This Christmas I have a very special treat for you! I have written a whimsical Hawaiian short story for all ages to enjoy. I hope you will enjoy it and read it to your keiki.
Mele Kalikimaka and Hau'oli Makahiki Hou,
Marionette
The Banana Princess
by Marionette Taboniar
Copyright © 2021 Marionette Taboniar.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, by photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright holder except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or by any other means without the permission of the author is illegal and punishable by law.
There once was an adorable boy who was born on Kaua’i right next to the Swinging Bridge of the Hanapepe River. He had a large family and was the youngest boy of nine keiki. He had three older brothers, four older sisters and one younger sister. His mother and tutu raised them all on his uncle’s farm. They didn’t have much, but through hard work, they survived. His mother worked long hours at the pineapple cannery and took on odd jobs washing clothes for friends and neighbors. After his older brothers married and moved on, little JoJo assumed their responsibilities and had to work hard on the farm every day after school so that his tutu, mother, and sisters would have enough kau kau to eat. He milked the cows, fed the pigs, and cleaned the pig pen. Then he would throw scratch feed for the chickens and ducks and tend the vegetable garden. It was also his chore to help his uncle mend the pasture fences and collect pig slop from the nearby homes.
He was a very hard-working boy, but he was also prone to getting himself into mischief from time to time. They lived on the edge of the pineapple plantation, and he would sometimes pluck a ripe pineapple or two to bring home. The pineapples were so sweet it was like candy to them. On occasion he would sneak out of his bedroom window at night with his pillowcase and load it up with lychee from a neighbor’s tree. He couldn’t resist the sweet fruit and would eat so much he often ended up with a sore stomach. Although he would be scolded for these naughty deeds, his mother couldn’t be angry for too long. She knew little JoJo just wanted to make life easier by bringing home the fruits of the island to feed his family.
The one fruit he cherished above all others was the banana. Whenever he saw a nice bunch it was his instinct to cut them down and haul them home. After the neighbors complained about their “missing” bananas a few times, JoJo’s mother explained to him that it wasn’t pono to take other people’s bananas. And she added that he wasn’t allowed to do so ever again. JoJo nodded, said he was sorry, and vowed never to cut down another bunch of bananas unless it came from their own patch.
On a warm Christmas Eve JoJo woke up to the familiar crows of the roosters and was greeted by a shimmering sunrise with rosy clouds and bright blue skies. He pulled on his play pants made from old rice bags and scampered out to his banana patch excited to cut down the bunch of green bananas so his mother could make banana masa for their Christmas pasteles – a delicacy rich in spices that has been compared to tamales. JoJo’s tutu brought their family recipe with her to the islands when she traveled from Puerto Rico to work the sugar cane fields.
As JoJo reached for his cane knife, he stared in disbelief. The banana tree had fallen down from the recent strong trade winds, and the chickens had eaten every speck of banana – only the skins were left behind. He sat down on the banana tree stump and almost cried. He couldn’t return to the house empty handed and he couldn’t raid his neighbor’s banana patch either. He was so looking forward to his Christmas pasteles – his favorite food in the whole world. He put his head down to ponder his situation. The sound of two myna birds squawking jolted him out of his trance and from behind the banana patch appeared a radiant wahine wearing an ancient pareo and a haku lei of bright red ohia lehua flowers entwined with mokihana berries and maile from the forests of Kokee. She smelled of jasmine and gardenias and greeted him with a bright and loving smile like a Hawaiian princess.
She lifted her hands to the sky and started swaying side to side as she sang a Hawaiian mele. Her voice was enchanting and little JoJo felt chicken skin all over his body. When she was all pau, a large pueo magically appeared from the sky. With a flick of her hand, she shrunk both herself and JoJo to a fraction of their size so that they could mount the majestic pueo and fly high in the clear blue sky. Because they were poor, he’d never been on a helicopter ride, so he’d never seen Kaua’i from that high before. It was thrilling to see his house get smaller as they climbed. The pueo veered off to the south where they flew by the waterfall he swam at with his friends. Next, they cruised over the ocean, and he waved to his classmates surfing below – but of course they couldn’t see him.
He asked the wahine where they were going, and she just flashed him a warm and soothing smile. Soon they arrived at a lush garden filled with every flower, plant, and fruit found on the island. They landed right in front of a huge banana patch. The lovely wahine started to dance and chant once again, and a perfect bunch of bananas fell to the ground. A loud grunt was heard as a large boar with tusks that made JoJo jump back, popped out from between the trees. Next, they heard some giggling as a group of menehune sprang to work securing the bananas on the back of the pig with some rope.
The young lady and JoJo got back on the pueo, flashed a shaka to the menehune for their help and flew just high enough to lead the pig back to JoJo’s farm. With another flick of her hula hand she transformed them to their regular size and JoJo waved to the magical pueo as he flew away. Hearing his mother calling him, he turned his head towards her. “JoJo where you stay?” she yelled.
“I stay here in the banana patch,” he replied. He turned to say mahalo to the beautiful girl, but there was no trace of her other than the elegant haku lei. When his mother questioned him as to where he had been, he didn’t want to lie, but he couldn’t tell her what really happened. She’d never believe him and would accuse him of telling stories again. Instead, he told her that he went into the forest to gather the materials to make her something for Christmas. He asked her to bend down, and then he set the lei delicately atop her head and then kissed her on each cheek. “Mele Kalikimaka Mommy!”
“Oh JoJo! You are such a good and hard-working boy. This lei is so full of love. I can feel it. Come help me peel and grind these lovely bananas for the masa so we can make your favorite – Christmas pasteles.”
As they approached the house, he could smell the distinct scent of achiote oil on the stove, fresh baked sweet bread in the oven, and a batch of lau lau steaming in the imu pit. And just like that he knew his Christmas present would be a feast of pasteles, lau lau, poi, sweet bread and all his favorite kau kau lovingly made by his mother and tutu.
It was a Christmas he would never forget. No matter how many times he tried to retrace his steps back to the magical garden, he could never find it. As he got older, married, and had keiki of his own, he always told them the story of the Banana Princess on Christmas Eve as he tucked them into bed. He never saw the Hawaiian Princess again either, but thereafter his garden always had an ample supply of bananas, and they always had a feast of pasteles on Christmas day.
The End!
