PART TWO: THE WALKING TREES

I am upside down twenty feet or more in the air in the deep Hawaiian jungle, on a night flooded by a nervous and full Hawaiian moon. My location at the moment is not exactly of my own choosing; heights bring out the coward in me, ever since a severe ear infection as a child.

I am instead held helplessly in the leafy grasp of some kind of snaking vine, commanded by a very tall and spiky tree able to move under it’s own volition.

And I am about to wet my pants.

The very tall and spiky tree moved toward me, undulating on row after row of worm-like tendrils until it was able to peer full into my nearly purple upside-down face.

‘I have to pee!’ I gasped aloud, hoping that a tree that can ambulate will also be able to understand plain English.

The oddest-sounding rustle struck up a presence in the air around me, something like a cross between sandpaper on wood and the sound a hyena makes, only lower in tone.

The tall spiky tree waved a branch and suddenly I felt myself falling, falling, falling; only to land in the well-muscled arms of a tall and regal warrior, nearly twice my size and weight, and made of spring steel to judge by how little effort he expended to catch me.

The odd rustling sound had dissolved into something at once humanly familiar: the roar of laughter!

And in the place of the army of Walking Trees, there stood a gathering of native Hawaiians, beautifully garbed in the costume of tribal antiquity.

The nervous night had magically become brilliant day, the shimmering blue of the endless Hawaiian sky shining all around us.

I was lowered to the ground gently by this mountain of a man, obviously the uncontested spokesman for all gathered behind him.

And behind me, I saw a pair of the warriors who had held me aloft in their own mighty grips, now grinning in that wide-open way that these beautiful people still do today.

‘Haole boy! Behind da kine!’, and the leader pointed to a nearby banana tree, whereupon I could release a little pressure from all the beer I’d guzzled with Crusoe, my Alcoholic Hawaiian pal.

The group thought this was pretty funny. I poked my head out, a little embarrassed, and they howled again. I finished my business and walked sheepishly back to the tribe.

I was met with broad smiles all around as I rejoined them, but I guarantee, I had no idea how to react, and was in the weirdest frame of mind of my entire life (not to mention a tad embarrassed…)

But somehow, the smiles and sweet round faces of this strange group put me at ease, and my fear became my fascination.

The day was completely glorious, the air the cleanest I’ve ever taken in, and the colors of the world had a radiance I’ve never seen in my day to day, except at the births of my five wonderful daughters…

I was in old, old, old Hawaii.

This HAD to be a dream! I bit my arm, and had the reaction you might expect when I drew a little blood.

Hurt like hell. I was conscious, all right.

I scanned my surroundings and immediately realized we were no longer in the deep jungle, but had somehow materialized on a long black sand beach fronting a wide, crescent bay.

There were ukuleles plunking some distance in the background, and calm, sweet harmonies followed its sound like ripples in gentle water.

That bay was something familiar…as was the river cascading into the left end of the bay…

Hilo! This was HILO!

I looked again in awe at the landscape around me, sure to a fault I was imagining this yet knowing in my heart that I was indeed seeing my town as it was at least two hundred years in the past.

There were no storefronts, no paved streets, no vehicles that resembled cars, certainly; in their place stood a variety of the old Hawaiian hales that were gorgeous in their simplicity and oneness with the natural world in which they stood.

I saw half-naked women, not only unashamed but likely unaware that it would never be possible to walk around modern Hilo so alluringly.

The men were full-muscled, black-maned specimens of all that is handsome, and they looked unstrained, intelligent, and happy.

My mouth must have dropped open in amazement, which I know because a curious bee flew in and I spit it rapidly out in a sputter of amazement and consternation.

This was again hilarious to the assemblage around me, their kind eyes and bright teeth sparkling in the sun. It made me want to laugh too, and somehow I found myself howling along with them, albeit with a tinge of hysteria.

I must have looked as curious to them as they to me; but I was still deeply puzzled as to what was happening, and why.

I again turned to the massive man who led them, mantled with a cape of glorious feathers expertly crafted from the most exotic plumage on the island.

His headdress added another foot to his stature, and I know I will never again meet anyone whose fitness for nobility rings as true.

‘Who ARE you?’ I pled, although inside I could already hear the name ringing in my ears.

The great man held out his arms in a gesture of natural power, spreading them wide to include the scope of the entire scene.

‘I am called Kamehameha, son of Pele, Goddess of these islands; and I am the eternal and anointed King of Hawaii!’

I suddenly had to pee again.

(PART THREE OF THE WALKING TREES, COMING UP SOON!)

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