Murder on Easter Island (21 page)

Daniel had never felt such rage in his life, and his pressing fatigue suddenly became a forgotten memory. He crawled up as fast as he was able to the place where Ropata once stood, barely dodging the swipes of Atamu’s knife.

Atamu said, “How long I have waited for this moment. Dan-iel, now it is your turn to die.”

Daniel answered by striking him with a lightning-fast blow to the chest. Atamu momentarily bent over from the punch, then tried to kick Daniel’s legs out from under him, as he had done with Ropata. Daniel sidestepped the kick and once again landed a crushing blow, this time to Atamu’s flank.

Atamu groaned and, as Daniel moved in, unexpectedly sliced the air in front of Daniel’s face. Daniel leaped back but lost his balance and fell off the edge. It took every bit of strength he had left to catch the rim with his fingers.

Atamu smiled his skeletal grin and smugly said, “Well, Dan-iel, it seems you are in the same predicament as your friend. Let me help you join him at the bottom.”

As Atamu leaned over him with knife in hand, Daniel found a last burst of strength and grabbed Atamu’s wrist. Atamu’s eyes bulged as Daniel yanked him over the brink.

At the last second Atamu grabbed Daniel’s hand, Atamu’s knife spiraling away. Now Daniel was clinging to the ledge with one hand, while Atamu held on for dear life to the other.

Sheer panic spread across Atamu’s face. “Dan-iel! Don’t let me die!”

“You scum,” Daniel said, “you deserve to die — but not now.” As Daniel started to pull him up, their hands began to slip apart.

“Dan-iel, hold tighter!” Atamu demanded.

“I’m trying.”

“Nooooooo!” Atamu screamed as he finally slipped out of Daniel’s grip, flailing wildly as he fell to the ground far below.

No one could survive such a fall, reasoned Daniel.

Justice is done.

Daniel pulled himself over the edge of Kari Kari. He paused here for a moment, remembering how he had frozen as he tried to go over the edge those days ago. He looked down at the beach and discovered that a handful of stragglers were now ashore and taking a wide berth around the bodies scattered there. As far as he could tell, no one else was on the cliff, and those on the beach had no chance of catching him.

Daniel could barely walk as he stumbled down the trail which led into Rano Kau. After what seemed like an eternity, he struggled out of the dormant volcano toward Orongo, where a cheering crowd awaited. As he grew closer, he saw Mahina — tears streaming down her cheeks.

The group of shamans stood at the front. Paoa stepped forward to greet Daniel.

Daniel said to Paoa, “Where is Rapahango? I must speak with him.”

Paoa turned around and called out in a thunderous voice, “Rapahango, step forward!”

From the crowd Rapahango emerged and stood facing Daniel, spear in hand.

“Rapahango,” Daniel announced, “Atamu is dead.”

A loud gasp went up from the crowd.

“Now as second-in-command, you are the leader of the Miru warriors, so I declare that you are the Birdman for the coming year.”

A loud cheer went up as Daniel unstrapped the reed basket from his head, removed the egg and handed it to Rapahango, who dropped his spear and received it with his palms up.

Rapahango screamed at the top of his lungs, and along with the ecstatic crowd, began to dance down the hillside.

“Well done,” Paoa said. “I knew I had chosen well.” He lowered his voice and whispered, “Did you find the evil you were searching for?”

“I did.”

“Atamu?”

Daniel nodded.

“I might have guessed,” Paoa said with a knowing look. “I’d like to hear more, but now I have other duties to perform, which will take a number of days. If I don’t see you again, safe travels back to your home, wherever it may be.”

“Thank you,” Daniel said. His heart felt heavy. “I’ll miss you and your wisdom.”

“And I you and yours.” With that, Paoa momentarily grasped Daniel’s shoulder, then he stepped away and followed the crowd. He glanced back briefly and nodded his head in approval.

Daniel saw Mahina walking toward him. As they embraced and held each other tightly, Mahina whispered in his ear, “Dan-iel, you are strong and brave, just as I thought you were. I love you with all my heart.”

Daniel’s exhaustion suddenly hit him, and everything became fuzzy. He barely eked out, “I love you too . . .”

As he passed out, Mahina’s strong arms caught him.

