The Seven Trials of Manhood
A short story
***I’m trying something different here, and I hope you like it. This blog remains mostly a political comedy blog.***
In the summer of their 13th year, the boys of the island started trying to touch the big rock in the trench beyond the coral. A deep breath was required, followed by fast paddling down, down, down until they could feel the weight of the ocean pushing against their eardrums. The best divers would be underwater for ages before finally emerging with a handful of moss as a trophy.
Ka’hea wondered if there even was a big rock at the bottom of the trench. He dove until it felt like his brain was going to implode, and then he swam several strokes beyond that, but he could still only flail at nothing in the deep, dark water. It was only when Malo — a boy so innocent that he didn't see what Ka’hea was planning when he asked if the moss on the big rock was like the moss on other rocks in the bay — surfaced with a pinch of moss that Ka’hea believed that the rock actually was there.
The boys didn’t dive for the rock just for fun; it was practice for The Seven Trials of Manhood. It was the only trial they could easily practice; they weren’t allowed to try to lift The Stone Of Vitality, and The Falls Of Great Courage were on the other side of the island. Most of their trial would have to wait until Po’aka took the boys into the hills at the end of the summer.
Ka’hea grew nervous as the trials drew near. He never could touch the big rock. The Spear Fishing Trial was the only one he knew for sure he could pass. Ka’hea shuddered at the thought of failing the Trials and being forced to spend the rest of his life cooking food and weaving baskets with the women. As an orphan, he’d be given all the worst chores. The women already made him empty the toilets and tend the hearth until his eyes burnt. If he couldn’t pass the trials, he wouldn’t even be allowed to fish. He had to pass.
Po’aka was a stout man with a barrel chest. He had big, knotty calves and a scar on his face from an encounter with a shark long ago. He barked “Keep up!” at the boys as they hiked into the hills, even though the boys — young, light, and eager to prove themselves — practically led the way as their elder waddled along. In camp that night, Po’aka wore The Headdress Of The Trial Leader and stood next to the fire.
“Who knows why we do the trails?” he asked the boys. They all knew. They looked at each other. Finally, Auhalo spoke up: “When Ash Nakano rose from the sea…”
“QUIET!” Po’aka shouted. He glared at the boys. “When Ash Nakano rose from the sea,” he began, “and created the O’Kahano people, he saw that he would need great warriors to protect them from the A’Hanako. So, he created The Seven Trials Of Manhood. These trials determine who will become a man of the O’Kahano. Your test begins tomorrow. And if you need to take a dump, do it at the bottom of the hill.”
Ka’hea went to sleep wondering if that last bit was part of the ceremony or some unrelated housekeeping that Po’aka had tacked on at the end.
The first day’s trial was The Trial Of The Stone Of Vitality. The stone was knee-high to most of the boys, and the priests had painted it red. It sat on top of a small hill. As the sun rose above the cliff, Po’aka addressed the boys.
“With no other person’s help, you must lift the stone,” he said. Po’aka began to lift the stone but lost his balance and immediately dropped it. The boys pretended not to notice. Quickly, Po’aka regrouped and heaved the stone up to his belly. “You must hold it for three seconds. ONE! TWO! THREE!" Po’aka let go and the stone thudded back to earth, leaving an impression in the sandy ground. “Who’s first?” Po’aka asked.
Iko’hlo was the biggest boy in the group; he went first and easily lifted the stone. The boys cheered. Malapiana went next and also lifted the stone, but not easily. The next several boys all managed to lift the stone, but with each boy, the cocky “hey, no sweat” face that he tried to put on was less convincing.
When it was Malo’s turn, he looked nervous. He spent a long time trying to grip the stone; he kept adjusting his feet and trying to dig his fingers into the stone’s holes. “Go,” said Po’aka. When Malo tried to lift the stone, he could only drag it sideways. He tried six times, closing his eyes and straining until veins throbbed in his forehead. But he could only scoot the stone along the ground.
“You failed,” said Po’aka. “I can do it,” said Malo, but Po’aka spoke again, louder this time: “YOU FAILED!” Malo stood still for a second, stunned. But then he sat down and pulled his knees into his chest.
