“Mom, tomorrow we are confirming that Hawai‘i tax map key process is fraudulent.”
“I’m making cinnamon rolls.”
“Okay let’s role play. Not to be negative just to consider all options.
And where do you think we should park? is there room for all the cars?”
Me, calmly, straight-faced, “I think we should park on the upside side road, facing mauka and put a slide down the left window and if they try to jail you, you slide out the window and just ha‘alele up to the road.”
She looks at me with small serious smile.
I explode but smiling, “Good God?! Who lives like this? Who else is having these kinds of conversations in the world right now?!”
“Mom!” (she’s smiling, laughing now) “They are going to dismiss it, I talked to so and so and so and so and so and so (confidential, LoL), they all agreed with me that it’s too costly for them to prove they are wrong (convincing laugh-look smile) and she continues, “I left a message ma ka ‘olelo Hawai‘i with the public defenders office.”
“It’s kinda weird that they added you to the roster, one-day before court, when you weren’t listed all week.
“RiAghT ?. ”
“I got butter, I’m making cinnamon rolls.”
“Yah, make cinnamon rolls.”
“Nope, going to iron my skirt.”
The night was filled with the sound of big rushing river water, brisk Haleakala breezes and a cinnamon diffuser coming from the kitchen.
DAY OF COURT
I’m not a morning person but I get ready fast. Coffee, car keys, grab the bake tray. I drive and look for kinolau, talk to uhane a pau. Pray, drive, cruise to Hana.
Most beautiful courthouse on the planet.
“You want a cinnamon roll?”
Several court goers accept, Thank you. Yes, I didn’t eat breakfast. Wow! Nice. Thank you.
I joke to ease the mood, “You better take one! I usually burn cold cereal.”
Sister Sheriff walks across the courtyard. “Mom, uncle wants two more rolls.”
Public Defender asks: “Do you have court today?”
Points at the clipboard, “Is this you?”
“No, but that’s my last name.”
“Hang on, let me go check with the clerk.”
He returns shortly, “ Okay, so your case is going to be dismissed, so you’re good.”
She turns to me and smiles calmly.
I don’t know what else to do but ask the time.
I show her the face of my phone, “I don’t have my glasses, what time is it?”
“Eight Thirty Eight”
“Okay, 8:38 a.m., March 6, 2020, restored.”
She refines, “The fraud can end.”
20 seconds with Judge to inform that the court declined to prosecute. Zero paperwork.
I recount the eve prior, the morning of, staying in the moment. I tossed around the idea of having to share the events with a friend who may ask, or Nana, when, she asks. To think, others may be hypothesizing on the excitement of a day like this may be for our family, for our moku, for our Hawai‘i. I will have to explain, I have been asked to explain a lot since January 1st. I will continue to answer all when able with the wish that everyone also realize that I learn more everyday and in no demeanor might I ever suggest that I know everything. Restoring a Kingdom is a serious thing. Every step counts. Every threat counts. Every success counts. I am humble servant to humanity.
I quietly reflect, asserting your rights as a Hawaiian National isn’t as frightening as one might think. Truth be told, so many frightening things have already happened to arrive at this day. People are in peril. Our island people are proud and you don’t always see or hear the suffering, the struggling. History and data speak for themselves. Everything must change towards improvement until the population is healthy. Those who assert their rights generally believe this.
I gave away cinnamon rolls the whole drive back. I looked for kinolau. Gave amazing grace. Expressed gratitude best able while driving. I received lots of smiles but I was still earnestly looking for a cosmic affirmation or indicator, a ho‘ailona. I hadn’t felt that I had seen anything really striking. And then I pull into the driveway and notice the flag had blown off one of the nails.
I parked, put on boots, grab the ladder and as I was fixing it I thought about it. We see tattered flags, we replace flags when we can, but often, we fly that representation until threads blowing. Sometimes flags get muddy and need to be washed. If it’s a Hawaiian flag, it’s worth flying, ‘nem mine if bust up. Every flag counts, every kanaka counts. The Kingdom is in strong restoration path, the flag never fly away, just gotta put the grommet back on the nail.
Article hua ‘olelo (words) translations:
kino lau: god(s) in nature
a pau: all
ho‘ailona: a symbol, a sign
ma ka ‘olelo Hawai‘i: in language of Hawai‘i