the house of pride(傲慢之家)-第17章
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days；〃 he answered。 〃Nothing ever happens。 It is not too hot。 It is
not too cold。 It is always just right。 Have you noticed how the land
and the sea breathe turn and turn about？〃
Indeed； I had noticed that delicious rhythmic； breathing。 Each
morning I had watched the sea…breeze begin at the shore and slowly
extend seaward as it blew the mildest； softest whiff of ozone to the land。
It played over the sea； just faintly darkening its surface； with here and
there and everywhere long lanes of calm； shifting； changing； drifting；
according to the capricious kisses of the breeze。 And each evening I
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had watched the sea breath die away to heavenly calm； and heard the
land breath softly make its way through the coffee trees and monkey…
pods。
〃It is a land of perpetual calm；〃 I said。 〃Does it ever blow here？… …
ever really blow？ You know what I mean。〃
Cudworth shook his head and pointed eastward。
〃How can it blow； with a barrier like that to stop it？〃
Far above towered the huge bulks of Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa；
seeming to blot out half the starry sky。 Two miles and a half above our
heads they reared their own heads； white with snow that the tropic sun
had failed to melt。
〃Thirty miles away； right now； I'll wager； it is blowing forty miles an
hour。〃
I smiled incredulously。
Cudworth stepped to the lanai telephone。 He called up； in
succession； Waimea； Kohala； and Hamakua。 Snatches of his
conversation told me that the wind was blowing： 〃Rip…snorting and
back…jumping； eh？ 。 。 。 How long？ 。 。 。 Only a week？ 。 。 。 Hello； Abe； is
that you？ 。 。 。 Yes； yes 。 。 。 You WILL plant coffee on the Hamakua
coast 。 。 。 Hang your wind…breaks！ You should see MY trees。〃
〃Blowing a gale；〃 he said to me； turning from hanging up the
receiver。 〃I always have to joke Abe on his coffee。 He has five
hundred acres； and he's done marvels in wind…breaking； but how he
keeps the roots in the ground is beyond me。 Blow？ It always blows
on the Hamakua side。 Kohala reports a schooner under double reefs
beating up the channel between Hawaii and Maui； and making heavy
weather of it。〃
〃It is hard to realize；〃 I said lamely。 〃Doesn't a little whiff of it ever
eddy around somehow； and get down here？〃
〃Not a whiff。 Our land…breeze is absolutely of no kin； for it begins
this side of Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa。 You see； the land radiates its
heat quicker than the sea； and so； at night； the land breathes over the sea。
In the day the land becomes warmer than the sea； and the sea breathes
over the land 。 。 。 Listen！ Here comes the land…breath now； the
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mountain wind。〃
I could hear it coming； rustling softly through the coffee trees；
stirring the monkey…pods； and sighing through the sugar…cane。 On the
lanai the hush still reigned。 Then it came； the first feel of the mountain
wind； faintly balmy； fragrant and spicy； and cool； deliciously cool； a
silken coolness； a wine…like coolnesscool as only the mountain wind of
Kona can be cool。
〃Do you wonder that I lost my heart to Kona eighteen years ago？〃 he
demanded。 〃I could never leave it now。 I think I should die。 It
would be terrible。 There was another man who loved it； even as I。 I
think he loved it more； for he was born here on the Kona coast。 He was
a great man； my best friend； my more than brother。 But he left it； and
he did not die。〃
〃Love？〃 I queried。 〃A woman？〃
Cudworth shook his head。
〃Nor will he ever come back； though his heart will be here until he
dies。〃
He paused and gazed down upon the beachlights of Kailua。 I smoked
silently and waited。
〃He was already in love 。 。 。 with his wife。 Also； he had three
children； and he loved them。 They are in Honolulu now。 The boy is
going to college。〃
〃Some rash act？〃 I questioned； after a time； impatiently。
He shook his head。 〃Neither guilty of anything criminal； nor
charged with anything criminal。 He was the Sheriff of Kona。〃
〃You choose to be paradoxical；〃 I said。
〃I suppose it does sound that way；〃 he admitted； 〃and that is the
perfect hell of it。〃
He looked at me searchingly for a moment； and then abruptly took up
the tale。
〃He was a leper。 No； he was not born with itno one is born with it；
it came upon him。 This manwhat does it matter？ Lyte Gregory was
his name。 Every kamaina knows the story。 He was straight American
stock； but he was built like the chieftains of old Hawaii。 He stood six
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feet three。 His stripped weight was two hundred and twenty pounds；
not an ounce of which was not clean muscle or bone。 He was the
strongest man I have ever seen。 He was an athlete and a giant。 He
was a god。 He was my friend。 And his heart and his soul were as big
and as fine as his body。
〃I wonder what you would do if you saw your friend； your brother； on
the slippery lip of a precipice； slipping； slipping； and you were able to do
nothing。 That was just it。 I could do nothing。 I saw it coming； and I
could do nothing。 My God； man； what could I do？ There it was；
malignant and incontestable； the mark of the thing on his brow。 No one
else saw it。 It was because I loved him so； I do believe； that I alone
saw it。 I could not credit the testimony of my senses。 It was too
incredibly horrible。 Yet there it was； on his brow； on his ears。 I had
seen it； the slight puff of the earlobesoh； so imperceptibly slight。 I
watched it for months。 Then； next； hoping against hope； the darkening
of the skin above both eyebrowsoh； so faint； just like the dimmest
touch of sunburn。 I should have thought it sunburn but that there was a
shine to it； such an invisible shine； like a little highlight seen for a
moment and gone the next。 I tried to believe it was sunburn； only I
could not。 I knew better。 No one noticed it but me。 No one ever
noticed it except Stephen Kaluna； and I did not know that till afterward。
But I saw it coming； the whole damnable； unnamable awfulness of it；
but I refused to think about the future。 I was afraid。 I could not。
And of nights I cried over it。
〃He was my friend。 We fished sharks on Niihau together。 We
hunted wild cattle on Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa。 We broke horses
and branded steers on the Carter Ranch。 We hunted goats through
Haleakala。 He taught me diving and surfing until I was nearly as clever
as he； and he was cleverer than the average Kanaka。 I have seen him
dive in fifteen fathoms； and he could stay down two minutes。 He was
an amphibian and a mountaineer。 He could climb wherever a goat
dared climb。 He was afraid of nothing。 He was on the wrecked Luga；
and he swam thirty miles in thirty…six hours in a heavy sea。 He could
fight his way out through breaking combers that would batter you and
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me to a jelly。 He was a great； glorious man…god。 We went through the
Revolution together。 We were both romantic loyalists。 He was shot
twice and sentenced to death。 But he was too great a man for the
republicans to kill。 He laughed at them。 Later； they gave him honour
and made him Sheriff of Kona。 He was a simple man； a boy that never
grew up。 His was no intricate brain pattern。 He had no twists nor
quirks in his mental processes。 He went straight to the point； and his
points were always simple。
〃And he was sanguine。 Never have I known so confident a man； nor
a man so satisfied and happy。 He did not ask anything from life。
There was nothing left to be desired。 For him life had no arrears。 He
had been paid in full； cash down； and in advance。 What more could he
possibly desire than that magnificent body； that iron constitution； that
immunity from all ordinary ills； and that lowly wholesomeness of soul？
Physically he was perfect。 He had never been sick in his life。 He did
not know what a headache was。 When I was so afflicted he used to
look at me in wonder； and make me laugh with his clumsy attempts at
sympathy。 He did not understand such a thing as a headache。 He
could not understand。 Sanguine？ No wonder。 How could he be
otherwis
