Hapai with magic

The two children born to a Raven and a Border Wahine, a wahine being woman, and really not "witch" though there is nothing wrong with that role ... sat together on a Fallen Tree and rode the Wa Kupuna ... the time of Ancestors. They were being given the stories their mother had recorded in her journals as storykeeper, storyteller. So often the archives of all the best stories wait for just the right incoming tide. The time of Ka Piko o Wakea, the Fall Equinox was just the tide. From their mother's journal they heard this ... 

Max's visits always came with purpose. "It is not that we worry about you, Pale Wawae," Max considered my long-standing reputation for being independent. He weighed his words, admitting it had been almost twenty years since his last visit. Evolution was a slow process, and he knew my predispositions. Still ... he was on my side and continued this way:
"You are hapai with a child of magic and a third pregnancy will..." Max chose his remaining words carefully as he sat in the wooden chair facing me across from the small glass-topped table. "A third pregnancy will build quite a bridge." To draw a picture, the kahuna used his ten long fingers to make a grid, lacing them like a woven mat.
"Over, under, over, under," his deep voice chanted simply.
"Nothing different, nothing new"
"Over, under, over, under." Max flipped his hands over and tugged them apart.. They separated easily.
"Now let's do this together," he said and reached for my hand. I offered him the right, "No, the other one," asking for the left hand.
My fingers are slender and tapered, but not nearly three-quarters are long as Max's. Like teaching a child, Max inter-twined our fingers. The thumbs barely involved, but essential. Reading my thoughts he said, "Oh yes, the thumbs are always involved. It's they that make all the difference," Awkward though the lattice was when we were done the spaces and the lacing created a beautiful mat.
"Pull apart," he instructed. I did as told. Nothing. I caught his gaze, aware that the lesson was being cooked into me. I relaxed and our fingers fell naturally apart.
"There is room for the unpredictable. Gene pools broaden now just as they have since the voyaging canoes crossed oceans in search of new land. It is not uncommon for the Magic Ones to mate with common, or uncommon mortals." I was not quite 'common' though the label was something I had yearned for at different times through my life. Max continued, "Try as they did, the mothers' mysteries eventually trickle down to us. Some secrets were uncovered in spite of their best efforts to conceal. Now, you, Pale Wawae, are to bear a child of Raven. What is necessary to know?" Over bowls of chicken soup and egg noodles my godfather answered.

Is anyone keeping an eye on the twins? (click to find out)

Siblings

Raven did as his daughter asked. Stan wrapped Shine in the patchworked skirt and lifted her into him. For a few moments she met his eyes, but hers were still milky and unfocused. Once on his feet Dumpling stroked the girl's face looked in the direction of the Twins and saw that Aka had her brother enfolded in her arms; her arms turning to wings.

The sun seemed to pause. The sky brightened slowly. On the Tall One stretched horizontal to the bay the two siblings wrapped themselves into the feathered space of reassembling. Not here, not there the offspring of two very different Beings knew to unstitch for awhile. Aka handed her brother the vial. "Ma made this for you. Hypericum Perforatum for sadness." In their Raven forms the dose of St. Joan's wort was at least doubly potent. From his vantage point Jacob the Surveyor meddled for the second time. As Skeena loosened the stopper, pink liquid splashed, spilling a portion. Skeena drank the rest.

The Advocate spoke silently but loud enough for Rabbit to hear. "So, is that bit of remedy enough for that boy? Didn't his mother mean for him to have all of it?" Rabbit asked. Jacob had been a steward at these borders for a very very long time. He was often silent in his duties but he missed nothing. "Sometimes a mother will misjudge the potency of her own gifts. Sometimes less is more, they forget that." Rabbit trusted his sidekick, but wondered whether there was enough of the remedy to do the job. Together Rabbit and Jacob watched.

