Kauai, Hawaii 1924
Lucy Dillow lay on her narrow bed, listening to the waves crash against the beach and tried to figure out what had woken her before the sun was fully risen. She swung her legs off the side of the bed. A slight vibration tickled her feet. Another tremor. She sighed. They were becoming all too familiar.
The aroma of frying sausage and sweet bread greeted her as she padded out of her room and into the small kitchen nook. “Good morning, Mama.” She planted a kiss on her mother’s cheek.
Mama took one glance at her bare feet and frowned. “You know I don’t like you walking around like one of the natives.”
“I just woke up. Did you feel the quake?” Lucy snatched a piece of sausage out of the pan, tossing it into her mouth before it burned her fingers.
“Who didn’t? It seems as if they arrive every morning.”
“And throughout the day.” Lucy moved to the window. The sight of the ocean and the scent of the salt-filled breeze greeted her every morning. “I’d like to take a walk up to the volcano and see what’s going on.”
“Too dangerous.” Mama handed her a plate. “You’ve work to do and students to teach. Your father is already out visiting those we minister to. You musn’t shirk your duties.”
Lucy quickly ate before shoving her feet into the simple leather shoes her mother relented on letting her wear. If she had her choice, she’d run barefoot all day like the children she taught. After securing her hair in a bun and dressing in a simple navy skirt and white blouse, she grabbed her bag of teaching materials and headed out the door. She didn’t have far to go. The tiny one-room schoolhouse was next door. Even at work, she couldn’t get far from the demanding eye of Mama.
Pasting a smile on her face, she stepped into the school and wrote the day’s vocabulary words, in English, on the board. When she realized she was writing words that had to do with love and romance, she started over. Finished, she wiped the chalk off her hands and stood in the doorway, ready to greet her students. Romance wasn’t something she would find on the island. Not as a foreigner, anyway.
A man on a large red horse rode by. The sun cast highlights of blue on his black hair. His dark eyes were friendly as he gave her a nod. That was the type of man she wanted to marry someday. A strong man, a paniolo, a cowboy, but unfortunately, he looked like a native, and the natives didn’t marry haole’s, foreigners. She tossed him a smile and withdrew into the shadows of the schoolroom.
God had a husband for her, surely. All she needed to do was keep the faith and keep her eyes open. Her future could very well land in her lap. She might miss it if she wasn’t paying attention.
She glanced at the gradual rise of land to her right. Smoke billowed from the crater of the Kilauea Volcano. Nothing new. The crater was always smoking, but the sky looked darker that morning.
A military jeep from Fort DeRussy rumbled past with several civilians as passengers. They drove toward the plume of smoke. Geologists? No matter about Mama’s warning, Lucy was going to the crater when school ended that day. She wanted to see for herself whether there was anything to be concerned about.
Her twelve students arrived, all around the age of eight, sporting smiles and fresh-washed faces. “Aloha,” she greeted. “Welcome.” In order to teach all the children who needed her, she taught different ages in the morning and afternoon and on alternate days of the week. The small building wasn’t big enough for more bodies at one time.
The children took their seats and pulled out their slates and chalk to write down the vocabulary words. They spent the next hour going over the words and their meanings in English. The students soaked up her teaching like suntanned sponges.
By the end of the day, exhaustion rested on Lucy’s shoulders like a wet woolen shawl. Still, she hadn’t changed her mind about visiting the volcano. She set her bag of supplies in her bedroom, grabbed her boots which were sturdier than the slippers she wore, and snuck past her mother cooking in the kitchen.
Outside, she removed her shoes and started the long walk up the road toward Kilauea. Another military truck rattled by, the soldier giving a friendly honk on his horn before stopping beside her. “Can I give you a ride?”
“No, thank you. It’s a lovely day to walk.”
“If you’re heading to the volcano, it’s quite a hike.”
“I am, and I’ll be fine.”
He roared away, covering Lucy in a thin layer of volcanic dust. She brushed at her skirt and continued toward her destination. Dirt washed off easily enough, there was no cause to be offended by his leaving so quickly. He hadn’t meant her any harm.
She lifted her face to the late afternoon sun. Life on the island was good, peaceful. There was no other place she ever wanted to live, although a short visit to the mainland wouldn’t be a bad idea. She could replenish her school supplies and keep up on current worldly events. She sighed. Mama and Papa would never allow such a trip. Not alone, anyway. And, if Lucy were to go, they’d most likely ask her to stay there.
The air began smelling acrid the closer she got to the crater and pebbles littered the ground. She stopped to put her boots back on. By now, a crowd had gathered on the road, all heading toward the towering smoke. Behind them, rode the man Lucy had spotted that morning. He had donned a black cowboy hat to shade his face and made an imposing figure as he made his way to the top of the hill. He reminded Lucy of a general riding behind his army.
She smiled at her silliness and finished lacing her boots. Hiking her skirts, she dashed after the crowd.
Several men converged at the crater’s mouth, arm movements and body language signifying they were in deep discussion. They stopped talking when Lucy approached.
She stepped forward and peered into the crater, the heat forcing her to step back. “What happened to the lava?”
“That’s what we want to know, little lady.” An older gentleman smoothed his mustache. “We’re geologists here to find out what happened. Step back, now.”
“The seismic activity has been increasing the last few weeks,” the cowboy said, tilting his hat back. “While she’s always expressed herself with smoke and fire, the ground shakes several times a day. Those rocks,” he pointed to a couple of fist-sized rocks. “weren’t there yesterday.”
“Now, Mr. Garrison, it’s quite possible somebody put those rocks there,” the geologist said. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. These tourists are always picking up something as a souvenir.”
“I’m not jumping to anything, Mr. Woodward. This island is my home. I know this mountain. Don’t discount my observations.” Mr. Garrison stiffened. “Are we in danger of an eruption or not?”
“It’s too soon to tell. “We’ll know in a few days, after we do some tests.” Mr. Woodward slapped a hat on his head and pushed his way through the crowd.
Lucy dashed forward. “Mr. Garrison, please tell me what you know.”
“You heard the man. We don’t know anything.” His dark eyes narrowed. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s dangerous.” He turned and marched away.
“I have as much of a right to know what is going on as you do.” She ran to catch up with him. “Are you sure the rocks came from the volcano?”
“Yes. I’ve come here every day since April first.” He swung into his saddle. “Go home, Miss—”
“Dillow. Lucy Dillow.”
“The missionary’s daughter?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I’ve heard about you. The keiki love you.”
Her heart swelled. She knew the students enjoyed school, but to know they were talking about her filled her heart with joy. “As I do them.”
“Good. Stay away from the danger up here and focus on your teaching.”
She gasped and stomped her foot as he rode away. What an arrogant man. Focus on her teaching indeed!