Untraditional Pt. 03

Mel's story... and Rob's redemption

I'll admit, as I mentioned in the part one intro, I wanted enough detail in this story so that readers could immerse themselves in the reality of it, to feel like they were truly there, either living things with our MC, Rob, or at least feeling it in a way that allowed them to see it as a real-life possibility. It is otherwise known as suspension of disbelief. No eighteen-year-olds with smartphones and porn on demand, planting trees, in urban America or elsewhere entangled in an ancient cultural tradition.

That isn't a jab at previous authors who've attempted to go down this rabbit hole. I've enjoyed all that I've read. This final chapter should close all the holes that Rob wondered about, and all of you, by extension.

I wanted to take a moment and give a huge shout-out to my editor, StrikesandBalls. His collaboration on this story was greatly needed and appreciated. I sincerely thank everyone who follows and supports me and takes the time to read my work.

Relax; it's just a story, people.

To say things hadn't worked out the way I'd hoped was the understatement of a lifetime. Time was my mentor in that revelation but nothing made my choices any better. It had been nearly four years since I watched Rob, my ex-husband, get on that ferry without me. That's why I decided to start writing in a journal. If nothing else, I'd be able to share it with my son, Ikaika, as a life lesson. The way things had worked out in my shitty life, I hadn't even been given a choice of picking my son's name. That was all on his father, my island husband, Puko.

My island husband. What a fool I'd been. Puko and I discussed names when I found out I was pregnant, just six weeks after my real-life husband and younger sister left the island for good. We discussed names superficially, I should point out, for about five minutes before he declared, "We will name him Ikaika, after my great-grandfather. It means warrior."

I quickly pointed out that the name's true meaning was 'strong,' and Puko just dismissed me. That was one of the first times I saw him for what he was and stared at the mistake I'd made.

In all honesty, I'd made plenty. The very first was bringing my husband, Rob, to the island in the first place. I should have taken a month, claiming I needed to visit my family and cultural home, then spent two of Rob's three-month sabbatical with him somewhere warm and romantic, making up for what I'd done regarding the tradition without ever letting him know, and then letting him take his final month visiting his parents while I went back to work.

Of course, I'd have completed the ritual with Puko and fulfilled my cultural obligation, and my loving husband would have been none the wiser. I'd have carried the burden of knowledge but I could have done that for Rob. I could've kept my husband, even if I had to spend the rest of my life carrying the guilt of deception. That had been Mother's idea all along, I was just too stupid to listen.

For me, the guilt would have been far easier than what came to pass. Rob didn't understand my culture and it wasn't his fault. I understood both cultures, however, and there was only one other person who was just as informed - Puko.

When my father fell ill, I returned home for his funeral. Puko was there and he helped me through my grief. He was so much more handsome as a man than what I remembered from our childhood. On the third day after my Father's funeral, Puko talked me into extending my time on the island, backed up by my mother. We spent many a day and evening catching up on our lives and many meals with both families. Both were very close, going back generations. The night I was originally slated to return to my husband in Boston, I drank too much punch and, feeling extremely relaxed, I allowed Puko to take me. He was gentle and kind that first time. I spent the night in his home cuddled up to him.

In the morning, the cuddling was the thing that disturbed me and brought on a bout of guilt. Sex was different among the islanders. Carefree and without obligation, or duty. Being back home may have contributed but it was sleeping with Puko that bothered me. I wasn't guilty enough to stop it from happening three more times while there.

Finally, two days before I was to leave for home, Puko reminded me of the tradition and said he expected me to complete it with him. I laughed at him, reminding Puko that I had a husband, one of the Western culture who'd never stand for such a thing and certainly would never be able to understand.

Upon arriving home, my first worry was that Rob would be able to read me and figure out I'd been unfaithful in our marriage. He didn't however, and I pushed my island fling to the recesses of my mind.

I was astounded when Mother reached out to me eight months before Rob and I were scheduled to travel to my home. In the letter, she informed me, not asked me, that Puko was back home and that the solstice ritual needed to be performed. She told me Puko had chosen me.

