There was a time when our summers were filled with visitations from our cousins in Hilo.
At that time, in 1970, no one had ever heard of anything like a mental illness that required medication. Two of our girl cousins, who were sisters, Stephanie and Melissa, were pre-teen girls who were not much older than we were. Except for myself, that is, I was eight years old. Everyone else was eleven or twelve. The two girls were fun; they especially loved to play sword fights. In fact, they were really good at it. In my little world on Kaukamana Street, I had never heard of anything like fencing or kendo, but it turns out that in Hilo, Stephanie and Melissa were students of both martial disciplines. During their stay for the summer, they were nice enough to teach all of us what they knew. The day before they were to fly out and head back home to Hilo, they held a tournament to display everything we'd learned. It was all fun, and our stomachs were sore with laughter by the time it was over. There were tears and hugs at the old Honolulu airport as we saw them off the next day. Young promises to fly to Hilo to see them or that they would return by the next holiday filled our farewells, never truly knowing if it would happen.By December, we'd received a wonderful surprise. Stephanie had come to stay with us; Melissa, however, could not for some reason, which my parents never mentioned. We all looked forward to showing Stephanie our Kendo and fencing skills, as we had kept up with what they taught us during the summer. Only then did we realize she was not fun and happy anymore. On the contrary, she was brooding, quiet, and very aloof. She stayed indoors mostly, and if the mood came when she was outside, she'd sit under the lemon tree or in the far corner of the yard, lost in her thoughts. Stephanie was helpful to my mother around the house, with whatever was needed to clean or prepare meals. She received an allowance of five dollars at the end of each week. Otherwise, she would retreat to her room and lay under the dark cloud which constantly hovered over her.
We found out one evening that she'd been saving her money, so with permission from our parents, she treated us to the movies at the old walk-in open-air theater. It was a two-block walk to and from. We were all giddy and excited, and just for that evening, Stephanie came out of her shell. She'd shone an inner light, and her smile was radiant. She was maternal to us all, ensuring that we all stayed together and did not wander off. Stephanie asked my two older sisters to help get snacks and drinks for the rest of us. Trina and Teresa were only too eager to assist.
We were all settled in as best we could because the open-air movie theater didn't have those comfy reclining chairs like they do today. These hardwood benches proved unkind to the posterior as the movie continued for too long. It was common for people to get splinters, as the owners only maintained the benches if somebody complained.
"I've seen the commercials for this movie on T.V.," Stephanie leaned over and smiled excitedly. "Aren't you excited?"
"What's excited?" I asked innocently.
"Happy," she smiled warmly. "Happy."
The movie opens with a lone figure in the snow, fronting a track field. He talks about a twenty-five-year-old girl who died from cancer. I was lost. Stephanie and my sisters swooned and cried throughout the whole movie, A Love Story, starring Ryan O Neal and Ali McGraw. I was bored out of my mind, and I fidgeted a lot. My sisters nudged me to quit it, but Stephanie gently grabbed my arm and then rubbed my shoulders. Afterward, the four of us walked home with Stephanie and my sisters chattering about how much they loved Ryan 'O Neal and that they hoped if they were ever dying, the man they loved would be as devoted to them as Ryan 'O Neal was devoted to Ali McGraw.
"Kill me now," I muttered to myself. "Just murder me, now."
Teresa smacked me on the back and told me to shut up.
~
Stephanie didn't come out of her room for a couple of days, and when she did, she was still wearing the clothes she had on for the movies. My mom asked her what was wrong with her? Stephanie said she was afraid to take her clothes off from that night because if she did, it would only mean that Oliver and Jenny's love from the movie was not real and that Jenny would really die. Only then did my mother realize that Stephanie had convinced my sisters to do the same thing. With all the things concerning our household that took up her time, she became pissed that she didn't see what was going on. So, she dragged Stephanie out of her bedroom, tore her clothes off, and forced her into the shower. My mom stood there, making sure that Stephanie washed and cleaned herself. We were not allowed in the bathroom as my mom locked the door. Trina and Teresa screamed for my mother to leave Stephanie alone and that she did nothing wrong. The bathroom door swung open, and mom slapped both my sisters across the face, slamming the door shut immediately afterward. A short time later, the bathroom door opened, and wrapped with a towel around her, Stephanie went back to her room.
