Samaria winced at the Elder woman’s bright greeting. At the very least she had hoped to slip in quietly to avoid notice. But the old crone was practically sounding a conch to announce her arrival. Knowing she couldn’t let her agitation be seen, she plastered a fake smile across her face.

“Yes, I uh…” She searched for an excuse, her eyes landing on Lagi who had returned to his place with the men. “I wanted to help Lagi with the firewood.”

Ailani smiled and patted her head affectionately. “Such a nice girl,” she praised. “Almost too nice! You nearly missed the beginning of the feast.”

She tutted and linked an arm with Samaria, guiding her back to the bonfire where her friends were. And Kaipo. She grew more queasy with every step, the old woman’s frail arm as inescapable an iron vice. She should have just made an excuse to Lagi. Or turned around when he wasn’t looking. Now she was trapped.

Ailani dropped her off with her friends, who questioned her about where she had been. Lei just gave her a knowing grin, her eyes twinkling.

Samaria was at least spared from trying to explain herself as the sound of conch, this time a real one, echoed across the beach. Her friends tittered excitedly in hushed voices at the sound, giggling and poking Samaria in the side. The feast was about to begin.

Ailani stood at the head feasting table, the other elders rising to their feet beside her. Lofting her drink in the air, she addressed the tribe. “My people! Tonight we gather under the stars and the gods in celebration of a moment. A moment in Kaipo’s life, and our lives, that will forever be remembered. Tonight we welcome him into manhood, and into a new chapter of his life as a full tribe member!”

The people cheered, men giving war cries and women whistling.

“May your spear be true,” Ailani added, “and your flame burn bright. To Kaipo!”

“To Kaipo!” the crowd repeated, lifting their drinks in unison.

When everyone drank, Samaria knocked back the cup her friend had handed her in one go.

The men hoisted Kaipo up on a chair and paraded him around the bonfire, the gong sounding for the beginning of the feast. They did one circle then placed him back on the ground, slapping his back in congratulations. Someone handed him another drink and he chugged, the liquid pouring over his chin. He tossed the now empty cup to the side and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. If he so wished, now would be the time for him to choose a bride. One of his friends brought forward a headband of braided leather, woven beautiful feathers. Parrot feathers.

Kaipo’s eyes lifted to meet Samaria’s, full of fire and promise. She wilted in misery. Here we go.