Puʻuhonua o Hōnauna
The island of refuge. That’s his goal. Two hours to swim two miles. Or die.
He had no choice. Two hours ago he looked at Lani, actually made eye contact. The great chief saw him. He has to pay.
The canoe slices thru the water.
No sound. No voices.
Sudden splash of buckets of bloody fish thrown in here and there. This is his path to freedom.
“Just swim, sharks will cone, just swim” he’s quietly telling himself. “If he could make an offering, maybe, just maybe. ..”
They land at a bit of sand and lava rock. The coast is rough. Sharp rocks tear at his feet. He had to stand still first. Proudly meet the sea to be free.
With a crack of a club on his back he hits six inches of water hard. Breath is knocked clean out of him.
“Swim and you live”