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“, , sweetheart. Go back to sleep.’ Please! To his relief and regret, she did, curled up on her side, her hand fisted beneath her cheek.
When he rose from the bed, he cursed himself, even as he turned again to look at her. Her nightgown was bunched about her thighs – long, slender legs, so white and so soft-looking. He pulled a sheet over her.
13
Saint learned in the next several days that his young wife was quite a storyteller in her own right. He came into the dining room one afternoon after treating a fellow passenger for an abscess on his leg, and saw Jules sitting at a table, her hands gesticulating while she talked. He moved closer, saying nothing, his eyes intent on her vibrant face. When he’d known her as a young girl, he’d thought her fascinatingly aware of everything around her, but in the endlessly curious manner of children. Not so, he had come to realize. She’d managed to nurture her curiosity, her complete excitement with life itself. Even the events of the previous month and a half had only dimmed her spirit for a while.
‘The whole thing about the kapus, you see, was to curtail the native women’s freedom. They couldn’t eat with the men, couldn’t eat certain foods – bananas, coconuts-, pork, even baked dog!’
‘Good heavens,’ said Miss Mary Arkworth, ‘what was there to eat then?’ Miss Arkworth, who had lived on Oahu for a number of years and who knew the answer very well, could
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have added that all the kapus were supposedly religious in nature, but she didn’t. She was enjoying the very bright Mrs. Morris’ enthusiasm too much to dampen it.
‘Sounds fine to me,’ said Nathan Benson. ‘Let them eat cake if they’re not allowed baked dog.’
‘Well, Mr. Benson,’ Jules said in a tart voice, ‘it’s all well and good to joke about it, but there was a story about a little five-year-old girl who ate a banana. Instead of killing her, which was the punishment for breaking a kapu, they ripped out her right eye.’
Amid the gasps of outrage, Saint asked, ‘Weren’t all the eating kapus gotten rid of by a woman?’
She smiled at him, as if he were a very bright pupil, and nodded. Her audience quietened, leaning forward to listen. ‘You see,’ she said in a confidential voice, ‘after King Kamehameha I died, his queen, Kaahumanu, announced to her young son that she would be his kuhina-nui, or vice-king.’
‘Smart lady,’ said Mr. Benson.
‘Indeed,’ said Jules. ‘And she was a very brave woman. To break the eating kapu, she ate a banana in front of the king, Liholiho. He, dear boy, ignored it. Then she had the temerity to eat a meal in his presence!’ Jules
paused dramatically.
A natural storyteller, Saint thought, smiling at her.
‘What happened?’ Miss Arkworth demanded.
‘Nothing, not a single thing. Kaahumanu broke him down. Finally, at a banquet, the king went to the women’s table and began piling pieces of food into his mouth. The vice-king – a woman – won!’
‘What became of her?’ asked Mrs. Benson. ‘She died of old age,’ said Jules.
‘Odd,’ said Saint. ‘I thought she died from overeating.’
Jules shot him an impish grin. ‘Well, like most Hawaiian women, she was immensely fat. That, you know, is what is considered beautiful on the islands.’
‘Now, Jules,’ Saint said when they were alone a few minutes later, ‘Victorian prejudices have started taking hold. Many of the Hawaiian women are forcing their healthy bodies into those awful whalebone corsets. You didn’t tell all the truth.-‘
She nodded and said sadly, ‘Civilization is not always such a wonderful thing, I think. And, ‘ she added, grinning up at him, ‘I didn’t want to ruin the impact of my story.’
Saint cupped her face between his large hands. ‘You, Mrs. Morris, are a natural.’
‘A natural what?’ Jules asked, her eyes coming to rest on his mouth. She felt a bit breathless and somewhat strange, as if his fingers and his palms were warming her from the inside out.
Saint felt her lean toward him and immediately dropped his hands, saying lightly as he did so, ‘A natural teller of tall and not-so-tall tales. Now, would you care to stroll on deck?’