same way. It was a standard greeting among warriors on Tapato.

“Gerald invited me to tag along. For some reason, he thinks that it might be fun,” Kip told me as we followed Gerald into the barracks. “At least for me anyway!”

We followed Gerald through the great hall that served as a lobby or reception area for the Royal Barracks. Immediately, you knew that this was a man’s world. The dark paneling looked to be teak and the furniture was masculine as well. Large leather sofas and woven Peacock chairs were scattered in small groupings. Displays of both ancient and modern military weapons were everywhere with military maps, pictures of men in ceremonial dress, and even ancient weapons, adorning the walls.

Without doubt, this was a house of war.

Large double doors on each side of the great room led to wings on either side, but Gerald steered us straight through and out onto a large covered veranda that also served as a permanent reviewing stand for the parade ground that stretched out in front of us. The other three sides of the grounds were marked by the two-story barracks where those that served Tapato’s Royal Family were housed.

When serving as a formal reviewing stand, the veranda would have rows of chairs set out, all perfectly aligned for reviewing the troops on parade. Today, however, was evidently considered a less than formal occasion, with chairs scattered around the veranda in clusters, some surrounding tables with cards or dice and drinks on them. I hoped that was a good sign.

To one side of the veranda sat several older men, much too old to be active soldiers, nor did they appear to be military leaders. And they did not smile as Gerald led us toward them. Stopping in front of the group, Gerald bowed to them and backed away, pulling Kip with him. That left me standing in front of them, alone, not knowing what to expect. Most of them I had never met before, however I did nod to Kalani’s father when I saw him. He acknowledged me with a slight movement of his head, but he did not say anything.

As I stood there, waiting, a small platoon formed on the parade ground in front of the viewing stand. Four men stepped forward from the others, wearing combat fatigues and boots, but without their shirts. You could see their muscles bulging and the hungry looks in their eyes.

Finally, one of the old men rose to his feet and looking at a scrap of paper in his hand, began to read:

“Prince Michael,” he read in English. “While your enthronement as a Prince of Tapato is solely at the discretion of the queen, your investiture as the Protector is not so easily attained. Throughout Tapato’s proud history, the position of Protector of the Crown has always been settled on the field of honor. As it has been for over five hundred years, so it is today. You will seek to earn this coveted position.”

I wasn’t liking his tone. In fact, I wasn’t liking any of this. Surely Kalani or Gerald had warned them.

The speaker now turned to the sizable crowd of soldiers and warriors that had gathered behind the platoon and spoke even louder.

“Before you are four mighty warriors who would also claim the investiture of Protector of the Crown. If you will be our Protector, you must now prove yourself on the field of honor. The contests are, as they have always been, to first blood. This, you understand?” he asked me.

“I understand,” I replied. Then turning towards the parade grounds and the four shirtless warriors, I clapped my hands for effect as the four warriors all simultaneously dropped to the ground, paralyzed.

As everyone looked at the four warriors lying on the ground where they fell, unmoving, I turned back to the old men, connecting to everyone that they all might hear my words.

“Are the old men of Tapato so foolish as to challenge the gods with your pitiful games? Were you not warned? Have you not waited for more than three hundred years for my return? And when I do, you would endeavor to treat me with so little respect?” I asked them.

Most of the men were not well educated and became alarmed when they heard my voice inside their heads. There was an uneasiness as they looked first from one to the other, and then to the old men who had been their leaders. When none of the old men would answer my accusations, I called out to the assembled men, “I AM the Pele Solakanali. Let him who would challenge my claim as Protector come forth now!”