The smaller boys looked at each other: This was troubling. Malo was average-sized — if he couldn’t lift the rock, how could they? Ka’hea knew that Malo was the better swimmer, runner, and jumper of the two. But before he could process what had happened, Po’aka barked: “Ka’hea — go!”
Ka’hea approached the stone. He planted his feet and futzed with his grip, just as Malo had done. A voice in his head said: “There is no way you are going to lift this stone.” He continued to adjust his feet and grip.
A few feet from the stone, where the hill began to slope sharply down, was a palm tree. Instead of sticking straight up, the base of the tree sloped softly away from the crest of the hill. It ran horizontal to the ground for about a foot and then turned slowly upward until it was vertical. Ka’hea tried to lift the stone, but, like Malo, he could only drag it sideways. So, he did drag it sideways — he dragged it to the tree. When the stone was at the tree, Ka’hea braced his back against the palm. He placed one foot on either side of the trunk and put his ass crack on the part of the tree that ran at a 45 degree angle. Then, Ka’hea started to shimmy the stone up the horizontal base of the tree.
“Hey,” said Iko’hlo. But Malapiana jumped in: “No person is helping him!” The boys kept quiet as Ka’hea worked the stone up the tree. Eventually, he got the stone so that it was half on the tree and half on his upper leg. Ka’hea squirmed and tried to figure out what came next. Po’aka watched with curiosity; the smaller boys watched with hope.
Ka’hea locked his fingers beneath the stone, then used the right side of his body to heave himself and the stone off the tree. Ka’hea’s right foot swung around and stuck in the sand. For an instant, Ka’hea was in perfect balance, with the stone pressed against his belly. “ONETWOTHREE!” he yelled, and then dropped the stone.
The boys were silent — would Po’aka allow this? The elder looked angry; he narrowed his eyes. But after a long silence, he yelled “Lonai — go!” And all the other boys passed the trial using Ka’hea’s shimmy-up-the-tree technique.
The next morning, Po’aka and the boys stood at the top of The Falls Of Great Courage. “All O’Kahano men must make the jump,” Po’aka said. He turned to the falls and bent his knees to jump. But he froze with his knees bent; he stayed that way for several seconds, bouncing slightly as if about to jump but never leaving his feet. The falls roared next to him. The boys peeked over the rocks; the lagoon at the bottom of the falls looked impossibly small.
Finally, Po’aka jumped. But when he left his feet, he turned and tried to grab the cliff. He brushed his fingers against the rock, which sent his body spinning end over end. The boys watched Po’aka tumble towards the lagoon. His back hit the water with a crisp “PAP!” that the boys could hear clearly at the top of the falls. After a tense few seconds, Po’aka emerged from the water. He dragged himself to a rock and laid there, breathing heavily. The boys watched his back turn slowly red. Finally — just when the group was about to be overtaken by a sense of “now what?” — Po’aka yelled “Malapiana — go!”
By the time it was Ka’hea’s turn, there were several damp-and-shaken boys sitting by the lagoon. Malo had made the jump but was crying; Iko’hlo had hurt his foot and it wasn’t clear if he was okay. Ka’hea considered several palm-tree-esque loopholes but concluded that none of them were viable.
Ka’hea didn’t like that this trial basically handed his fate to the Gods. He wasn’t on great terms with the Gods; few orphans are. He also wondered in what way this was really a trial. Most trials tested strength or skill; this trial just tested a boy’s ability to plummet. A bag of rocks could pass this trial. But Ka’hea jumped, and was rewarded with water shooting up his nose and seeming to nestle in his brain when he hit the lagoon. Still, he passed the trial, and so did all the other boys.
The next day was stormy. Rain pummeled the island, and wind churned up the seas and tossed around the small canoes that were supposed to take the boys out for The Spear Fishing Trial.
Po’aka didn’t order the boys into the canoes. Instead, he took a rock and drew a fish on a wall in a cave by the beach. He picked up a spear: “You must spear the fish,” he said. He threw the spear and missed. “You must spear the fish before the sun sets,” he said. After a few throws, Po’aka hit the fake fish.
