PART THREE: THE WALKING TREES

(Final installment for now! But only Pele knows for sure…)

I was surrounded by the Hawaiians of old, to whom I must have seemed as curious as they did to me, and was standing on the bayfront of my beloved Hilo town as it was at least two hundred years in the past.

Their leader was the King of Hawaii, whose remains were never found; an ancient Kahuna had thrown them back into the womb of the volcano, but he now stood in magnificent flesh and bone not three feet from me.

Blood not only rushed to my head in the presence of Kamehameha the Ist…it took a jet.

Now, I’ve met all manner of great men, generals, presidents, prime ministers, top tier thinkers and entertainers, when I was performing at a large business conference a lawyer friend of mine organized each year in my hometown; I even sat the entire day with many of these leading lights in backstage trailers as we relaxed and waited our turns before the crowds. Because I like to ask questions and relate, I got to see into them a bit and examine them for the keys to their glories.

But Kamehameha…he was like a warship compared to their rowboats. If there truly is such a thing as natural royalty, then that quality radiated from this huge and powerful man unmistakeably, the living embodiment of charisma, unbounded energy, and perfect harmony of body, mind, and spirit.

His fitness for his position was a simple fact of nature, and my proximity to this legend made me a tad…bit…nervous.

So I had to process the rest of the beer I’d drunk.

‘King’, I began, and seeing the look of controlled strain on my face, he pointed back to the thicket of trees I had previously watered.

That particular clump of greenery still exists as a vigorous growth on the shore in Hilo to this very day! Well, it’s ancestor, perhaps. But you can thank me for fertilizing it…

And as if on cue, when I stepped back onto the sand, the entire village had come down to the bay, bearing a rainbow of glistening fruits, flowers, fish, and five very, very, VERY large wild pigs, trussed and succulently roasted in the old Hele fashion, a feast to end all feasts!

I was invited to sit with the King. Well, carried by two warriors and plopped on a mat next to him, anyway. How could I refuse?

At complete ease among his people, Kamehameha laughed and joked and teased, and I sat in a state of blissful delirium to find myself at table in the most improbable luau I could imagine. I consider it still the finest meal of my entire life…

Fire dancers began a performance of their ancient art, spinning flame and flesh into a whirlwind of impossible feats; half-naked Hula dancers accentuated the sensuality of the foods set before me, dish after colorful dish we ate with our bare hands; and as we ate to bursting, we were charmed by the serenades of gifted musicians and singers, who sang of the island’s beauties, and battles, and loves, and gods.

And at the close of a hymn to Pele, goddess and keeper of the flame in Hawaii, her son Kamehameha stood, his massive and muscled frame towering above us all as we sat on our grass mats in sublime expectation.

The players began a slow, languorous melody that angelic Hawaiian voices turned at once into five-part harmony, and over this haunting, luxurious background Kamehameha began to sing.

In clear, sweet baritone he sang of the aloha in his heart for each of his tribe and their families, of the promise that he would always safeguard his people, the sacred fishing and burial grounds they cherished, their ancient gods and ways.

The pueness of his voice seemed to penetrate the deepest part of my own soul.

At the close of this amazing song, those present stood and each took the hand of another until all were connected by touch.

I was dazzled by the smile and exotic beauty of the rather under-dressed wahine who had slipped her soft hand into my own; and maybe a little less taken with the towering warrior on the other side whose hand was so large it easily swallowed mine…but who’s complaining? The experience was so lyrically magical that it turns itself over and over in my heart to this day.

The entire tribe began a chant older than the islands, older than the ocean, perhaps older than time itself; and as their voices drifted into the heavens, a light rain began, soft as feathers, sweet as native honey, as though the very sky had embodied the spirit of aloha and sent this rain to kiss us.

And then, lightning!

The largest burst of jagged electricity I’ve ever seen hit the bay about a hundred yards from the shore, and the ocean filled itself with power, and began to move like a living thing, which of course it is.

But to my dismay it began climbing, a local tsunami climbing the beach where we stood as one being, hands clasped in unbreakable unity, and it rose and rose until it was to our waists, then our shoulders, until it at last reached over the heads of the tallest warriors, and finally Kamehameha himself.

