Pacing barefoot, dragging her feet over the highly polished hardwood floor of her 1,000 square foot, L-shaped, mini-loft. Fiona looked across the open living area, decorated in what she liked to call “tropical minimalism.”
Two tall palm trees stood in the far opposite corners of the room, their fronds gently grazing the 13-foot ceiling. A hammock hung in front of the apartments only window. It was actually a large sliding glass door, stretching from floor to ceiling.
It lead out onto a small, no correct that, a very small terrace. Neighbors used their outdoor spaces to store bicycles, ironing boards, ab rollers, things of that nature.
Fiona chose to use the meager space as a flower box. She loved the smell of the soil; the feel of it in her hands, caring for each tender young sprout or tiniest of seed as wonderfully as she treated the rest of God’s creatures. Not to mention all of the pretty flowers that seemed always in bloom no matter what season.
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Growing up on the island of Hawaii until the age of ten, Fiona had wonderful memories of a childhood filled with beautiful flowers, caring people, and sacred traditions. Everything seemed to be so much better back home.
Coming to the mainland soon after her tenth birthday, Fiona found herself in Miami, Florida. She lived there with her mother Rose, a beautiful native of Hawaii, and her father Francesco.
Francesco Facialonga, Fiona’s father, was the captain of “la Josipina [the Josephine]”. A ship in the fleet of “Sorrelle di Mare [Sisters of the Sea]” an Italian cruise line. Francesco received the Hawaiian route as his first assignment.
This was wonderful news for him. Francesco had never been outside of Rome, Italy. He always dreamed of going to far away places. Lush tropical paridisios filled his fantasies. Now his dreams were to come true on this his first time out of Rome and his first time to paradise.
His maiden voyage was wonderful, more than had ever hoped for. Francesco had met Rose Ho, a native Hawaiian girl. On that trip he vowed his love for the beautiful Rose, his Hawaiian rose. Soon after; he moved to Hawaii, married Rose, and Fiona was to follow.
Their the family seemed a happy one, alas all families have their problems.
Rose suffered from complications during her delivery with Fiona. She was not able to have any more children. Rose always said that she never felt this was a misfortune, although she was only seventeen when this happened.
Rose had met Francesco only a year earlier. She thought he was a wonderful man, so handsome in his uniform. So much different than all the natives she was raised around, so worldly, so European.
From the time she was a young girl, Rose’s grandparents kept her out of contact with the tourists as much as possible. They felt the visitors brought bad energy along with them and this was disrupting the harmony of Hawaii.
Rose was raised by her father. Her mother died while giving birth to her. Then at the age of ten her father left her at the grandparent’s home, never to return to pick her up.
Her father worked as a fisherman and diver. That day while diving for abalone, it is said he took one last deep breath and never came to the surface again.
Rose’s grandparents raised her from that day on. There was no court case or a signing over of custody. These were natives, people of tradition and they intended on keeping it that way.
They wanted Rose to have a long life of tradition and to marry a native like herself. For her to have plenty of little native babies to carry on their history and their customs.
All of their hopes had come to a halt on that fateful day when rose had met Francesco. Rose, all of sixteen years, storms into her grandmother’s kitchen proclaiming her undying love and devotion for some Italian boat captain.
Rose’s age was definitely an issue but not in the expected way. Traditionally by the age of sixteen a girl is given to a young man as his bride in exchange for some sort of dowry.
Whenever the subject would arise she had always just left the room no longer to discuss it. She was never aware that the whole time her grandfather had a plan to marry her off in the months soon to come.
Rose always resented the way her grandparents forced her into being so traditional. Her father had never made these ridiculous demands of her. Having to wear the costumes that the natives wore for the tourist every day in the hotels and there were never any tourists around to see her, just a bunch of natives hanging around speaking their native tongue. A language which she was presently being forced to learn. All of this and now she was expected to marry a native boy.
“I don’t even like native boys!” Rose cried as she stormed out of her grandmother’s kitchen for the last time.
That was it, no quarrels, no threats. Rose had made her choice. In two months time Rose and Francesco were married. Nine months later, almost to the day, Fiona was born.
On this day, either by curse or by nature, Rose would bear her first and only child, a beautiful little girl.
Should she feel lucky seeing how her mother had given her life for her when she was born? Rose’s dad always told her, ‘it was because mommy loved you so much that she died for you’
Maybe coming so close to death herself during the delivery and not dying could mean that she did not love her daughter enough.
Francesco went into shock, not only will his beautiful young bride not be able to have anymore children but she managed to give him a baby girl on her first and only opportunity.
What to do? What about the family name? He had always planned to bring his new family back home to Rome at some point. But now?
Rose was able to have one healthy, beautiful, baby and to that baby she would devote all of her love and attention, at least that was her initial plan.
She now had her own family. She would be well again soon and in the embrace of her new small clan. Rose soon began feeling the pressures of a young wife being left alone to care for her baby as her husband went off to earn the money.
Francesco drowned himself in his work, (pardon the pun). He was at sea more than twenty days a month, finding it more comforting spending time in other ports of call, with the other ship’s officers, doing who knows what to forget their cumulative shitty existences.
Rose knew something was wrong. One did not need experience in this field to be able to detect a problem. What could she do? She blamed herself, or possibly her family legacy of not being able to provide a male to your husband.
“Was that possibly why daddy never came back?” The thought had never occurred to her before now. Of course, her father never drowned, he left her to go remarry and have a real family. A family where the wife could give her husband many children, including a namesake.
She had never before realized the importance of being able to have a baby boy, never having a mother to tell her or siblings to help her become aware of this important fact.
Rose had no evidence to support this new scenario that she came up with but with no one to tell her she was possibly wrong, the idea became fact.
She slipped deeper and deeper into her depressed world, with no one to call. Her family respected her choice, now she had to respect it too. There was no family for her only her Fiona.
Fiona loved growing up on the island. She had a beautiful room in her parent’s house. She had lots of friends in school and she was just starting to like boys.
She never suspected her mother was in any pain. Her mother had been unhappy for so long now, that this was how Fiona knew her to be.
Upon arriving home from school one afternoon she learned the news that they, her and her parents, would be moving to the mainland.
“Why, why now?” She began to sulk.
Rose assured her that the mainland would be fun for the both of them, finally leaving the island.
“But I don’t want to leave the island!” Fiona shrieked then began to cry.
Rose explained to her still sobbing daughter that it was either that they all had to go or her father would have to go live on the mainland on his own.
“We have no choice, the cruise line changed his route after all of these years.” Rose finally let go. “And there is no way in hell I’m going to let your father move to the mainland by himself!”
Rose’s deep brown eyes filled to the brim with tears and before pouring down her smooth tanned cheeks, they sat and glistened on her bottom lids. Gaining power and emotional value for her awed daughter who now watched her mother prepare to cry in front of her for the very first time.
Fiona had believed she had heard her mother sobbing behind the closed door of her bedroom but this was something incredibly new and powerful. Her mother the woman of stone, was now about to cry.
Finally falling, rivers of free flowing fluid spilled from Rose’s eyes. This incredible sight made Fiona’s own eyes start to flow with the same liquid. The two embraced as never before. The powerful hug lasted as long as the tears flowed, which seemed like an eternity.
As the sobs subsided and their embrace turned into a touch then faded into space between them, the two looked at each other differently now.
Fiona could not believe it, her father was the cause of all this turmoil in her life. The man who she hardly ever saw, the man who was out to sea twenty or so days a month, the man who never showed her any affection or paid her any attention when he was around. Why should she have to leave for him? Why should they have to leave paradise?