Ka’hea was angry. The trial was supposed to be to spear a real fish before the sun sets. And that wasn’t easy; Ka’hea was one of the only boys who never returned from a fishing trip empty-handed. But any boy could hit a fish on a wall. And soon, they all had.
Back at camp, Ka’hea stewed. “What’s the point of this?”, he thought. He looked at Po’aka, who had ordered some boys to hold leaves above him to shield him from the rain. Po’aka clearly enjoyed bossing the boys around, maybe because no-one in the village listened to him. The men were sick of him because he was always picking fights, and the women avoided him altogether. The village had made him Trial Leader just to get rid of him for a while.
Malo was the only boy so far who had failed a trail. He would have one more chance on The Day Of Redemption, but he was nervous. Ka’hea brought him a yam. “How are you?” he asked.
“I can lift the rock,” Malo said.
“I know,” said Ka’hea. “I lifted it, and you’re stronger than me.”
“But you’re smarter,” said Malo.
“Well,” said Ka’hea, “that’s not the trial.”
The sun came out on the fourth day. Po’aka led the boys into the jungle and found some yellowroot, a small, lumpy tuber with blue spots. Po’aka mashed up the root and mixed it with water in a bowl. “Hold out your hands,” he told Lonai.
Lonai held his hands together in a bowl shape. Po’aka poured the liquid into Lonai’s hands. “Now, drink,” he said.
Most of the boys had encountered yellowroot before. If you ate berries from a bush growing next to yellowroot, your bowels would mutiny against your body. Ka’hea’s older brother Nai once dared him to lick some yellowroot, and Ka’hea spent that night lying on the beach with fluid erupting from both ends of his body.
Lonai drank, and so did Malo, Iko’hlo, Nalana, and U’lali. Ka’hea was next; he cupped his hands, and Po’aka poured in the yellowroot-tainted water. “Drink,” he said.
Ka’hea thought about that night on the beach. So much fluid exploded from his body that he remembered thinking: “How do I still exist? Several times my body volume has escaped through my holes — there should just be an empty, me-shaped bag lying on the beach.” And that was from just licking yellowroot.
Ka’hea looked at the foul water in his hands. He could see little flecks of poison floating around. He looked up at Po’aka. “Drink,” said the grouchy old man.
The next word escaped Ka’hea’s mouth almost against his will: “Why?” he asked. Which is not a question that you’re supposed to ask during The Seven Trials.
Po’aka’s brow furrowed. The boys looked at the elder — how would he respond? Would he fail Ka’hea on the spot? Would he pick the boy up and chuck him off a cliff? They froze in anticipation.
Po’aka pushed Ka’hea’s hands towards his mouth. “DRINK,” he said.
This time, Ka’hea spoke on purpose: “Why? Why drink? What does it prove?”
“It proves you’re a man,” Po’aka said.
“Why does it prove that?” Ka’hea asked. "How does it prove that?” The odds of the boy being chucked off a cliff were rising by the second.
But Po’aka didn’t move towards Ka’hea. He simply said “Ka’hea will not drink.”
“No, I didn’t say that,” Ka’hea quickly replied. “I just want to know why I’m drinking.”
The answer came back: “Because if you don’t drink, you fail.”
Ka’hea wanted to keep asking questions. He wanted to ask who really invented the trials, and why they still mattered, and why this trial didn’t involve identifying yellowroot and avoiding it altogether. But he also didn’t want to fail.
Po’aka spoke next. “Ka’hea will not drink. Ka’hea f—…”. But before he could say “fails”, Ka’hea quickly gulped down the water.
That night, the boys spread out amongst the jungle as everything inside them violently came out. A symphony of moans, poops, and heaves filled the air.
Ka’hea chose a spot on the beach — lying on the beach with yellowroot sickness was becoming a ritual for him. He dug two holes, one for whatever foulness came out of either end. He stripped naked and lay down.
He thought of Nai. Two years ago, Nai had gone to the trials and not come back. The boys from that year never spoke about what happened; Po’aka didn’t either. This was custom. Ka’hea couldn’t get anyone to tell him anything, and no parents were around to demand answers.
