A Novel by Kawika A. Stafford

Chapter 24

1965 turned out to be a good year. That was the year that Sonny Ray learned how to fly. He had attended a private school to learn. As it turns out, no one else knew about it because its founder, and flight instructor was only five years old. Sonny Ray had discovered his hidden talent in Japan, while dreaming in his bed one night. He lived on Misawa Air Force Base with his family. Sonny Ray called his school the run, bounce, and fly school of Japan.

While his father fought bravely in Vietnam on behalf of politicians, and drug traffickers the world over,

Sonny Ray honed his fledgling flying skills. After school, he would walk the steep hills of the Air base, storing the breadth and the length of these mighty air strips in his mind. This was done in the hopes of glorious flight come bed time. The premise for flight was simplistic in nature. In order to get air, thus freeing yourself to fly wherever it is you wished to go, you first had to run very, very fast.

Secondly, it was the head flight instructors opinion that success could be acheived by running downhill on the aforementioned steep hills. The next stage of flight, and perhaps the most crucial, was the bounce. It was all about timing really.

When Sonny Ray grew up he recalled that his flight school protocol very much mirrored the track and field event of the triple jump, you just had to feel it. When you did, and you found that sweet spot on your board; you were up and away, cruising the perilous skies of yesteryear. In his diminutive, and inexperienced tenure in life, and in flight,

Sonny Ray made the grievous error of attempting flight after consuming great quantities of his mom’s world famous spaghetti and meat balls.

There was something about the properties of pasta that caused his night visions, his dreams, to have the ability to at times be extremely prodigious. Sonny Ray began his first flight as he usually did; by promptly crashing. Not one to be easily deterred, Sonny Ray got that look of teeth gritting determination, because this five year old kid was born to run, to bounce, to fly!! Sonny Ray hit his mark and in the blink of an eye he was airborne.

However, this flight on this night, would easily by far be the scariest flight to date. Upon gaining altitude the five year old Sonny Ray immediately felt like his body had become powerless. Even with his arms and legs extended out in super hero mode, he lacked the ability to control in what direction of flight this dream was leading him to.

Sonny Ray could see that he was being led away from the Japanese archipelago, and out to sea.

Sonny Ray made several attempts to steer himself back in the direction of where his family lie sleeping. But to no avail. Being so far from land Sonny Ray grew weary from the struggle.

Flying over the pacific ocean, the yellow moonlight penetrated the soft and shimmering surface of the sea, dispersing its translucent light in a sensuous pairing of effectual creation.

The light comforted the young boy, and his body began to relax. Sonny Ray looked ahead, and he thought he saw a big mountain jutting out of the sea. The little boy was sure he had spotted land. The closer he came to land however, the more he knew he was not in Japan anymore. Even at his young age he knew the power of dreams. His tūtū had taught him that.

His grandma was a quiet soul, dignified, a hawaiian woman from a different era.

In the distance the little boy could see lava erupting out from Kīlauea, rising up a thousand feet into the darkened skies, flowing relentlessly to the sea, preparing for an epic battle with an ancient enemy.

It had not been quite a year since his grandmother had died. Sonny Ray spotted his uncle Walter’s house. The black eagle dream circled his grandma’s house, but continued on, gradually drifting east. Sonny Ray soon realized the giant predator had landed in the Imiola church cemetery. Many of his relatives were buried here. His grandma had died of cancer right before the little boy’s father had received his orders to Vietnam. In the corner of the cemetery where his grandmother had been laid to rest a year prior,

Sonny Ray observed her aluminum casket as it laid upon the grass near her headstone, with a large pile of dirt on one side of the casket. The little boy was afraid, but Sonny Ray missed his grandma. He crept slowly toward the open casket. Little Sonny Ray slowly approached the casket, and eventually stood next to his grandmother. She lie in a peaceful state. Her down turned mouth though, made the little boy feel sad.

Without warning his grandma sat up. Sonny Ray shrieked as loud as he could. No one seemed to hear his cries. Then she spoke: “Eia no Sonny Ray, Eia no Sonny Ray,” she cried out in decree. “E huli I wahi ma keia ao. Maopopo wau, ua ‘ike au ka home I loko o ku’u pu’uwai. Ke maopopo he hawai’i au.” Her mele rolled over the little boy like a surfer being pounded in the surf, after being sucked over the falls on a large winter swell on the north shore.

His grandma said: “This is for Sonny Ray, this is for Sonny Ray. Trying to find a place in the world. Now I know, now I see, my home is in my heart, as long as I remember; I am hawaiian.”

Tears flowed down the little boy’s face. He looked up to see a large shadow in the grass of the cemetery. Squinting, he gazed upward, and observed a large dark bird hovering. The trade winds blew softly through the young boy’s long wavy hair. Sonny Ray turned his attention back to his grandmother’s grave; but she, and her shiny casket were gone. The little boy was confused. He sat down on the soft green grass of the cemetery and began to weep.

That mele was a song, a song his grandma had taught him to to sing so that he would never forget where he was from; and to remind him that he not only was kānaka maoli, but was part of a proud culture that was his to learn and to keep if he so chose to.

Sonny Ray missed his grandma. He missed his island home.

The little boy searched the sky. The large predator was gone. The boy was beginning to miss his brothers and sister. He was hungry. He missed his mom. Wind began to swirl lightly in and around the cemetery. The little boy had become weary, and soon fell fast asleep, lying in the lush grass of the cemetery.

A small branch from a nearby tree popped the little boy on the side of his head. It was the branch of a Kukui tree with a kukui nut attached to it. The little boy had awakened, and sat up as he held the branch in his hand, curious now. The kukui nut has many uses in the Hawaiian culture, one being the use of it to burn in lamps. Others believe it to symbolize enlightenment.

The winds began to increase and again, Sonny Ray was struck by yet another kukui nut branch.

This time on his face.

Sonny Ray opened his eyes.

He was slightly disoriented, but Sonny Ray could swear he saw an upside down eagle peering down at him from the window, not five feet from his face. Sonny Ray had slept beneath the open window of the hogan. He arose slowly focusing his eyes in the dimly lit room. In the open window of the hogan sat the largest, blackest eagle he had ever seen. Not only had he never seen one; he didn’t know they even existed. The old man lay still not wanting to interrupt this rarest of introductions.

The black eagle sat with watchful eyes. Something was in its right claw, but Sonny Ray could not tell what it was.

After several moments of reflective introducton, the black eagle maneuvered itself around on the narrow ledge of the window, and leapt out and away; into the cool stillness of morning. Sonny Ray was wanting to observe the black eagle in flight, but as Sonny Ray approached the window, he was drawn to, and became focused on a small green branch on the window ledge. It had arrested his attention, and he slowly reached for the branch. Sonny Ray held it in his hands for several moments, looking at it in utter disbelief.

It was a small branch from a Kukui nut tree.

Sonny Ray looked around in a state of confusion. He needed some fresh air. Sonny Ray zipped up his Carhartt jacket and slowly closed the door of the hogan so as not to disturb Cyrus. It was cold outside but it felt comforting for some reason.

Sonny Ray began to coach himself up. His mind must have been playing tricks on him.

It surely had to be some type of pain induced stress, because there is no way that black eagle had a kukui branch in its claw, no way.

This particular tree is on a short list of places it can be found in the world; and Arizona is definitely not on that list. “Where did that black eagle come from anyway?” Sonny Ray was feeling frantic.

It felt like he had been dreaming all night.

He had some questions for that old man in the morning.

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