At first, I was smitten with the idea. Puko and I had grown up together on our island and in our culture, which meant far more than in the Western world. Both Puko and my family were of some significance on the island. Members of our families had been leaders - chieftains - going back a very long time. In more modern times, his grandfather and my father had been members of the elders' council. It was only natural that he chose me.

But then my thoughts returned to what I'd told Puko a few years earlier and what to do about Rob. My mother addressed it right from the beginning of her letter. Mother didn't beat around the bush, asking how much I loved Rob. I thought that an odd question. I loved him totally - completely. The next bit explained and took me aback.

Had we participated in any Western rituals that conflicted with our own? I never even thought about our wedding. That was my first fateful mistake. The more I thought about it in the days leading up to my reply to Mother, I leaned into the idea that Rob would probably not like what needed to be done but, as an intelligent man, he'd understand.

Lost and tired in my thoughts, I closed my journal, clasped the lock, and set it in my suitcase. The morning after next, I'd be making my first trip back to the States in four years. Aleki was on a mission to sell more of her art, in Los Angeles, planning to use the money for her upcoming wedding. She'd begged me to go with her as she wanted my help to navigate the large city and pick out a surprise wedding dress. I expected she was getting close to Makana, a young man with whom she spent quite a bit of time.

I had my reservations. Los Angeles was a world away from Boston but, in some ways, I felt like I was trespassing on Rob's front lawn. It felt like I was breaking yet another promise.

Puko was less than enthusiastic about my trip. At first, he'd refused, saying our son needed me there. When I told him I planned to take Ikaika, he became angry about that, too, and then a day later told me to go ahead.

Aleki, Akaika, and I boarded the ferry and waved goodbye. After so long, it felt strange and I was anxious. We spent most of the ride trying to keep my son away from the railing. On the long flight, Ikaika slept, and feeling as though I needed to break the ice on my long-strained relationship with Aleki, I started a superficial conversation.

"So," I began somewhat subdued, "which pieces are you presenting this time?"

Aleki peered at me out of the corner of her eye. I hated it when she did that. It wasn't a thing, pre-Rob. "I have eleven new works that need to be framed properly and some of those will go on display in Los Angeles at the art gallery on Wilshire Blvd."

That was all she offered, as usual, these past few years. I decided as sisters we might as well get some things out in the open if we were going to be spending a week together.

"Aleki," I began, facing her and hoping she'd reciprocate. "About Rob." I paused for effect. "I'm sure I've never apologized properly for putting that on you. I truly appreciate what you did to help him back onto his feet. He looked devastated from the minute I returned until..."

"No need to apologize," she stated briskly. "Rob was over you long before you returned from the mountain."

There it was. Rob had gotten to my young, naïve sister. She'd been drawn in, of course, by his pain but also his bravado, I thought.

"Yes," I agreed trying to keep our talk nonconfrontational. "I'm sure he was. He's a good man and I'm positive he's moved on splendidly."

Aleki glared at me then she turned and looked out the window, seemingly deep in thought. I picked up a magazine out of the seat back and thumbed through it. When I got to the back, the art section, I saw something that caught my eye. Then I read the footnote. It was one of Aleki's paintings that had sold in New York for over ten thousand dollars.

"Is this yours?" I asked, shocked. She just nodded and turned away.

I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. Rob was the least of my concerns at the moment, although my thoughts of him were never far off. I had bigger troubles at home with Puko and if I could play my cards right, I just might be able to kill two birds with one stone.

The rest of our travel day was hectic. I'd forgotten how many people were to be found in an international airport. The hustle and bustle there was so far removed from our world on the island that I felt hurried and cramped, and I became anxious.

Finally in our hotel, we at a light meal in their restaurant and I had two American beers with dinner. We returned to our rooms, Aleki had paid for two instead of sharing one and that felt odd. It underlined how far we'd drifted apart.

I got my son down for bed and stood looking out the slider over the California sunset. A shiver ran through me and I went to turn off the air conditioner. Los Angeles was already too cold for my liking without any help. Laying in bed, my thoughts returned to Rob, which inevitably took my mind back to my current husband. I grabbed my journal and sat in bed with the covers pulled up.

