Nothing but whoopee

When the news reached the Royal Rotunda of King Kavawai by royal runners, he sent his sprinters right back with a message for the Tuber Border Patrol at the upslope kipuka. The message went:

"Wonderful news that the goddess Tokelani has returned, if in fact she has. Please confirm one way or the other and advise. If she is Tokelani, please entertain her for a few days. We're still testing young chiefs to find a husband for the princess. We would respectfully and gratefully ask Tokelani's arrival to coincide with the honeymoon, not before, if you know what I mean."

The captain, reading the message to his officers, stopped and they all had to suppress laughter. When Tokelani comes, everyone feels like making whoopee and nothing but whoopee for a whole weekend. Which would certainly be a distraction for the princess' suitors.

The Border Patrol followed the voices and steps of Tokelani and her followers barely a foot above The Tube. They had just entered the kipuka, having received permission from the resident pueo.

Randy Makapu'u said, "Ho, you one serious Hawaiian, eh?"

"What kind of Hawaiian are you?" replied Pua Makua, Ph.D.

"I dunno. I like go beach, like surf, like hang out with my friends, barbecue, play music, li' dat."

"Those are good, Mr. Makapu'u. But there's more to Hawaiian culture than that. If you'd ever like to learn ... "

"I am," he said, smitten with this beautiful woman. "I do."

Pua had earlier explained that she was a UH scientist specializing in ethno-studies -- ethno-biology, ethno-botany, ethno-linguistics, ethno-geology -- it was all about humans' interaction with their environment.

"Why you came up here?" Randy said.

"A day off. Exercise. Curiosity. I'm fascinated by Pele's lava. I wondered why she spared this area, and what kind of plants and critters I'd find. The pueo is a pretty good start."

"That's my family aumakua," Randy said, "that's all I know, that's what they said. I never saw one till now."

"I'd call that a promising sign," Pua said, chickenskin tingling her back.

They followed a trail through tall grass. "This appears to be a pig trail," Pua said. The ground underfoot was soft, a startling change after walking on lava for nearly two hours. Pua wondered how ancient this spared soil was.

"Get more than pigs up here," Randy said, stopping and pointing to a shoeless human footprint in dried mud. A very large luau-kine foot. "Size 20, looks like." Pua took a picture with her digital camera, Randy holding a quarter beside the imprint for perspective.

"What?" Tokelani Green said.

Randy and Pua insisted they hadn't said anything.

But someone had called her name.

"Tokelani," someone whispered again. "Over here."