The Point of Vanishing - Maryka Biaggio (large ebook reader TXT) 📗

“How can you say that?”

“You’re deluding yourself if you think you can live like a native. You’re not a native. You’re an American. With college and promise ahead of you.”

“I don’t care about any of that anymore.”

“You’re just not yourself now—after the shock of your father’s letter and your fever. In time you’ll care again. You’ll see.”

✭

During their four days at sea, Barbara pretended she’d taken her mother’s message to heart. She even allowed her mother to prod her to fill up at meals. What else could she do? And the fresh sea air and rest did restore her color. But when they arrived in Tonga’s port town of Nuku’alofa, she found she had neither the inclination nor energy to explore this new island.

They rented a grass hut among coconut and banana trees. Her mother scheduled a meeting with the American student she’d heard about, Richard Howe, and returned to the hut with a thesis written in expansive hand, its sentences often crawling into the margins.

Her mother announced: “He’s a serious young man. His typewriter died, and he’ll pay us reasonably well to type his thesis.”

“What’s it about?”

“Modern Education in the Tongan Islands.”

“He’s reforming the natives?”

“Please don’t start with the noble savage talk.”

Barbara said nothing. She had other things on her mind. She’d been rearranging her papers and had come across the letter from her father. She’d tucked it away with her abandoned sketches in an envelope labeled “Discards.” She hated him.

“You must help with typing. It’ll do you good.”

“You start and tell me about it.”

Her mother set up her typewriter and rolled in a fresh sheet of paper. Over dinner, she said, “It’s fascinating material. Especially some of the background about the islanders’ folkways. And I need your help.”

“I don’t know if I can concentrate.”

“Please try, dear. You can start in the middle. And take your time. We’ll add the page numbers later.”

Out of boredom more than anything else, Barbara relented. For days she sat alongside her mother and rattled off pages, mostly in the afternoons when it was too hot for outings or when the steamy rains of the season kept them indoors. That’s how she learned about Tonga’s traditional healers. And that they had ways to chase away evil spirits.

The next morning, on their walk to the beach, Barbara told her mother, “I’d like to meet this Richard Howe. Can we visit him?”

“I don’t see why not. We can give him a progress report.”

“And talk to him about his research.”

“I’m so pleased you’ve got your curiosity back, Bar.”

✭

Richard Howe was a sickly young man—skinny and pasty-faced—who lived in a musty apartment on the edge of town. Barbara wondered how he’d managed his seven months here with all the tropical sun and, now, the heavy rains. The day after she met him, Barbara returned to his apartment for a private conversation.

“This paragraph,” she pointed it out on the page. “Mother says it’s a little vague.”

“Hmm,” he said, studying it. “Yes, I see what she means. Let me do some rewriting. Can you wait?”

“Yes.”

He sat down at his flimsy desk and bent over the paper, scribbling away.

Barbara wandered around his apartment, pausing at the windowsill he’d decorated with shells. She picked one up and examined it. “Tell me, Richard, do you know any traditional healers?”

“I’ve met a few. There are different kinds.”

“What about the ones who chase away evil spirits?”

“Them,” he said absently, “they treat what’s called fakamahaki.”

“I’d like to meet one.”

Richard scratched away with his pencil for a moment. “Doing some research of your own?”

“Not really. I’m just terribly curious about their practices.”

“I suppose I can ask around. Is your mother interested, too?”

“No. She’s a regular heathen when it comes to Polynesian traditions.”

“Does she know you wish to meet with a healer?”

“I’ll be telling her.”

✭

“Barbara,” said Richard with a flap of his hand, “this is Malohi. I have told him of your interest. He speaks no English, so his granddaughter will translate. She is Teyah.”

Teyah served them white drinks from a tray and lifted her glass toward them. “Welcome to my grandfather’s home.”

Barbara sipped the thick concoction—she guessed it was coconut milk flavored with vanilla. “Thank you,” she said, nodding to Teyah and her grandfather. “I’m honored to meet you.”

The four of them settled around a lowlying wood table in the middle of a grass hut. Malohi, a stooped man with skin sagging from his arms and face, seated himself cross-legged opposite Barbara. Richard sat next to Barbara, and Teyah sat beside her grandfather. They made a motley group, dressed in varied garb, with skin colors ranging from nearly white to weathered brown. Richard wore a collared cotton shirt and belted trousers, Barbara a simple yellow dress sewn in the West Indies, Teyah a modern Western sundress, and Malohi a flowing white lava lava.

Richard, who had a rudimentary grasp of the native language, spoke to Teyah, who then turned to Barbara. “You wish to learn about expelling evil spirits?”

“Yes. Can your grandfather tell me: If a man who has led a good life suddenly does something dishonorable, might it be because an evil spirit possesses him?”

Teyah translated for her grandfather, who crinkled his face into a thoughtful pose. After a moment, he spoke, keeping his eyes latched on Barbara.

The daughter explained his words. “He says it’s possible. He must know more before he can say.”

Barbara swallowed. She balked at disclosing her father’s deeds in front of Richard. Her mother would never discuss such personal matters with a stranger. But she’d come this far, and she’d imagined she might need to disclose some of the awful details.

“My father, who had been quite happy with our family, met a very young woman. Suddenly he wanted to divorce my mother. He forgot my birthday, which he’d never done before, and he even lost his job because of his disgraceful behavior.” Barbara pulled in her lower lip. That ought to be enough to give him an idea of her father’s conduct.

The words were again translated back and forth before Teyah asked, “This