The Aloha Quilt (20 page)

Midori frowned and shook her head. “So much of their sorrow was exposed to the public,
it’s no wonder he assumes everyone knows.”

“What happened?” asked Bonnie again, curiosity giving way to concern.

“Some say it was an accident, some say it was murder.”

“What?”

“Nani was very active in the Hawaiian independence movement,” Midori explained. “Back
then, Hinano was more
ambivalent about sovereignty than he is today. He always cared about preserving Hawaiian
culture, of course, but thoughts of Hawaii seceding from the union or reinstating
the monarchy were simply inconceivable to him.” She fell silent, reflecting. “It’s
really the only thing I can recall them arguing about.”

“Hinano’s wife—Nani—she believed Hawaii should leave the United States?”

Midori shook her head. “Nani didn’t believe that was a practical goal. She wanted
reparations for stolen lands, government support to the preservation of native culture,
and a formal apology from the United States government—and as a botanist, she also
wanted a strong federal commitment to protect the islands’ native ecology.”

“None of that sounds unreasonable,” said Bonnie, although she wasn’t sure it was realistic.
As far as she knew, the United States didn’t customarily go out of its way to make
reparations to indigenous peoples, even when it did issue an official apology.

“Nani also didn’t want reparations limited to native Hawaiians alone, but to the descendants
of all people of all ethnicities who had pledged their loyalty to the Kingdom of Hawaii
before the overthrow—Hawaiian, Asian, and European alike,” Midori continued. “This
put her at odds with others who believed only native Hawaiians deserved compensation.
You have to understand, the Hawaiian sovereignty movement was and still is fractured.
Different people with different ideas of what is right and what should be done, sometimes
so busy arguing among themselves that little good is accomplished.”

“I gather that Nani made enemies.”

“It would have been impossible not to make a few, even for someone less outspoken
than Nani. But even so, she was well regarded by all sides. She was educated and passionate,
and she
knew how to speak so that even people who disagreed with her would listen.” She smiled
faintly. “She was as diplomatic as Hinano is abrasive.”

“He’s not that bad,” said Bonnie.

“Nani knew that unless the different factions could unite, or at least cooperate,
they would never make any real progress.” Midori closed the dishwasher and took a
seat on one of the stools at the center island. “She met with leaders of various groups
to help them find common ground, certain principles that they could all stand behind.
She hoped that if they could achieve even one small goal by working together, they
would see the wisdom in putting aside their differences and forming a lasting alliance.”

Bonnie leaned back against the counter. “Did she have any success?”

“She did.” Midori nudged the koa wood cutting board out of the way and rested her
elbows on the island’s marble surface. “She organized a May Day parade on Oahu. Representatives
from community, social, and political groups marched from a park in downtown Honolulu
to the ‘Iolani Palace, where their leaders made speeches about Hawaiian unity. Though
they marched under different banners and shouted different slogans along the way,
the mood was positive, and for a while it seemed as if Nani had achieved her goal
of unifying a very divided movement.”

“For a while?”

“For a few hours.” Midori sighed and shook her head, reluctant to continue. “The march
itself was peaceful and the first few speeches went off without a hitch. But then
a radical group got it into their heads that they should overtake the palace and declare
one of the descendants of the last elected monarch king.”

“Oh, no.”

“I was watching Kai on a school playground nearby when the chaos broke out.” Midori
inhaled deeply, her gaze far away. “I couldn’t see Nani and Hinano—they were going
to meet us at the playground afterward. I saw the police come in riot gear, people
screaming and running—I didn’t know what else to do. I grabbed Kai’s hand and ran,
ran away until we left the screams and sirens behind.”

Bonnie pressed a hand to her mouth, horrified. “What happened to Nani and Hinano?”

“Hours passed with no word. I managed to get us a ride back to their house—they lived
near the university then. We waited and waited, afraid to call anyone in case Hinano
and Nani called us. It was different in those days. Now everyone has a cell phone,
but back then you had to wait by the phone, and hope and pray.”

Bonnie sank onto a stool. “Did they finally make it home?”

Midori shook her head. “Hinano finally called from the hospital. It was evening and
Kai was already asleep in bed.” She took a deep, shaky breath. “Hinano and Nani had
been separated in the riot. Hinano searched frantically for her, trying to figure
out where she might have gone when the crowd tore her from his side. Then he spotted
a single island of stillness in the flood of rushing people and he knew she must be
at the center of it. He hoped that she was restoring calm, but his heart was full
of dread.”

“Was she there?” Bonnie asked, afraid of what Midori might say next. “Had he found
her?”

Midori nodded. “Those few people weren’t moving because they had gathered around Nani
where she had fallen to protect her from the riot. Hinano heard them shouting for
an ambulance as he struggled to reach them. Finally he made his
way through the crowd and found her, unconscious and bleeding on the grass.”

“Oh, my God.”

“It took more than an hour to get her to the hospital because of the upheaval. Nani
had been struck over the head—with a sign or something, we never found out what. A
blunt instrument, the police said. She never regained consciousness.”

The horrifying scene was all too vivid. Bonnie closed her eyes and shook her head,
but she could still see the nightmare playing out.

She blinked away tears, heart aching for the young family, divided so cruelly.

Brooding, Midori traced a pattern of dark threads in the marble countertop. “My nephew
will never forgive himself for those ten minutes they were separated.”

“What could he have done?” asked Bonnie. “In all that confusion, even if he had been
right beside her, how could he have prevented such a terrible accident?”

“Terrible, yes. Accident…” Midori pursed her lips, thinking. “That’s the question
that haunts us. Hinano especially.”

“You don’t think it was a deliberate attack?”

“I think I’ll never know for certain.”

