BONES OF HILO
A NOVEL
Eric Redman
For Heather, our children, and our Big Island ‘ohana, including Carolyn, Ku‘ulei, Haia, Grace, and Kawika whose names—but nothing else, other than a tattoo— I’ve borrowed for this tale
Acknowledgments
The individuals I have to thank are too numerous to name, but those mentioned here played particularly important roles in helping bring this book to fruition. I thank each of them deeply.
On the Big Island, my cousin by marriage Carolyn Wong, a Native Hawaiian (and mother of the real Ku‘ulei) cheerfully helped with matters of Hawaiian language and culture. Gail Mililani Makuakane-Lundin of the University of Hawai‘i at Hilo reviewed the manuscript from a Native Hawaiian perspective and made helpful suggestions, as did her UH Hilo colleague Todd Shumway. The late Tom Hagen, a one-time activist with Save Hapuna, taught me the history and economics of South Kohala resorts. The Reverend Dr. Teruo Kawata and his wife, Kiku Kawata, then of Volcano, provided comfort and spiritual insight to our family after the 2001 murder of my brother-in-law Tom Wales, the event that prompted this novel. Dr. Cary Waterhouse, a veterinarian, shared information on feline trap-and-neuter efforts in South Kohala. Dr. Terrence Jones of North Hawai‘i Community Hospital in Waimea, after I’d been maytagged by a wave, attended me with a big smile, an aloha cap, and aloha scrubs. Part of this book was born right then.
In the Methow Valley, my thanks and those of my wife go to Karl and Carol Ege, Dan Dingfield, the late Peter Cipra, and Delene and Bob Monetta, all of whom, in Turgenev’s phrase, helped “chain us to the land,” very pleasantly; also to the Methow Conservancy, a land trust that not only helps preserve the Methow but also works to sustain its people. These include—aspirationally at least—the few surviving Methows, the Native Americans whom the US Government so long ago removed to the distant Colville Reservation. Ancient wintering shelters are real, but sadly their conferring land rights on the Methow people is imaginary.
Elsewhere on the Mainland:
My lifelong friend Barbara Anderson encouraged, prodded, and poked me into writing this book. I would not have started or finished it without her. I’m immensely grateful.
Frederick C. Allen, author of A Decent Ordinary Lynching, a history of the Montana vigilantes, suggested valuable improvements to my manuscript, as did Hoyt Hilsman.
Gary Loomis schooled me in matters of riflery and so much else about the outdoors of the Pacific Northwest and Alaska.
The late Professor Paul A. Freund of Harvard Law School coined the phrase “like a little boy who had the chance to go to the blackboard and spell the word ‘banana’ but didn’t know when to stop” to describe the Supreme Court under Chief Justice Earl Warren. Blackboards are vanishing, but I thought this playful image should not be lost.
Dr. Pat Jarvis of Seattle taught me a great deal about human relationships and how we think and feel; if there are useful insights in this book, they came from Pat. One character’s parting words here, however, were my late father’s parting words to me.
My late brother, Michael Redman, a county prosecutor and head of the Washington Association of Prosecuting Attorneys, taught me a lot about how killers get away with murder or don’t, as did James Yoshida and Nat Gasperetti, former homicide dectectives with the Seattle Police Department.
James and Deborah Fallows are special friends who always give generously of their time to encourage and support my literary efforts, including this time, while writing bestsellers of their own.
My skillful literary agent Anne Depue has shown great patience and good humor; she’s been a boon companion on the winding road to publication. My friend and assistant, Terrell Bond, helped me with research and organization throughout.
Karen Schober drew the excellent maps, working from earlier versions by Jane Shasky.
Friends who were kind enough to read earlier versions of the manuscript include Earl Gjelde, Caroline Hagen, Chris Lynn, and Brett Wilcox.
At Crooked Lane Press, my editor, Ben LeRoy, saw the promise of this tale and was indefatigable in his efforts to see that promise realized; his many observations and suggestions vastly improved it, for which I am grateful. Melissa Rechter and Madeline Rathle of Crooked Lane did the work of converting the manuscript into a book and launching it into the world. I thank them both, as well as Jill Pellarin for excellent copyediting.
My wife, Heather Redman, and our three children, Ian, Graham, and Jing, have all been extraordinarily supportive throughout my efforts to bring this tale to the printed page. They deserve special thanks.
To all those named above, and the many more who’ve helped without recognition, I express my sincere gratitude. If errors remain, they are mine alone.
Kawaihae, Seattle, and Decatur Island 2020
Hawaiian Pronunciation
The few Hawaiian words that appear in this book should be understandable from the context. For pronunciation it helps to know that Hawaiian words end in vowels and are accented on the next to last syllable (except for certain compound or merged words). So haole, heiau, and ihe become “HOW-lay,” “HAY-ow,” and “EE-hay”—or nearly so. In Hawaiian, e is almost always pronounced “ay” as in lay.
Kawika, a Hawaiian transliteration of David, is pronounced “kuh-VEE-kuh.” This reflects the foregoing rules, plus that w is pronounced “v” after a and that the 12-letter Hawaiian alphabet does not include d, for which k is substituted.
The ‘okina, an inverted comma, is considered the 13th letter of the Hawaiian alphabet and signifies a glottal stop before a vowel (pronounced as in “uh-oh”). The kahakō, or macron, signifies that the vowel sound is prolonged rather than short.
Some characters in this book, and the author, use the term Hawai‘i and other words with the ‘okina and kahakō. Others generally just say “Hawaii” without the glottal stop and pronounce other words without the ‘okina or kahakō. This is commonplace in Hawai‘i—and nothing to feel embarrassed about.
Apart from these matters of pronunciation, little else in this book should be relied on as factually or historically accurate. This is
