Mrs. Brewster took the flower. “My, that’s lovely! It seems to me I’ve been smelling this lovely scent ever since we’ve been here.” “You have. This blossom is highly perfumed. It makes our island the sweetest smelling place in the world.” The old woman had finished. She arose and draped the newly made lei around Monica’s neck. “For the nani keiki,” she said. “That means for the ‘beautiful child.’” Monica blushed, but her smile showed her pleasure. “Thank you,” she said, dipping her head. Mr. Mahenili handed the woman some money. “Mahalo, mahalo,” she said. “And now she’s saying, ‘Thank you,’ to us,” Hank Mahenili explained. Half an hour later, following a thrilling ride up the twisting road running over the pali, the cliffs, of the Koolau Mountain range, they dropped swiftly down to sea level again on the north side of the island. A short run along broad, curving beaches, and they arrived at the Mahenilis’ beach-front home on Waimanalo Bay. The warmth and gracious hospitality of the Mahenili family made the Brewsters feel at home immediately. The Mahenilis’ son, Likake, fifteen, and Biff were old friends within an hour of their meeting. Little Wikolia Mahenili was just Monica and Ted’s age, but quite a bit smaller. She considered the twins her personal property and showed them around with great pride. There was only one cloud to mar the Brewsters’ sky-high happiness. Dr. Johann Weber was still missing. Late in the second afternoon of the Brewsters’ stay in Honolulu, Biff and Likake were swimming when Biff saw his father come down to the beach and hail him. “Let’s go, Li!” Biff called, and the boys rode a breaker back to the shore. “Hi, Dad. You want me?” Water dripped off Biff’s tanned body. Likake, his round brown face with its usual eager expression, stood beside him. “I want you to get dressed, now, son. I’d like you to come to the dinner and evening session of our meeting,” Mr. Brewster said. “You bet, Dad. Wouldn’t miss it for anything. This is the night you speak, isn’t it?”
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