Minoaka had asked for enough time to comfort her twin, between them the memories of Raven and the Border Witch ran like salt water and fresh. The multiple messages dosed them, Skeena relaxed and for awhile they were eggs again listening to all the stories, all the songs. The history forward and back opened up.  Aka chanted. She called on her Ancestors to refresh their world. She chanted a traditional 'oli.

Na ‘Aumakua mai ka la hiki a ka la kau!Mai ka ho’oku’i a ka halawaiNa ‘Aumakua ia Kahinakua, ia Kahina’aloIa ka’a ‘akau i ka lani‘O kiha i ka lani‘Owe i ka laniNunulu i ka laniKaholo i ka laniEia na pulapula a ‘oukou ‘o ka 'ohana Raven WawaeE malama ‘oukou ia makouE ulu i ka laniE ulu i ka honuaE ulu i ka pae’aina o Hawai’i a me ke'ia moku SalishE ho mai i ka ‘ikeE ho mai i ka ikaikaE ho mai i ke akamaiE ho mai i ka maopopo ponoE ho mai i ka ‘ike papaluaE ho mai i ka mana.‘Amama ua noa.

What does Aka's chant reveal? (click to find out)
Na ‘Aumakua
Adapted from Hawaiian Antiquities by David Malo

Pivot

Stan was a light-sleeper and the widely spaced limbs of the shelter made it easy to spot the talons. Shine would sleep for days, and Dumpling was happy to be herself again. Assured of his own shape Stan got to his knees and backed out.

Extending his hand Stan greeted the silver bird, "Raven. I'm glad it's you."
Raven accepted the long fingered hand in both his. "I wasn't sure who to expect to be honest, and under the circumstances I left the readings out of the equation." The two males held the handshake knowing their roles in this unfolding story would amend the future. Neither were afraid of how genealogy grew, but then it was Haumea and her plotting that would prevail. Raven looked deeply into the musician's heart. "How did you leave her?"

Stan pulled the small glass vial from his jeans' pocket, "She wanted you to have this. She said, 'Give this to him when the time is right. This would be that time." Pale had long been an experimenter with remedies, part of her culture as navigator at the edges required knowing who the Medicine Plants are. She was not indigenous to this Salish place, so one lifetime was hardly enough to know them all; but, she did her best. Raven looked at the pink-red liquid that filled the vial and nodded, "Thank you."

Skeena and Aka walked the shoreline at the water's edge. The tide was high but there was always walking room. Skeena had never met Stan Costa but had heard about him from his mother. Aka knew the man from their work in the gardens, and the band Sonics had her children mesmerized. She introduced her brother and gave Stan a big hug. The twins peeked in to see Dumpling circled around a thin young woman. It was hard to tell who she was, but, Aka knew. "You found her," Aka said through tears that made her already big golden eyes glow like amber. If she was back, there had been an agreement, of exchange. Skeena read his sister's thoughts, caught the drift of things. "NO! Ma stayed to sacrifice herself for that girl?"

An enraged Raven is not a element to interrupt. His outrage woke Dumpling. Shine did not stir. But then she was deaf. "Your mother was ready." The Silver-bird knew words would be useless, but tried anyway. Time would help. But explanations ... mostly they never worked. It was Aka who knew what her mother's wishes were. Minoaka never released her brother's hand. She walked slowly over to her father's side. "The vial dad. Ma meant for Skeena to have it, not you. Leave us here. You folks take the Subaru. Let me be with Skeena, and Ma. We'll meet you at the Pin. Don't go home yet, okay?"

Jacob the Surveyor had stayed a respectful distance away, but, he saw everything. It was of course his kuleana to know everything about Sunlight Beach. The public access was his domain, and meddling at pivotal times was his responsibility as well. With the bit of glamour to which he was entitled Jacob ensured the Twins their time to grieve their mother's choice. If there was a pivot to this Salish community's history this was it. Clank, clank. His sticks set the boundary.


