Dream of Bones and Other Things

 By Marie Alohalani Brown

This short story is based on traditional understandings of moʻo akua and includes key motifs found across moʻolelo and kaʻao. The dream of bones is based on a reoccurring dream that my mother had when I was a child.

     My wife tells me that she has, yet again, dreamt of bones buried beneath the mango tree in our front yard. She has been having this dream for several nights now. With each dream, the bones are closer to the surface. She worries. She says that in a few more nights, they will be freed and that something terrible will happen to someone in our family. Mangos lie rotting on the ground. Neither of us go near the tree now. 
    While my wife dreams of bones, I dream of . . . of other things. Disturbing things. A beautiful woman calls to me. Her call grows stronger each night I dream of her. I don’t know how much longer I can resist it. 
 
                                                                       *  *  *
 
     A greenish froth covers the stagnant brackish water of the shallow pool, the summer remnant of a seasonal stream bordering the beach. The surrounding growth, usually verdant, is a sickly yellow. During the rainy season, the pool quickly turns into a rapidly flowing stream that swallows up its sandy banks and cuts a deep path in the dunes as it rushes down towards the winter surf. In the middle of the pool, a glossy moʻo ʻalā, nearly a foot in length, lies sunning itself on a dense water-worn volcanic rock whence it takes its name. Before long, another lizard joins the first. Others follow. Soon the archipelago of moss-covered stones teems with moʻo ʻalā.
      On the largest stone of all sits a young woman with her feet immersed in the water as she strings delicate ʻilima blossoms into lei ʻāpiki (the lei that attracts mischievous spirits). The woman’s face is hidden beneath a cascade of long dark hair, which tumbles past her hips into the water. A few hours later the lei ʻāpiki adorns her head and neck. Emitting a chirping-clicking sound, “Kikikiki,” she calls the moʻo ʻalā to her. She laughs as they crawl over her. Suddenly something plops into the water. The ʻoʻopu have leapt from tide pool to tide pool to join them. Hers is the power to attract fish . . . and men. 
    A breeze arrives, and the woman pauses to scent the air. The man approaches. She visits him in his dreams while his wife dreams of bones. 
     The woman begins to chant softly, and the lizards fuse into her skin. Her face shimmers like radiating heat; wavering briefly between human and reptilian before settling back into the guise she has chosen—human. 
    Large black eyes watch as the man draws nearer. She leaves the stone and wades through the water to meet him. His eyes widen when he sees her beauty, but then . . . she smiles, revealing sharp pointed teeth. He steps back, confused. She quickly moves forward and grabs his hand. The moment she touches him he becomes docile. She leads him deep into the valley to her dwelling. Hours later, they arrive to her thick grove of ferns that hide the collapsed roof of a lava tube. She gently pushes the man through the narrow opening and then follows him.
 
                                                                         *  *  *
 
      The rainy season has come and gone. Within the cave, the moʻo woman lies next to her human lover, caressing him. Her hand leaves a trail of slime along his body. His skin, cold to the touch, is pale and water logged from prolonged contact with her skin during the months she has held him captive. His eyes stare upwards, but in death, he is sightless. The moʻo takes his hand and lifts it gently to her mouth as if to bestow a kiss. Instead, she bites the hand off at the wrist. She delicately peels off the flesh with her teeth into small strips and swallows them. She reforms the little bones into their former shape with the help of a fine cord made of olonā fiber. Finished, she dangles her creation, then gently shakes it. Pleased with it, she smiles and caresses the large mound of her distended belly. The man has served his purpose. 
 
                                                                       *  *  *
 
      It is late summer. The moʻo ʻalā surround the moʻo woman as she sits on her favorite stone in the stagnant pool with her infant daughter on her lap. She dangles the hand bones of her daughter’s sire. The child, pleased with the rattling sound it makes, smiles.