Hinewai

By Deborah Bainbridge

There’s no harm in a quick swim before morning chores. No one ever notices. I’m always back by sunrise.

Something tugs my feet. In an instant, the current drags me under and out to sea.

No!

Spinning, I cannot think. My arms flail, fighting hard against the undertow.

Which way is up?

My lungs burn. Fear paralyzes me. There is no escape.

Suddenly, a light in the abyss, and I’m mesmerized by the fairest woman I have ever seen. Billows of platinum hair envelop two sparkling, sapphire eyes.

Maybe I’m dreaming.

Warm serenity embraces me as an alluring song intoxicates me. I want to stay forever.

Maybe I’m dead.

Light emanates from her. In a flash of lightning, I am ripped from paradise and pushed onto the beach. Coughing, gasping for air, I crawl to safety.

Who was that?

Five years have passed, and the mystery still consumes me. I never spoke of that morning—to anyone. I was thirteen. Who would believe me? Tonight, I find myself on the same beach where I nearly drowned.

“I knew I would find you here.” My father joins me. “You always come here to think. I was nervous about my ceremony, too, you know.”

My hands tremble. “I find peace under the stars.”

“That makes sense, Whetū. Your name does mean star.”

“Father, how do I become a man and a husband all in one day?”

“Whetū, you are a carver and a kite flier. Both are sacred. After your rite of passage tomorrow, you will be highly respected as a man of our tribe.”

I bury my feet in the sand. “How can I be bound to a woman I do not love?”

“I have chosen a wonderful bride for you. She is beautiful, intelligent, and kind. Awi will make a good wife.”

“Will I make a good husband?”

“You will, Whetū. A husband’s job is to love his wife and provide for and protect his family. It will take time, my son. But you will learn as I did. I loved your mother very much.”

“What about my moko? Will it hurt?”

“Karaka leaves will help your tattoos heal. Time will take the pain.”

I point to the center of his forehead. “And I will bear the cluster of stars like yours?”

“Yes. The honor of the Matariki symbolizes the Pleiades and will mark your rank as a kite flier, as one who connects Heaven and Earth. You will also bear three waves above the left side of your brow, representing the sea, honoring your family’s heritage of master carvers.”

“I will bear them with esteem, Father.” I look down at the sand, my mind reeling with thoughts of responsibility. I focus on the treacherous rock formation in the distance.

“There is an ancient legend that tells of a great star that fell from the sky and landed in the sea.” My father’s voice seems to drift among the waves as he speaks.  “As it cooled, it took the form of a woman. They called her Hinewai, fairest of the sea. Seeing a ship of men, she believed they were to blame for her fall and took out her wrath upon them. Years later, as the first Tahitian canoes reached our islands, the Māori men heard an enchanting song. Captivated, they paddled toward it. The wise Chief Ariki knew of the ancient legend and tried to stop them, but many disobeyed. Driven mad, their canoes shattered upon the very rocks you see before you now. Only one who honors the stars could ever gain her trust.”

A chill runs down my spine.

That alluring song. The fairest creature. Could I have seen Hinewai? A star that fell from the heavens… that is why I felt such a strong connection to her. Is that why she saved me?

I take a deep breath and recount my near-death experience for my father.

His eyebrows furrow. “You never told me this.”

“I’m sorry, Father. I thought no one would believe me.”

“The waves play tricks on our minds, Whetū.”

Disappointed, I look away.

“The legend of the siren is just a story made up to keep us from the dangerous rocks. It is tapu… forbidden. Although”—he smiles—“there is a shred of truth in every legend. Perhaps you did see Hinewai.”

But it’s clear he doesn’t mean it.

“We should go. You will need your rest for the ceremony tomorrow.”

Tonight, I sit on the beach as an old man, reflecting on that day. Waves have crashed, stars have diminished, yet my ceremony seems like yesterday. The artist, his entire body adorned in ink, tattooing my moko… the feasts and hake… the traditional dancing I shared with a girl for the first time… the solemnity and celebration of welcoming my bride. Father was right—I learned to love her.

To honor my wife, I had locked Hinewai in the deep recesses of my mind. But Awi passed years ago, and Hinewai has enchanted me since I was thirteen. All these years, the mystery and desire to see her has beguiled my dreams. I have few days left on this Earth, and I come here tonight with the hope for just one glimpse of her… that she will sing to me one last time.

The sea is unusually calm. One star in the Pleiades burns especially bright.

It’s a sign.

As the full moon peaks the horizon, I see her perched atop the rocks. Her long hair flows in the breeze.

I jump in my canoe and paddle hard until I am over the place where she first revealed herself to me. The canoe bobs gently. My eyes have deceived me. She is not here. Her visage is merely rock adorned with seaweed ebbing and flowing with the tide.

Disappointment washes over me.

It wasn’t real.

As I turn the canoe, something splashes behind me. I freeze.

The hint of song rises from the waves. I look back and see a faint light beckoning in the darkness.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Deborah Bainbridge is a Christian, wife, and mother who enjoys fantasy, running, traveling the world, writing, and cookies. Her genres of choice include mystery and speculative fiction. The quote that inspired her to love reading was in the LOTR where Bilbo revealed, “there’s no knowing where you might be swept off to.” She is thankful to Shawn, Ginny, Cindy, Kaitlyn, Linda, Catharine, and Quills for their encouragement and inspiration.

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