Monday, April 21, 1947
Honolulu, Hawaii
My life in Honolulu, like so many others in the islands, remains restricted under the dark cloud of World War II, even though the war has been over for almost two years. Every day we hear of ordinary families struggling to regain their homes and plantations that had been taken over by the military during the war. Though Martial Law was abolished in 1944, the US Supreme Court has just today, finally, declared it unconstitutional.
Just as we began to think we could put the past behind us, my partner Jason and I learned on the radio this morning that the people of the isolated, outer island of Ni'ihau are still being subjected to the most austere restrictions of all.
Thanks to the island's feudal ownership by the Robinson family, the residents of Ni'ihau have no access to news, cannot own radios, and do not have adequate educational facilities or medical care.
Imagine. A life with no news and no music? I became instantly despondent. Jason immediately began plotting how to get radios, first aid kits, books, toys and newspapers over to the island. The words 'They live in complete subservience to the island's paternal owners' reverberated in my brain, rendering me immobile.
"This is terrible," Jason said, getting out of our bed and picking up his ever-present to-do list. I am a worrier-Jason is a doer. A born doer, all the way.
My name is Tinder McCartney, and Jason and I have been together for six years. It is my privilege to love him and care for him, and our precious son Christopher, who is a robust, healthy, happy little boy of five. We inherited him in 1942 when he was just two weeks old. His mother Melody had been a prostitute at the same hotel I worked at-only fate handed me Jason, and Melody... Well, poor Melody got knocked up by a US military officer. She'd lived in fear of him and paid dearly for her relationship with him.
He murdered her.
So, now, Christopher is ours. I have a dim memory of his father who came to see us once. I never forget a face and I could identify him if I ever saw him again, but now Christopher is safe and loved.
"Daddy?" He knocked on our door. I glanced at my husband. We might not be legally married men, but we are husbands. In every way. Jason looked up at me from his position on the floor. We were both naked and I'd hoped for some early morning fun until Ni'ihau's problem became our challenge. We both laughed.
"No rest for the wicked," my handsome man said. We rushed around getting dressed and opened the door to our little boy. He barrelled in, dressed only in pyjama bottoms since the weather was so humid. He is such a beautiful child. He loves us both equally but Jason was closest. Christopher put his arms up to Jason, who snatched him up, hoisted him into the air and kissed him.
Christopher laughed. Then it was my turn. I love to see him with Jason, who could not love a child more. Everything we do is for our son. He looks nothing like Jason, who is Chinese, but he is blond, like me. We put out the rumour that he is my dead sister's child when we first took him in. He was the child nobody wanted but now he has four adults who fiercely love him, the other two being my father and step-mother. Dad and Linda adore our rambunctious little handful. They have been the perfect cover for us since I don't really have a dead sister. I was an only child, but even my dad has come to believe the story. He and Linda are Christopher's legal parents, but he is our child.
"Tinder," he said, showing me his treasure. We had been careful to teach him to call me by my given name since I was technically, in the eyes of the world, his uncle. Jason was Daddy. I checked on Christopher's trophy. It was a gecko, though the poor little guy looked the worse for wear in my son's trusty grip. He adores animals but has to learn not to squeeze them to death out of love.
It took Jason and me a few minutes to coax Christopher into releasing the gecko to our bedroom windowsill. He cried hot tears when the little yellow lizard ran to safety.
"We'll get you a dog," I promised.
"When?" he asked me, more tears pooling in his big, beautiful, blue eyes. I felt a tug at my heart. My mother would have loved him. I missed her so much but she died before Pearl Harbor was bombed. I am glad she didn't have to suffer, though I miss her smile, her laughter and her wonderful hugs.
"Soon," I promised.
"Bacon," Christopher said. All three of us laughed. Next to getting a dog, Christopher's other obsession in life is food. He's in good company. We both love to eat and Jason is a generous husband who frequently takes us out to dinner. One of the most prominent bankers in Honolulu, he also owns several small businesses and his shipping line brings in luxuries from Japan and China so that the people of Honolulu can have things like rice and silk stockings. These were hard to come by during the war. We also have an icebox filled with ice cream, just because we can.
Sometimes I wake up and think we are still in the war. There are sirens and then we are placed under curfew. It all seems designed to keep us afraid...keep us in line. Sometimes I think Honolulu is just one great big Ni'ihau.
I carried our son into the kitchen. Gripping my hips with his strong legs, he reached over to the radio on the countertop and turned it on. The Andrews Sisters' jaunty song Rum and Coca Cola was playing. An ardent music lover as much as we were, Christopher began singing the lyrics at the top of his voice, making me laugh. I wasn't sure a five-year-old should sing about drinking rum, but he had no idea what the song was about. He just loved to sing. He shrugged himself out of my arms and began dancing around the kitchen.
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