No one had moved, flinched, cried out in distress. Indeed, no sign was given that it was anything less than the natural order of things!

I, on the other hand, was feeling a bit shaky about being drowned.

Although I have a Boy Scout Merit Badge for Wrestling and had practiced the sport of jui jitsu in my callow youth, I could not break free of the hands gripping mine. And as they were submerged, so was I. I resigned myself to imminent death.

But as the clear blue water topped my mouth, my nostrils, my eyes and hair, I found I could breathe with the same ease I could see through the ocean, which was brightly festooned with large schools of tropical fish of brilliant color, undulating and swirling in a mesmerizing dance under the waves.

Among them, I could swear I saw creatures described of old as Mermaids, atop swift dolphins and trailing lengths of long golden tresses in the wake of their movement.

Every conceivable color was embroidered into this underwater tapestry, a kaleidoscope of hue and shade and form that made me giddy with astonishment.

And as I watched, the entire submerged Hawaiian tribe began to change from the glorious and happy group with whom I had feasted into something strange, and dark, and terrible…

The water receded from the shores; and I was again transfixed as I witnessed, in
place of the tribe, the same number of shudder-inducing Walking Trees!

I glanced back at the peaceful little village of Hilo; and into the air it rose like mist, vanishing into a darkening sky which had suddenly threatened to storm.

I looked all around me on the sand. The sight of these hundreds of Walking Trees, dragging themselves slowly from the water up onto the shore, was both horrifying and wonderful.

They moved on legs that squirmed and wiggled, as unlike the beautiful people they had replaced as day is from night.

I started to feel dizzy, and a bit sick.

Then suddenly we were back in the jungle, where I had first encountered the Walking Trees in my half-drunken stumbling.

I was lifted again into the air, gently and upright this time, by living branches and vines that nevertheless held me helpless again.

The one I knew to be Kamehameha turned its great and terrible face to my own, and in the voice of a tree rasped this:

‘You have seen what we seem to be, and what we really are.

‘In this form we are safe, and from this heart of stealth and strength our people will again become great, and will reclaim the rule of our islands.

Here we keep every ancient custom and honor every god and goddess of Hawaii that the modern world has scorned. But they all shall arise again.

When there are finally enough of us to conquer, we will take back these islands and my mother, Pele, will cleanse all traces of the haole’s presence with fire.

This will remain our mystery, never to be spoken of, never to be revealed to the encroaching world. And you are one of the fortunate who have this forbidden knowledge. And a Haole, no less! But you will say nothing, or there will be consequences as my mother Pele has decreed…’

I could do nothing but furiously nod in agreement, but in mid-nod Kamehameha suddenly reached out a very sharp branch and I felt my side pierced through and through by its thrust.

I looked down and saw blood; not the crimson color I expected but a green that glowed and sparkled with the energy of magic.

And suddenly I was falling, down, down into the dark foliage, and lay on the wet moss unmoving…unconscious…

Something even wetter brought me to my senses; Crusoe stood above me pouring a can of Natural Ice over my head.

‘Hey, Dave! Stupid haole, you gonna fall into a puka and break something! Wake up, you sommabish! It’s too goddammbit wet to stay out here…’

And this time, for a change, it was Crusoe pulling ME up from the ground, and walking me back to reasonable shelter from the rain.

I never told him what I had seen, where I had been, who I had met. I don’t believe it myself, most of the time, and I have written it all out in spite of Kamehameha’s warning. I disregarded my promise of silence, as I have never taken orders from my dreams, no matter how magnificent.

And so the tale has been told.

But as I have written, my hands and arms have become strangely stiff, and just minutes ago, an aching in my elbow led me to find a small painful growth in the joint; green it was, and something that appears to me very like a leaf.

I dug it out with a penknife; a small trickle of blood spattered the paper. Green.

I am worried. Natural movement feels so suddenly difficult.

But I am strangely calm, as well.

My thoughts…become quite strange and slow…

My hair is spiky and fierce…

I begin to stretch my serpentine limbs and branches…

And I long for the companionship of other trees.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Handy Links:
The Walking Trees – Part 1 
The Walking Trees – Part 2
The Walking Trees – All 3 Parts Combined