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Updated: May 18, 2025
Of course Swank, Whinney and I were objects of much curiosity and admiration. Hundreds of times my radiant Daughter of Pearl and Coral repeated: "Ahoa tarumea Kapatooi Naani-Tui" "I should like to make you acquainted with my husband, Face-of-the-Moon." Hundreds of times did I press my chin against soft ears and submit to the same gentle greeting.
"Face-of-the-Moon" passed over the horizon into oblivion whence he emerged to find himself in a tree, his brow eased with an alova-leaf poultice, his heart comforted by Daughter of Pearl and Coral. Excursions beyond the outer reef. Our aquatic wives. Premonitions. A picnic on the mountain. Hearts and flowers. Whinney delivers a geological dissertation. Babai finds a fatu-liva nest.
"And you," she whispered, "are Naani-Tui, Face-of-the-Moon!" I liked that. Frankly I was a bit set up about it. It sounded so much better than Moon-face. I thrust out my left foot, bare of any inscription, and she tickled it playfully with a blade of haro.
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