W
hen Daniel opened his eyes, he discovered he was in a small, dimly lit room with Mahina leaning over him. Groggy as he was, he managed a weak, “Where am I?”

“In Pakia and Uka’s hut,” answered Mahina softly.

“Aren’t we in Orongo?”

“My love, that was three days ago. When you didn’t wake up after you passed out, I was able to get two of Rapahango’s warriors to carry you back here. You have been tossing and turning ever since. I have been worried sick about you and couldn’t leave your side. What would I do without my Dan-iel?” Tears pooled in her eyes.

Daniel brushed her tears away. Then he remembered — he had been running a high fever.

Mahina continued, “You were so hot, so terribly hot. But that is now gone. I was hoping you would wake up soon — and you have. Would you like some water?” she asked, a gourd in her hands.

“Yes, yes,” Daniel said as he took it from her and gingerly drank.

Daniel asked, “I suppose you heard me say at Orongo that Atamu is dead?”

“I did.”

“Before he died,” Daniel confided, “while on Motu Nui I found evidence that linked him to the killings. I’m certain he was the one I was looking for.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“So your work here is done?” asked Mahina, a concerned look on her face.

“It is, but I still have no idea where the time cave is.” Recalling a conversation
from long, long ago, he added, “Mahina, do you believe the moai can speak to those who need answers?”

“The moai are the living essence of our ancestors. It is my belief they possess great powers, and yes, I feel they can and will talk to those who are sincere in their questions.”

“Have you ever talked to one?”

“No,” she confessed.

“When I am stronger,” Daniel said, “I’d like to try. Perhaps one can give me the information I need.”

“Perhaps . . . but enough of this. I must tell Pakia and Uka that you’re awake. They will be pleased to know you are better.”

She turned away, stepped outside and called for them.

As he waited, Daniel was sure he noticed some discomfort on Mahina’s face as he talked about leaving. In fact, Daniel sensed that she was actually starting to believe him about the time cave. But, without knowing the cave’s location, there was nothing for her to worry about.

At least, not yet.

Three days later, at sunset, Daniel sat on a large smooth stone in front of the solitary moai standing at ‘Anakena. While still not at full strength, he felt capable of sitting in meditation and planned to be here till sunrise, if necessary. Mahina had offered to sit with him, but he declined. He knew he had to do this by himself.

Daniel had chosen this particular moai for several reasons. First, it was close and easy to get to. Second, he recalled how both Alame and Tiare had some sort of affinity for it. Finally — and he smiled to himself as he thought about it — since some months ago he had personally been involved in keeping it erect, perhaps if the moai did indeed have some sort of consciousness, it might be favorably inclined to help him.

Daniel again fondly recalled his grandpa, and how he had once told him that, if one needed inspiration, it was best to fast and spend time in isolation to make your mind receptive. And so, since noon, Daniel had chosen not to eat and kept to himself. Strangely enough, he didn’t feel hungry.

His grandpa had also told him that spirit and matter were connected through the breath. “Concentrate on your breath,” he had said, “and before long you will enter the world of spirit.”

Daniel heard the evening chatter of ‘Anakena murmur in the background as he closed his eyes and began to focus his attention solely on his breath.

Breathing in, breathing out . . .

Breathing in, breathing out . . .

Breathing in, breathing out . . .

Over and over again. Without being consciously aware of it, his breath gradually became shallower.

In minutes, hours, days — there was no way for him to tell — Daniel’s surroundings completely disappeared from his consciousness, and all that was present was his breath. He suddenly felt his mind expand upward to first envelop the moon, then the sun and the planets, and eventually exploding outward to encompass the entire universe, and, for that moment in time, he and all of existence were one.

Daniel was surprised to discover that the universe had a pulse, a rhythm, just like his breath, expanding, contracting, in and out, in and out. He was not only breathing with God, he
was
God.

All at once he found himself walking along a beautiful beach. Daniel didn’t recognize it, but he was sure it was on Rapa Nui. He strolled along, watching the waves flow in and out — with a rhythm much like his breath — and shortly he came upon a young boy playing in the sand next to the water.

Daniel asked, “Who are you?”

“Sit down beside me,” the boy requested.