And then what happened? (click to keep reading)

The rooster crows, ravens fly

As predicted, when Madrone reached the shore's edge Stan's plume of tail feathers quickly shifted to his favorite pair of old denim jeans. "I was gettin' used to them," Dumpling joked. "The tail feathers!" Nearly too tired to appreciate the humor Stan Costa took a moment. He was barefoot. The water was cold, he wondered how Shine survived the days of floating in water that cold. His brain wasn't going to ferret that one out. It was his experience with the Women that would give me his answers. For now he knew Shine needed to be carried to the shelter and all three of them would need sleep.

Dumpling's skirt would have to do as a nest. Without a second thought she found a small hole and tore. Split in two it covered the sandy floor well enough. Gently from Stan's arms, Shine folded herself into a curve. Dumpling spooned against her to warm the girl's back. Stan arched behind Dumpling. Exhaustion blanketed them. Mahina watched, and from their watery outposts Kohola and her family were satisfied, "It continues then." Hi'iaka agreed. There was more to come and this was as good a place to grow new land.

~~~~~

Three ravens flying is not an uncommon sight. Ravens in a Subaru? People might turn and stare. It was still early when the Silver-haired Raven woke his son, and then his daughter. "We have something to do," is all he said. His children were used to minimal conversations and rarely did their father wake them any more. In his vest pocket Raven pulled long feathers. At first Skeena mistook them for Raven's. Blinking sleep from his eyes he recognized the color was not ink blue-black. "Rooster." Aka was either more awake or just more attuned to the differences. She and her own children had a yard full of chickens and a rooster. "Has the rooster crowed?" She asked quietly, Aka had a subtle humor but always well-directed. She knew her father would not be toting those feathers without some special destination in mind.

Pale's green Subaru. The Silver-haired Raven never drove it. Aka had her own set of keys to her mother's car. Skeena rode shotgun. Their father would lead. Flying low with great strokes of his long feathered wings Raven flew over the curving drive from cottage to the main road. It was early enough to avoid most of the commuter traffic. He led his children to Sunlight Beach. Less than five minutes from the cottage, the public access lot was quiet and empty. Even Rabbit was still asleep. Jacob the Surveyor was not asleep. Watchful the barrel-chested bearded advocate quietly observed from behind the trellis of Scarlet Runners. Three Ravens on the beach before sunrise. Three Ravens shifted to Human, now that was something he'd remember. He made no sound, and made no attempt to approach.

This was a familiar place to Aka, a spot she and her children loved to walk. All the Bird Clans recognized her as one of the few who crossed, and though some of the visiting relations fussed over the inter-species mingling it was never an issue. The Silver-haired Raven was a Being respected for his essence. No one messed with him or his people. His appearance was rare here on the public access. Jacob took note, especially so when he recognized the brocade vest buttoned around the great bird's chest. Jacob waited, just in case.

The Tree lined beach was a holding place for the Tall Ones in their later forms of being. Drift wood was a casual way of naming them, like Nurse log was a role given by humans, here on the shore of the Salish Trees served even after they fell. This morning Skeena and his sister walked around the fallen Trees taking the longer route along the bank that led to the Saltwater Marsh. Their father flew to the shelter landing softly on the cobbled roof, and waited, too. "What do you think we'll find?" Skeena knew it had something to do with Pale but would not venture a guess. His sister simply reached for his hand and squeezed.

What did they find? (click to find out)

Half-half

The corridor of sunlight drew a perfect pathway for the return.

