100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #19. Jean.

 Jean Gouveia was Hawaiian on her mother's side and embodied everything that her Hawaiian mother, Netty, was.

Her Portuguese side was her father, Peter. Theirs was an arranged marriage as Peter's parents were afraid that he'd remain single his entire life since it seemed that none of the available women took an interest in him. Netty's parents were also concerned about the same thing, with Netty being nineteen and unmarried. Peter and Netty's fathers worked together on the plantation, and one day, during a lunch break, the two began to discuss their children's pitiful situation. Thus, the marriage between Peter and Nettie was put together. 

The couple consummated their marriage the evening after the ceremony, having been wed at a traditional Catholic church earlier that morning. Jean, their only child, was born from that consummation. The girl grew up being loved by both grandparents on her mother's and father's sides. Netty was a good mother and raised her daughter the way she was, in a traditional Hawaiian sense. Peter worked hard all day, and in the evening, he was scarcely around except to come home very late and eat whatever was available. Netty was never upset; if she was, she never showed it. This was the norm while Jean grew up, not knowing where her father was or when he would make himself available to be her father. 

On a quiet afternoon after school let out, Jean and her friends walked silently back home, casually kicking rocks or talking about their classmates, whom they liked or disliked. The group of four friends had a game that they played every day. Three would suddenly run off to their homes at any moment, leaving the fourth to walk alone. Today, it was Jean's turn, and she knew it. So, when her three companions dashed away, she thought nothing of it at first. But then she suddenly remembered a thicket of Kiawe trees that led to a trail that emerged near the backyard of her home. She took off running at full speed, not worried about the large Kiawe thorns that lay strewn about on the trail. The effort was nearly flawless, and she was at the back fence of her yard in no time. Jean hardly spent time in her backyard because she feared the oversized banyan tree that grew there. It loomed over her house during the day, but at night, with the winds filtering down from the valley and through their backyard, the branches of the banyan scratched up against the roof, making it sound like the tree was trying to get in her bedroom and take her away. Walking briskly to the back door, Jean took one quick look at the banyan and thought she saw movement. Rather than scare her, it piqued her curiosity, and so she cautiously walked toward the monstrous ficus. Approaching closer, she heard what sounded like something striking the dirt. Sure enough, behind the banyan was her father, just finishing digging a deep hole with a large pile of dirt on the side. Near the pile of earth sat something in a bundle, which, when her father was done, he took and laid it in the hole. Now, while shoveling the dirt back into the hole, Jean saw that her father was in tears, his body convulsing as he sobbed miserably. However, not once did he cease shoveling. 

"Genie-girl? Is that you, back there?" The surprise of her mother's voice made her jump, while simultaneously, Peter grabbed his shovel and pick-axe and gingerly ran off.

"It's me, mama!" Jean answered. "I took the shortcut through the Kiawe trees!"

"I told you not to go through there, Genie," Nettie said while opening the back door and holding it so Jean could come in. "You're gonna stuck your feet with Kiawe thorns,"

"I forgot Mama," Jean apologized. "I won't do it again,"

The girl looked back for a brief second, her mind racing with the possibilities of what it was that her father was burying? She would have stopped him and asked about it herself, but Peter was hardly around enough to be known and understood by his daughter. So, it was natural that she hid herself and watched.

~

Jean sits in her Hawaiian studies class today in 2024, which will be part of her AA degree at the local community college. Today, the assignment is unusual. The kumu asked the class to complete an assignment that required them to write about their journey from childhood until that moment as they sat in that class. The kumu wanted as much detail as possible because this assignment would be one of the determining factors for their grades at the end of the semester. For the kumu himself, he wanted to see what part of their life journey prepared them for the decision to come to his Hawaiian studies class.

"I believe nothing is random or a coincidence," he told the class. "Especially with how you got here and where you're going."

Various levels of participation in the project showed enthusiasm, detailed effort, and bare basic facts for others. Even for the papers that showed laziness, the kumu made it a point to encourage those students to do more and show more effort. 

Jean's paper narrated her life as a part-Hawaiian little girl who identified primarily as Hawaiian even though her father was Portuguese. Jean wrote that she could only speak for how she was raised by her Hawaiian mother, noting that perhaps her upbringing differed from how other Hawaiians were raised in their homes. Her story was rich with traditional lessons, both physical and spiritual, from her mother, Netty. However, the story that stuck out most was how Jean told her mother about the hole she'd seen her father dig and how she saw him place a bundle in it and cover the bundle with dirt. Both mother and daughter immediately went to the spot and began digging up the earth with their bare hands. In the end, Jean and her mother found an infant child still alive but barely breathing. Netty struck the infant gently on its back until it began crying to its full ability. It was a boy. A boy that Jean's mother would later on find out was born from a woman with whom Peter had been having an affair. A married woman whose husband worked with Peter on the plantation. Netty never found out who the woman was but had heard that she was gone one day. She left her husband and household behind, disappearing for good. Some speculated that her husband might have killed her and buried the body. Others said she stole off into the night with another man besides Peter. Whatever the case may have been, Peter was not allowed back into his own home but was ostracized and moved to Maui, but not without the other woman's husband beating him half to death. 

Netty and Jean raised the little boy, naming him Koali after Netty's father. 

~

"Hold on," the kumu said to Jean while the two sat in his office. "This is 2024, and you're saying this story took place during the plantation era?"

"Yes," Jean smiled.

"Did you make up this story? There's no way this is you, Jean, in this story. It's a fantastic story, but it can't be real. The timeline doesn't match up,"

"The Jean in this story is my great-grandmother. Koali was my mother's father, and so I am named after her, Jean Keohokalole Manuwailele. That's the Jean I'm writing about in my story. Should I have specified that in the beginning?" Jean smiled.

"It would have helped greatly," the Kumu laughed.

"I'm sorry," Jean laughed too. "The story just took over. I guess, the real Jean really wanted to tell her story."