Daniel did and felt the cool ocean water wash upon him.

The boy smiled at him. “Here — take this stick and draw with me in the sand.”

Daniel grabbed it and began to doodle along with the boy, and they both laughed. Daniel looked closer at the boy; there was something about him that was familiar — uncomfortably familiar.

Finally Daniel asked, “Are you . . . me?”

“You guessed it,” the boy said. “I was beginning to wonder how long it would take you to figure it out.” The boy giggled. “I am the little boy that lives inside of you. Everyone has one, you know, well, except for women — they have a little girl.”

Daniel again joined the child in laughter, and then asked, “Why are you here?”

“Don’t you know?”

“No,” admitted Daniel.

“I am here to show you the way back home. You do want to get back home, don’t you?”

“Oh, I do.”

“Good. Now, look at my drawing in the sand. I’ve put an X where you start; that’s where you live now. If you follow this line, you will see that the trail curves around this hill, then around this one. Here you will walk around a rocky area until you come to a small tree. I believe it’s called a toromiro.”

Daniel looked carefully at the sand drawing, recognized the landmarks and knew exactly where it was. He had walked by it at least a dozen times. Daniel asked, “Why have I not seen the cave before?”

“It is well hidden,” the boy answered. “Poke around behind the tree, and you will find it.”

“Thank you,” Daniel said.

“I’m glad to help. Now, it is time for you to go.”

“Before I do,” Daniel said, “may I ask a question?”

“Yes?”

“I thought I was coming here to talk to the moai, and I ended up talking with part of myself. What happened?”

The boy responded, “Don’t you see? All answers to any questions already exist within you. All the statue did was to help you to know that. Oh, and by the way, the statue thanks you for protecting it.”

Daniel smiled. “Tell it — you’re welcome.”

“You can do that yourself.” He stood as did Daniel. “Come see me more often. We can have fun together.”

“How do I do that?” Daniel asked.

“Anytime you are like a little child, innocent, playful and happy, we will be together, whether you see me or not.”

Daniel closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them the boy had disappeared, and he found himself sitting once again in front of the moai. The morning sun was just peeking over the horizon.

Daniel looked up at the moai and respectfully said, “You’re welcome.”

The moai stared at him silently.

Daniel somehow knew he had heard.

And now Daniel headed toward Pakia and Uka’s home.

There was much to do before he took his departure.

D
aniel, with much on his mind, gradually walked up the gently sloping hill from ‘Anakena to Vai Tara Kai Ua. He felt confident of the information he had received while sitting in front of the moai and was certain he could find the entrance to the time cave.

Still — thoughts crossed his mind, thoughts that made him doubt whether he really wanted to find it. He could stay here in old Rapa Nui and enjoy time fishing with Pakia, though he wanted to spend most of his hours with his love, Mahina.

But the more he considered it, the more he knew his work here was done. The primary reason he was here was to find the murderer, and he had done that. And as much as he loved this life, he itched to return home. But he couldn’t help but wonder:

Will Mahina come back with me?

A sense of melancholy caught up with him as he approached Pakia and Uka’s hut. Pakia scurried around the front, preparing his fishing lines for a day of work.

Pakia paused to yell out, “Uka! Come out! Dan-iel is back!”

Uka promptly popped out of the hut with a big smile on her face. She hurried to Daniel and put him in a death-grip of a hug.

“Dan-iel, I must know. Did the moai speak to you?”

“Yes, in a way.”

Pakia joined in. “What did it say?”

“I was told how to get back home.”

“Honestly?” Uka said, in awe.

“Yes.”

A look of concern came over Pakia’s face. “When will you be going?”

Daniel’s response was harder than he could have ever imagined. After a few moments, he managed, “Now . . . I must go now.”

Uka began to sob, “But Dan-iel, you are like . . . family to us. We don’t . . . we don’t want you to leave!”

Daniel touched her cheek. “Uka, you are like family to me as well, but I must go home. Before I do, I must share that many dangers will face you and your people in the years to come, and I was hoping that you both would join me and come to live in my land.”

Pakia and Uka at first looked stunned, and then Pakia put his arm around Uka and answered, “Dan-iel, this is our home, and this is where our family lives. We love you, but we cannot go with you.”