"We can wait here for the tide to bring us into shore," Hi'iaka always appreciated the Equinox of equalizing time. Unpinning her kikepa from the linkage with Dumpling's skirt Hi'iaka paused and felt Shine's forehead with the gentle touch of a loving aunt. There was neither fever nor chill, but, the girl needed something. All about her it was obviously feeding time. The Herons gathered nearby and a ways away from the muddle of Gulls engaged in many conversations. Decisions about meals perhaps. The goddess put out the request, "The girl needs something more than the limu. A share of your dinner would serve her well." The Gulls were too busy arguing among themselves, but, Heron heard. With her long bill she speared a small fish. "Mahalo, thank you." Hi'iaka pulled the still flopping fish from the long bill, opened her mouth and chewed. The masticated flesh would be easier for the weakened girl to digest. Like a mother bird the goddess fed the muliwai small bits, massaging the girl's throat to aid her swallowing.

Dumpling still a hen, watched the miracle of border life from the stilled platform of Madrone. Instinctively she began to vocalize. Simple hums, like bees, Dumpling hummed. The sun quickly sunk behind the ridge leaving that inimitable color of Sunset when the atmosphere is clean. Not so much brilliant as beautiful, the last days of summer coated her throat. Above them Mahina the moon in her 'Ole Pau face looked at the scene below. The water was very shallow where the two birds and the girl floated. Dumpling's humming was not only coating her throat it was the sound necessary to bring her through the square hole. Like a wild snail chewing the hums returned Dumpling to woman.

The log tettered, but only momentarily. Dumpling the hen slipping from bird to woman with little drama. Her feet found the sand easily. Dumpling stood, holding the Madrone. Stan remained rooster mesmerized at the capacity of the female. A goddess chewing fish for a small girl-child. His lover and partner drawing ancient sounds from some primal spot only women knew, he speculated on that one. Yet, he had watched what happened again and again when women hummed. His bass could do that as well.

It was not quite dark when Shine made a small sound. Stan was familiar with the way music came together for her. The tide was beginning its flow. Hi'iaka pushed the Madrone so it remained at standing level for Dumpling. "Keep pushing them toward the beach, Dumpling. When you are beached, Stan will be your man again. There is a place to shelter you tonight and then the morning will be ready for you."

"Won't you stay?"

"No. This girl needs the company of Familiars. In time, we will meet again. But now, she needs family. Be that for her." The goddess was gone, but not before she fastened the brass safety pin to the front of Shine's tattered blouse. "This will hold her fast enough."


What happened next?(click to find out) 

Exchange

The space of sacredness like the knot on a Spider's web was limitless. It was all potential. The Old Stories included hundreds of images about hei the net, the ensnaring possibilities. The great spider Uku Uku, Haumea's net flung high into the sky. Her tool for plotting all manner of potential. Hi'iaka was a goddess. But, before she was limitless she too was a sister, the youngest among many with the same name. In her present form she shared that potential with the musician and the woman shaped like ipu. There was a childishness the goddess enjoyed when she appeared as Bridge, or link. Hipu'u. Explorative! That was one of Pele's sister's great talents. Time travel was child's play, though so few Humans remember that. Flying on a patchwork skirt? This was a new twist. She liked new twists.

Dumpling the hen blinked a lot. The familiarity of her old skirt offered some comfort. So much had happened, there was no time for the fever of the Western mind. She was a hen, with a goddess and a rooster riding time toward a rescue. "Faith dear," it was Stan who read his Dumpling Woman's anxiety. "Let's just have some of it." It's hard to tell when a rooster is smiling, but Dumpling was pretty sure she could discern a turn of the lips on him. A second voice found her as the skirt began to zigzag between the clouds. It was a purr. Spirit Cat.  All borders opened, Dumpling felt her heart peel open. Alright. She hummed.

So the skirt in the hands of a much experienced goddess of exploration hovered no more than a foot over the tops of a mildly stirred ocean. It was an 'Ole Moon, not quite stable time. The waters were not fished now, no wise fisherfolk fished on the 'Ole. "There!" Hi'iaka spotted a length of Madrone, water-logged the smooth red-orange skinned Tree remained buoyant a perfect resting place. Her kin, wise in their selections, made sure the girl had the company of deep rootedness.