Ka’hea wondered if Nai had lay on that same beach dying of yellowroot poisoning. Or maybe he had missed the lagoon jumping off The Falls Of Great Courage. Or maybe he’d passed out diving for the big rock. Ka’hea could only lay there, suffer, and wonder.
On the fifth day, the boys watched Po’aka straddle a small tide pool by the beach. Several shockfish slithered and swam in the pool. Po’aka squatted down; he lifted his penis and dipped his balls into the pool.
“The fish won’t shock you if you show fear,” he said. “You must be unafraid.” Po’aka stared straight ahead and closed his eyes. He breathed in a deep breath and then let it out slowly.
The shockfish seemed mostly uninterested in Po’aka’s balls. But then, one of them darted towards the exposed sack. The boys heard a faint “tk!” as the fish swam by.
“HA-AAAAAAA!”, Po’aka yelled. He grimaced, then backed away from the tide pool and rolled onto his side. “Hooooo-oooooooh,” he moaned. He shut his eyes tight. He stayed still for a moment, and then spoke. “Soon,” he said, his eyes still clenched shut, “my testes will be as big as those of the Gods.”
Before long, Po’aka’s testes were, indeed, big, puffy, and red — some would say “Godlike”. And soon after that, all the boys except for Ka’hea had swollen, red testicles. They lay in agony by the tide pool nursing their majestic nads.
Because of the standoff the day before, Po’aka called Ka’hea’s name last. The boys wondered what Ka’hea would do. Ka’hea wondered, too.
When it was finally his turn, Ka’hea squatted over the tide pool and lifted his penis, as all the other boys had done. But he didn’t dip his sack into the pool. “I can do it,” he said to Po’aka, “but first you need to tell me why.”
Po’aka’s agony had eased a bit; he was now sitting normally. “You must pass The Trial Of The Shockfish,” he said, “to become a man.”
For the second time in two days, words escaped Ka’hea’s mouth without his full permission. “That’s stupid,” he said.
Po’aka’s eyes great wide. His nostrils flared. “Stupid?” he said. He raised his arm and pointed a bony finger across the water. “Do you see that island?” he asked. He was pointing to The Spotted Isle.
“On The Spotted Isle, the A’Hanako plan our destruction. Look: Even now, you can see their campfires.” The boys looked; a faint haze was visible on one end of the island. “The Seven Trials Of Manhood determine who among us is worthy to battle the A’Hanako.”
“And if I fail this trial,” said Ka’hea, “and the A’Hanako attack, and I pick up a spear, will anyone say ‘Stop, you didn’t pass the trial?’ Or will they want me to fight?”
Po’aka didn’t answer. He sat perfectly still and glared at the rebellious boy. Ka’hea stood up, speaking now with more conviction. “And what about the boys who don’t come back from the trial? How are we stronger without them? And the girls who disappear during the Women’s Trials — how does losing them protect us from the A’Hanako?”
Po’aka continued to be perfectly still except for his nostrils, which rumbled with activity.
Ka’hea pressed on. “And why are we afraid of the A’Hanako? The oldest people in the village can’t remember the last time they attacked. Maybe they’re happy to just stay on their island and let us stay on ours.”
Now Po’aka stood up. He was bigger and taller than Ka’hea, and his huge, puffy testicles gleamed in the sun. He looked down at the boy. “You’re a coward,” he said.
“No, you’re a coward,” Ka’hea shot back. “Because you don’t question anything.”
Having failed The Trial Of The Shockfish, there was no reason for Ka’hea to do The Trial Of The Sea Shells. He watched while the other boys took part. Po’aka taunted him: “Ka’hea’s not man enough to do The Trial Of The Sea Shells!” he said as he squeezed the tenth and final shell up his ass. “The Gods laugh at him, for his rectum holds no shells!”
Po’aka continued to taunt Ka’hea during The Trial Of The Big Rock. “Ka’hea failed the other two trials,” he crowed, “because he knew he was going to fail The Trial Of The Big Rock anyway!”
Several boys failed The Trial Of The Big Rock. The seas were choppy that day, which made it difficult to dive. The boys bobbed in their canoes and watched boy after boy surface without a handful of moss. Even Iko’hlo — who had always touched the rock during practice — returned to the surface empty handed.