"Ikaika was a newborn when Puko's business partner and another friend came to the island. My husband planned to sell his photography studio and reinvest the money in anticipation of becoming an island elder.

During the third night, the men sat around the fire pit outside our home as I sat in the living room reading and wanting to give him space to enjoy his friends.

I began to hear a conversation as Puko was getting more animated as he talked and I moved to the chair near the window. One of his pals was saying, "So he hit you and you didn't give it back to him?"

"No, dipshit," Puko expounded, "I had to be the bigger man for once. There were fifty of my future followers watching. In less than a year I'll be running everything on this island. None of the other council will dare oppose me. I had to show restraint."

The other man asked, "So he what? Just left the island?"

"Yeah," Puko said proudly. "I mean he finagled a deal to take Mel's younger sister with him for a while. I didn't care."

"That's not what I meant," the man continued. "I thought you said the guy was your childhood friend."

"Nah," Puko replied in a sickening tone. "I only hung out with him because I sucked at math and science and the little dweeb did my homework for me. When I returned to the island and figured out he was married to Mele, I knew I'd take her from him."

Just then, all of them turned due to the squeaky screen door opening. I glared at Puko as I hated him at that moment. He gave a sheepish grin and said "What?"

Later that night, Puko wanted sex. I knew what he really wanted and that was for his friends to hear what a great man he was, through our home's thin walls. I was disgusted with him for what he'd said. I told him to go have sex with his buddies, which almost earned me a slap in the face.

After his colleagues left the island, I caught a ration from Puko, him threatening me, demanding 'Didn't I know who he was?'

I laughed menacingly, telling him I was starting to figure out exactly who he was. Then I took Ikaika to my mother's and we spent the night. Life was frosty for several days with Puko finally apologizing and saying he didn't mean anything. He was drunk. I knew better.

For weeks, I reflected on my part in the end of my marriage - my entire relationship - with Rob. It occurred to me that I was just in guilty as Puko in the blatant disrespect of Rob and his feelings. That caused me a six-month bout of depression, constantly wishing I wouldn't have been so cruel to Rob. By that time, it was clear to me that I shouldn't have ever brought Rob to the island. What I couldn't yet admit was that I should never have agreed to the solstice ritual in the first place.

I slept fitfully that night, dreaming of the days immediately after returning to the village from the mountain cabin.

Aleki was certainly in her element at the art gallery. She'd been traveling back to the US almost every six months, sharing her art. I thought back to the plane magazine. I had no idea she'd become famous. In many ways, I was proud of her, even though the two of us were so different.

After showing a few more works and agreeing with the owner of the gallery which would be displayed for sale, Aleki was handed another five-figure check. At least one of us was doing well.

Later that evening, I thought about my life in America. Then I grabbed my journal again.

My life changed when mom and dad decided to send me to live with my aunt at the age of fourteen. Aunt Enele was steady and wise. Her name meant wisdom, so fitting. She was the kind of woman who would never answer you directly, rather pausing and choosing her words carefully, especially if it was a teachable moment.

Enele embodied most of the traits my mother lacked. I looked up to her in almost every way. The way she carried herself made me want to learn from her, to pay her all of my attention. She helped me understand the West and she guided me through my teen years and high school. It was a far cry from my island childhood.

In college, I met Rob. He impressed me in many ways. First and foremost, he was a simple man - kind, humble, and easy-going. He reminded me so much of the islanders - my people. He made me feel both safe and comfortable.

When I accepted his marriage proposal, my father was quite happy. I think he saw it as a culmination of my time in the United States. Mother, on the other hand, seemed standoffish, angry even. She didn't outwardly show her feelings, it was just something I saw on her face at the wedding and after.

Rob and I had a plan for everything - another thing I loved about our life together. We decided to work hard in our careers and hold off on having children for the following eight to ten years. Our lives together in Boston were beyond bliss. Rob's parents - adoptive - had moved quite some distance but we still saw them once during the summer and the holidays. Life was exquisite until my father died.