"You two, take those clothes off and shower right now," Mom said, holding the door open. My sisters went straight to their room, and with their clothes in their arms, they walked to the bathroom, where they received two more slaps on the back of their heads.
Things didn't get better after that. Stephanie helped around the house as usual, but one day, as she vacuumed the rug in the living room, I was swinging my toy telephone around by the cord, and it accidentally hit Stephanie in the head. Instantly, she grabbed the receiver and struck me across my face with it. My mom walked into the living room just in time to see it. She began beating Stephanie about the head, but Stephanie never cried out once. It only made my mom more angrier than she already was. Mom demanded why she wouldn't cry out, and Stephanie said the strangest thing.
"When Jennifer was dying of cancer, she never cried once," Stephanie's eyes were said but not to the point of tears. "How can I cry if Jennifer never cried?"
Trina and Teresa tried explaining the movie we saw at the open-air theater to our mom, but she didn't understand.
"That's a movie, Stephanie," Mom said. "This is real life; stop living in a dream!"
A few days later, the neighbors came to our house to complain about Stephanie. She had hidden herself along the dirt lane and was throwing rocks at anyone who passed by. I went to look for her myself, to warn her, but all I got was a good-sized rock on my cheek. Mom was furious and was ready to kill Stephanie. Instead, she waited for our Dad to get home. When she told him what had been happening that day, he went to find her, and when he did, he brought her back into the house, sat her in the living room, and told her not to move. He made a call to his brother Phillip in Hilo and said to him that Stephanie had become too much of a problem and that she was to the point where she'd been harming other people, aside from me. Uncle Phillip told my Dad he'd fly in the next day to take her home. My Dad had to call out from his job to bring Stephanie to the airport the next day. On the way there, Stephanie asked my Dad to pull over for a second because she felt sick and probably had to throw up. Pulling over at Mā'ili point, he waited for his niece to take care of her business, but rather than leave the car, she begged him to let her stay. She didn't want to return home and would do anything to stay. She told my father everything.
A cousin of her mother, named Carlos, moved in with them and had been there for nearly a year before he began sneaking into Stephanie's room late at night, having his way with her. As well, Stephanie had an undiagnosed case of what was called multiple personality disorder, now referred to as disassociative identity disorder. What Carlos saw as a deviant means to satisfy his urges, Stephanie saw as romantic interludes. One day, while Carlos was in the backyard peeling a mango to eat for himself, Stephanie asked Carlos when they could tell her parents about their romance? Carlos replied by saying that once he had a full-time job, the two of them would tell her parents together. Stephanie cried and hugged Carlos. With no one at home yet, the two made hurried love in the backyard and separated to different parts of the house so there would be no suspicion when everyone returned home.
Later that evening, Carlos spoke to Stephanie's parents privately and told them that she'd been approaching him whenever he was alone, trying to throw herself on him. Each time, he refused, but she persisted.
"I would never do anything like that," Carlos cried. "I'll stay at a boarding house or something; I don't want to be a problem."
Aunty Vera, Carlos' cousin, and Uncle Phillip would not hear of it. They packed Stephanie's things the next day and sent her to stay with us. The last I ever. I heard of Stephanie was two years later, in 1972. The archdiocese came to her house in Hilo, where Uncle Phillip and Aunty Vera asked for an exorcism. They claimed that Stephanie had become possessed by evil. What really happened was that Carlos and Melissa ran off to be married on the mainland, where they lived out the rest of their lives, never to return to Hawai'i. Until today, no one knows what became of them.
The combination of what Carlos did to her and then finding out that he ran off with her sister sent Stephanie over the edge; she never recovered. This was the early 70s' when treatment and medications for Stephanie's condition were not readily available like they are today. One thing that hasn't changed with the circumstances that Stephanie had to deal with was, and is, apathy. Rather than help the victim, the victim is blamed and sent somewhere out of sight of the people who are supposed to help said victim.
Some things have changed since then, but most have stayed the same.
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