Bonnie shook her head, imagining the violence swirling around Hinano and his wife
on that terrible day, a day of such hope and promise turned tragically wrong. “Anything
could have happened in all that mayhem. It’s a wonder more people weren’t hurt.”

She had meant that in all likelihood Nani’s death was indeed a tragic accident, but
Midori pounced. “Exactly. Anything could have happened. The riot was a perfect cover
for a deliberate killing. An assassination. And yes, it’s quite remarkable that except
for minor bumps and bruises, no one else was
injured that day. No one was injured or killed except for the woman who had brought
all those feuding groups together and could have eventually united them as one. Together
they would have been powerful,
too
powerful to suit those who benefited from the ongoing strife in the sovereignty movement.”

Bonnie studied her, uncertain. “Then you and Hinano believe Nani was murdered to keep
the Hawaiian independence movement fractured?”

“We have no proof.” Midori lifted her hands and let them fall to her lap, a gesture
that suggested years of fruitless searching. “The police never found a weapon or had
any description of it other than ‘blunt instrument,’ and no suspects were ever named
or questioned except for the leaders of the different groups invited to participate
in the unity celebration.”

Perplexed, Bonnie asked, “No one investigated opponents of Hawaiian sovereignty? Those
would have been Nani’s real political enemies, wouldn’t they?”

Midori jabbed a finger in the air. “Ah, but they weren’t anywhere near the ‘Iolani
Palace grounds that day, were they? They had no reason to attend that march and hear
those speeches. Therefore it must have been a tragic accident, the outcome of a mob
out of control, or a terrible crime committed by a rival faction.”

“But it doesn’t sound like Nani led a faction. She worked on behalf of all.”

“Unless you count the biology department at the University of Hawaii, you’re right,
Nani had no faction of her own.” Midori laughed, short and bitter. “You know how dangerous
those botanists can be when they want to protect native plants from invasive species.”

“How can a woman be killed under such questionable circumstances and no one investigates
her political enemies?”
Bonnie asked. “Where’s the public outcry? Doesn’t anyone care?”

“Her friends fought as hard as they could,” said Midori. “Hinano kept on long after
everyone else had given up. But when a death takes place within a crowd of thousands
and no one sees anything, there’s little any single man can do.”

“His wife brutally killed, no justice, no resolution—how could he bear it?”

“He had a son to live for,” Midori said. “What choice did he have? He could keep fighting
and fighting and getting nowhere, or he could devote himself to raising his son and
try to move on.”

Bonnie might have made the same choice in Hinano’s place. Kai seemed like a fine young
man—bright, confident, cheerful. She never would have guessed he had grown up in the
shadow of such grief. “Hinano’s done well by his son. It couldn’t have been easy to
raise Kai on his own.”

“Kai is a wonderful boy,” said Midori proudly. “But Hinano hasn’t raised him alone.
Our
ohana
, our family, has always been there to help him. Kai lost his mother and there is
no making up for that, but he still grew up surrounded by love.”

“He should have had his mother, too.”

“Hinano would be the first to agree with you.”

They fell silent. Bonnie pondered Midori’s tale, imagining a grief-stricken father
raising his son after his beloved wife was so cruelly taken from them. It was little
wonder he had become angry and defensive, mistrustful of outsiders. The real wonder
was that he was not more so.

“As you’ve learned, Hinano adopted Nani’s cause as his own,” Midori said, breaking
the silence. “How could he not, after she had died for it? He won’t give up on the
hope of obtaining some measure of sovereignty
for his nation and justice for his people, the justice that was denied his wife.”
Midori sighed, rose, and carried the koa wood cutting board to the sink, where slowly,
methodically, she washed it. “I doubt he will ever trust the government to do right
by the people. It’s sad. He served his country proudly for many years, but when the
time came that he needed them, they let him down. He knows the name of everyone who
played even the smallest part in preventing a full investigation into Nani’s death.
I doubt he will ever forget those names, nor will he ever forgive.”

Bonnie thought of the burden of anger and grief Hinano had carried for so many years,
and her heart went out to him.

Chapter Eight
 

Once persuaded to advertise their teaching positions, Claire worked quickly to design
an attractive, appealing banner ad that would soon appear on the home pages of several
quilting magazine websites as well as other popular quilting sites. A few other applications
had arrived by mail thanks to Sylvia’s referrals, and two or three of them seemed
quite promising. This hopeful turn of fortune gave Bonnie much to be thankful for
during the fourth week of November, which made the thought of spending Thanksgiving
without her children or grandchildren a little easier to bear.

The Hale Kapa Kuiki was not quite filled to capacity for the Thanksgiving holiday
weekend, but it was nearly so, with more guests than they had hosted since Halloween.
After helping Midori serve their guests a special Thanksgiving breakfast that included
pumpkin muffins, pineapple pecan bread, and savory turkey omelets, Bonnie returned
to her room to call her family and wish them a happy Thanksgiving. Because of the
time difference their celebrations would already be under way, so after calling her
mother at her retirement community in Erie, Bonnie planned to call her mother-in-law
in Scranton, where
her children and grandchildren were attending the traditional family gathering.

She had always liked her mother-in-law, but she felt a flutter of trepidation as she
wrapped up her first call and prepared herself for the second. She had not spoken
with Linda since the divorce proceedings had begun. As the contentious rift between
Craig and Bonnie had widened, Bonnie had felt increasingly anxious and uncertain as
she pondered the inevitable changes to her relationships with her soon-to-be-former
in-laws. Would Linda now hate her as much as she had once loved her? Was it inappropriate
to call until the divorce was resolved or until she received Craig’s permission? Her
stomach churned at the thought of calling him to humbly ask if she could speak to
people she had considered family for nearly thirty years. And what if he forbade it?