The next few days went by in a rush. Ikaika and I accompanied Aleki to two more galleries where to my surprise, she also purchased some art. When we weren't doing business, the three of us swam and played at the hotel pool. Aleki was great with Ikaika, reminding me of my Aunt Enele.

I was pleased that during our time, Aleki's position or maybe her idea of me changed. We had some really nice conversations about her art. Only once, when she was discussing a piece she'd recently sold in Boston, did Rob come into the conversation.

"So, you've seen him recently?" I weakly asked.

"Yes, Mele," she said with her trademark sigh. "We've seen each other often, truth be told."

She seemed to have more to say but held it.

"How is he?" I was prying and she knew. "Damn, I've been thinking of him since we got here."

That earned me a strange look. "He's doing well. We've remained close friends despite the distance."

"Is he remarried?" I could see I'd crossed a line, but I had to know.

"Not yet," she said with bated breath. "I think it may be soon, though."

"I wish I could see him," Where had that come from? "Just once more."

My sister actually smiled at that. "Why? Because you want to unload your guilt or is it because there's trouble in paradise? I seriously doubt he'd see you anyway."

That felt like a slap in the face. My anger and defensiveness rose quickly but I caught myself.

"Neither." she saw through me, I could tell.

"Mele," she turned toward me, sitting on her legs. "There's something I've always wanted to ask you. I know our relationship has been... strained since I went to Boston with Rob so I never did. When exactly did you decide to complete the ritual?"

It was a question I'd been expecting for a long time by then. "I've tried to answer that to myself for some time. To be completely honest, I think I knew when I was home for Dad's funeral. We discussed it - Puko and I - and I'd like to say I brushed it off, maybe convinced myself it was just a fantasy and the day would never come. I always thought Rob would..."

"No, you didn't," she interrupted. "You knew better. There's no way you could marry him, live together for nearly nine years, and not know."

I looked slightly away, embarrassingly. She was right and we both knew it. That indisputable fact did not put me in a good light.

"What was Mother's role in the whole sorry thing?" she kept prying.

"She told me, in no uncertain terms, that I would perform the ritual," I said. "Still, we both know I could have... no, should have said 'no'."

Aleki turned away and looked out the balcony slider over the city lights. "You, Mother, and Puko - all of you - almost destroyed a good man. You understand that much, Mele, right?"

I nodded. There weren't any other words. Aleki told me good night and headed to her room. I had no desire to write in my journal that night but I'd had a long overdue conversation with my sister.

The following day, I went along with Aleki to pick out a wedding dress. I was surprised by the fact that she was going for an American dress with almost no ties to our island customs. At least she was going cream and not white.

She asked for and considered my opinions on the three she liked. Ikaika was starting to act up, probably so unused to being away from home. That night, we ordered room service and Aleki hung her new dress in the closet. She was beaming and it reminded me of my American wedding.

"Is that a surprise for Makana?" I asked, still curious about her choice.

Aleki looked at me warily. "This isn't for Makana," she sighed. "Why would you ask that?"

Now I was surprised. "Aren't you two getting married?" I was confused. "I thought you two were getting close. Mom thought so. Wait, if you're not marrying him why the dress?"

"Mele," she sat next to me. "Makana is a wonderful friend. He's marrying his girl but that girl isn't me. I've spent time with him trying to help him with his art, showing him how to sell it, here and elsewhere. His pottery is amazing."

She sat there letting things sink in.

"My dear sister," she continued as if she were the older one. "When was the last time that you and I spoke about anything meaningful?"

"It's been... a while," I knew exactly what she meant. "I've been so busy with Ikaika and with Puko. Life hasn't been wonderful for me. Last night you asked why I did what I did to Rob and you also asked why I wanted to see him again. The truth is, I love him and I miss him. The mistakes I made were horrific and I know that. I'm sure he'd never believe me if I told him how I felt. Puko isn't the man I hoped he'd be. Then again, both Mother and Puko promised me they'd do everything in their power to make sure I left the island with Rob after, well, everything."