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My Kind of Town Don Chapman |
Homeward bound
» The TubeAs Kaneloa, a Tuber chief of lowly status, hurried through the lava tube that passed under the Kaiwi Channel, he was amazed at all of the colors. At home beneath 'Iolani Palace, the rock was black. But here there were streaks of red, splotches of white and a whole passageway of green.
And the yellow, red, purple stalactite formations growing from the ceiling became evermore fantastic, some like grand chandeliers, some like blooming flowers, some like stilettos.
Oh, Pele, Kaneloa sighed, you are a grand artist.
As he went he chanted the Pele Tube Chant, meditating on it:
eternal lattice of air
inside the living
inside the breathing
'aina, the child of Pele.
I shall make a space
to preserve the life
of the gods
of the chiefs
of the people
of Hawaii,
and especially for Kamehameha
(sigh) the high hottie of my heart.
He was also returning home. The family story was that many generations ago a young man had arrived at the Palace Tube. He said he was from the Big Island clan and left because he wanted to see the world. He was planning to move on to Kauai, but lingered and fell in love with the daughter of the low chief of excrement haulers, and she with him. So he stayed and joined their ohana, carrying away the daily excrement of the ruling chief of the Palace Tube. Their first son he named Kamakaneloa, Son of Kaneloa. Which surprised his wife, for he'd introduced himself and was known to all simply as Kimo. Kaneloa, he explained, was an old family name from the Big Island.
The Tube was steep here, and as he labored up the slope still he heard the bones of the great King beckoning to him: Swifter, Kaneloa, time is of the essence. Despite the incline, he was passing other young men now, also journeying to the Royal Rotunda of King Kavawai, king of the Tubers. Ka-hale-pohaku on the west end of Molokai was not far, he heard them saying.
"It's a dangerous intersection of The Tube," he heard one warn. "Say your prayers. An evil power lurks nearby."