Ova Da Rainbow: HAWAII'S STORY (3)

In Sound and Fury

She did, and she paid the price with her life.

How many more young men and women will have to go through the same?

Anuenue had a funeral two weeks later, a private one, with quite a few names that specifically were barred from attending.

Kailani Kameāloha (and anyone close to her), and Lucius Kangur.

The reasons given were that it was because Anuenue "thought" she was a māhu that this happened in the first place. And as such, it was Aunty Lani, who encouraged it so much from the start, who should take the complete and utter fault of it. And facing the allegations of homosexuality that came with Lucius? Unacceptable.

No, Anuenue would have a nice, quiet, sanitized funeral, with a headstone that read,

"Paul Kainalu Waiona-Baker, 1972-1991. Earth has no sorrow, that heaven cannot heal. - Isaiah 35:10"

This quote is often misattributed to be a Bible verse, with several different false origin verses, though it was written by Thomas Moore, an Irish poet.

How fitting, that the headstone of a young woman dressed in the suit she graduated in, would have a quote that wasn't bothered to be checked with the bible that the priest read as she was put in the ground.

Amen, Amen, Amen.

It was so upsetting, so outrageous. Aunts and Uncles who hadn't so much as cared as to know who Anuenue and her siblings were before, were now fighting each other for custody of the rest.

And why?

Was it guilt of not being there for their dearest "nephew"? Was it because they finally realised what life was like in foster homes? Was it because they didn't want those children growing up with the same sinful lifestyle?

And that was that. That was all that was left of a bright shooting star that fell so far, so fast, without a child to point it out and make a wish with eyes shut tight.

Kālahui was hit the hardest by not going to the funeral, but Hawaiʻi didn't even know if she could handle going anyways.

She was only physically around 10 years old now, but she had the furrowed brow of someone four times her age. It was sad, almost, how full of anger and turmoil she had come into this world. Few saw her laugh, few saw her even smile anymore.

Anuenue was one of the few people who got past her guard she put up, and now the walls were all rebuilt, this time made of iron, instead of stone.

That went against everything Hawaiʻi believed a child should be. She needed to talk to someone about it all. And so, she decided to speak to Niʻihau.

It was always so awkward to speak to him.

"Nii, I just don't know what to do. Kālahui, the poor thing, she's... She's not taking it well. She's currently in her room trying to see if she can melt away among her stuffed animals." Hawaiʻi said, sighing. "It's not working very well."

"First human friend's death?" Niʻihau said quietly, and Hawaiʻi nodded. "That's always so hard. Poor thing."

"Yeah. And she wasn't allowed to go to the funeral because of me." Hawaiʻi said, before sighing. "And the thing is, she had loved Anuenue so much, and now she's just wallowing alone and pushing any friends she had away from her."

"Understandable, really." Niʻihau said, before biting the inside of his cheek, seemingly in thought. "When was the last time you were on Niʻihau?"

"Oh, years ago. A little after the second world war, I think, personally thanking Ben Kanahele and his wife."