FullReads

Word came, via telephone, almost simultaneously to the Pacific and University Clubs, that at last Alice was telling her soul in meeting; and, by private machine and taxi-cab, for the first time Abel Ah Yo’s revival was invaded by those of caste and place. The first comers beheld the curious sight of Hawaiian, Chinese, and all variegated racial mixtures of the smelting-pot of Hawaii, men and women, fading out and slinking away through the exits of Abel Ah Yo’s tabernacle. But those who were sneaking out were mostly men, while those who remained were avid-faced as they hung on Alice’s utterance.

Never was a more fearful and damning community narrative enunciated in the entire Pacific, north and south, than that enunciated by Alice Akana; the penitent Phryne of Honolulu.

“Huh!” the first comers heard her saying, having already disposed of most of the venial sins of the lesser ones of her memory. “You think this man, Stephen Makekau, is the son of Moses Makekau and Minnie Ah Ling, and has a legal right to the two hundred and eight dollars he draws down each month from Parke Richards Limited, for the lease of the fish-pond to Bill Kong at Amana. Not so. Stephen Makekau is not the son of Moses. He is the son of Aaron Kama and Tillie Naone. He was given as a present, as a feeding child, to Moses and Minnie, by Aaron and Tillie. I know. Moses and Minnie and Aaron and Tillie are dead. Yet I know and can prove it. Old Mrs. Poepoe is still alive. I was present when Stephen was born, and in the night-time, when he was two months old, I myself carried him as a present to Moses and Minnie, and old Mrs. Poepoe carried the lantern. This secret has been one of my sins. It has kept me from God. Now I am free of it. Young Archie Makekau, who collects bills for the Gas Company and plays baseball in the afternoons, and drinks too much gin, should get that two hundred and eight dollars the first of each month from Parke Richards Limited. He will blow it in on gin and a Ford automobile. Stephen is a good man. Archie is no good. Also he is a liar, and he has served two sentences on the reef, and was in reform school before that. Yet God demands the truth, and Archie will get the money and make a bad use of it.”

And in such fashion Alice rambled on through the experiences of her long and full-packed life. And women forgot they were in the tabernacle, and men too, and faces darkened with passion as they learned for the first time the long-buried secrets of their other halves.

“The lawyers’ offices will be crowded to-morrow morning,” MacIlwaine, chief of detectives, paused long enough from storing away useful information to lean and mutter in Colonel Stilton’s ear.

Colonel Stilton grinned affirmation, although the chief of detectives could not fail to note the ghastliness of the grin.

“There is a banker in Honolulu. You all know his name. He is ‘way up, swell society because of his wife. He owns much stock in General Plantations and Inter-Island.”

MacIlwaine recognized the growing portrait and forbore to chuckle.

“His name is Colonel Stilton. Last Christmas Eve he came to my house with big aloha” (love) “and gave me mortgages on my land in Iapio Valley, all cancelled, for two thousand dollars’ worth. Now why did he have such big cash aloha for me? I will tell you . . . “

And tell she did, throwing the searchlight on ancient business transactions and political deals which from their inception had lurked in the dark.

“This,” Alice concluded the episode, “has long been a sin upon my conscience, and kept my heart from God.