The girl was barely conscious, but she lived. Hi'iaka landed the skirt with its occupants beside the girl Shine. "Aw, there is just a bit of that left in her," She was assessing the life force of the young muliwai. "They have maintained her aka she retains a shadow. She retains her humanness." The goddess directed the two birds. In their present forms they would not add much weight to the Madrone. With swift and powerful movements the skirt became a towing line. Her own kikepa unfurled and linked to the skirt. Hi'iaka's strong and muscled physical form became a tug boat. A brass pin, one she treasured, secured skirt to kikepa. The goddess pulled.


There's more(click and read)...

Calendar names

The one on the frig read "September" there were notes written in her curling print. A scheduled event that would not happen. An appointment that would go unmet. Hung with clothespins the three weeks of the moon faces depicted a month of a different kind. Some called this month Mahoe Hope, others say this is the month Mahoe Mua or Hilinama, She lived between the borders of both calendars, a Border Witch did that...roamed the betweens.

There were notes left on the side of the frig as well ...
Old Man's Beard
growing on the wild downed branches
a tincture in 6 wks
lung infection, colds & flu
St. Joan's Wort
Hypericum perforatum her Latin name
yellow roadside flower turns red in spirits
dropper full for sadness and virus
Mullein stalk and leaves
sought them out on a neighborhood walk
too late, Vine Maples are orange
other places; maybe exchanged for money
#1 for lung strength
replace worry and fear about SARS (Sudden Acute Respiratory Syndrome)
Root of Corn Flower
Echinacea during acute infection 
never as prevention

Milk or cheese from Jude's dear goat
#2 for lungs Really? 

The 'ole moons 7 each malama
4 before full
3 after full

Raven flew through the open window to the cottage. He had felt Pale's lele, her departure. From his side of things serving the common magic of tea and toast to their neighbors, the Silver-haired birdman recognized the shift, registered the loss.

"Couldn't you have stopped Ma?" Skeena knew better, but even the Initiated falter in their commitments and cling to loved ones especially when there was no moment of saying good-bye. He was no child when his mother stepped onto the shore with Kaimalama Noa. Skeena was fully grown and was as well a generation bred of Raven and Border Witch. But it was the child who mourned and wished for just one more funny story, and the sweet breath of his mother as she pressed her hand to his face.

The great silver bird, his father, embraced his son. Enfolding him in his strong wings Raven pressed Skeena into his chest. The smell of cinnamon strong and nurturing, the young man sobbed then heaved the grief of human emotion. Never did his father suggest otherwise. It was always Pale's humanness and vulnerability that gave her children grace under fire. The two men wailed. She, the physical woman, would be missed.

Skeena's twin sister, Aka waited at the doorway. Skeena had come a long way to be with their father. His work, as magician took him away from this forest cottage. It was his design, and he did this with skill and agility. Visits between were less frequent, but, understandable. Both mother and son were, are, storytellers and upon her backbone Skeena grew the legacy. Minoaka, Aka, on the other hand was a root woman. She remained close and raised a pair of quarter-birds not far from their homeplace. She remained intimate with her parents' daily lives.

Aka knew it was Spider Season they were everywhere and she was glad to see their consistent seasonal presence. Large Familiar Spiders spun their webs off the kitchen roof. They waited for food and were quick to ensnare. Other families would spin their hammock-like webs that dangled between the spikes of Huckleberry and Wild Blueberry. These in particular would catch water, from the sacrifice, Earth is giving up the water, marking the potential for slowly and consistently refilling the aquifers beneath the forest floors. It was true, everything is sacrificed. Ohiwai. Day in day out. Sun rose ... HA. The first deep stirring! ENA ... intensity. HAENA. And when the sun sank in the west, it was a slow and gentle, exhalation ... HA. ENA ... breath.

"Spider Season," Aka finally said quietly once her family released each other. The men looked at Minoaka and saw the reflection of the first and last breath. Haena.

Keep going ... (click here)

* If you are new to the medicine stories, and the life of The Border Witch and her community, there are episodes that describe the early times of Skeena and his twin sister Aka. Click here.