“My foot’s hurt,” Iko’hlo said, clearly distressed. “I can’t kick right.”
“A man of the O’Kahano make no excuses,” said Po’aka.
“But my foot —”
“NO EXCUSES!” Po’aka yelled. “Iko’hlo fails!”
“I’ve seen him do it,” Ka’hea shouted. “We’ve all seen him do it. Why does he have to do it today?”
“That is the way of The Trials.”
“The way of The Trials is dumb.”
Po’aka snorted. “You say that,” he said, “because you can’t pass The Trials.”
Ka’hea had had enough. He stood up in the canoe, took the biggest breath of his life, and dove into the water.
Ka’hea paddled underwater harder than he had ever paddled before. He felt the water grow cold, then felt the ocean grow heavy against his ears. But he kept paddling down, down, down. He reached the point that he felt was probably the deepest he’d ever swam, and then kept swimming. His brain shouted “stop!” but his brain wasn’t in charge. Ka’hea felt insane — he swam deeper than he knew he should. For an instant, he wondered: “Is this how Nai died?”
Mid-stroke, Ka’hea’s knuckle banged against something hard. He snapped back into focus: It must be the rock. Ka’hea’s left hand swiped wildly for some moss while he pushed off the rock with his feet. And then he kicked wildly in a desperate bid for the surface.
Up in the canoes, the boys watched in silence. Several of them counted in their heads and wondered what was the highest number they could reach with Ka’hea still being okay. Many of them had passed that number when Ka’hea suddenly surfaced, face-first, and began gasping for air. Malo jumped in the water to make sure Ka’hea didn’t pass out. He held his friend by the waist while a half-conscious Ka’hea dog-paddled to the nearest canoe.
The boys hauled Ka’hea into the boat. He laid there, curled in a ball, emergency-breathing. Po’aka pushed the boys aside and stood over Ka’hea. When Ka’hea’s breathing had normalized a bit, Po’aka asked: “Did you touch the rock?”
Ka’hea opened his eyes, which were bright pink. He looked at his elder. “Yes,” he managed to say, “I touched it.”
Po’aka’s expression didn’t change. “Where is the moss?” he asked.
Ka’hea just breathed.
“If you touched the rock, you would have moss,” Po’aka said.
Now Ka’hea answered: “You could touch the rock and not get moss.”
“So you have no moss.”
“I touched the rock.”
“No you didn’t.”
“The trial is to touch the rock, not to get moss.”
"If you touched it, you would have moss.”
“I touched the rock.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Yes you are.”
“I’m NOT lying!” Ka’hea shouted.
Ka’hea glared at the scar-faced man. He resented the power that Po’aka had over him. He was angry at the village for giving Po’aka that power. And more than anything, he hated the impulse in people that caused them to mindlessly follow old rituals instead of finding their own way.
Ka’hea held up his left hand: He showed everyone the moss that he had grabbed from the rock. And then he threw the moss down in the canoe. And he added: “The Trials are dumb.”
On the morning of The Day Of Redemption, Po’aka woke early and went to the beach alone, in accordance with custom. He lit a fire, put on The Headdress Of The Trial Leader, and waited for the boys. As the sun came up, the group of boys emerged from the trees and walked towards Po’aka. They were quiet and walked slowly.
Po’aka could tell that something was wrong. And by the time the boys reached him, he knew what it was.
“Where’s Ka’hea?” he asked.
Iko’hlo answered: “We thought maybe he was with you.”
At that moment, Ka’hea was in a stolen canoe half way to The Spotted Isle. He was far out enough that no-one could see him. And he knew that he had enough energy to paddle the rest of the way.
Ka’hea steered toward the campfires at the edge of The Spotted Isle. As he got close, he saw people come to the beach to look at him. By the time he was in among the waves, several dozen A’Hanako men and women were on the beach. When Ka’hea got out of the canoe and started walking toward shore, an A’Hanako man walked towards him.
The man walked quickly. He was thin and agile, more of a teenager than a man. His paced quickened as he got closer to Ka’hea. Soon, the man was running, charging at Ka’hea through the water.
Ka’hea froze; maybe he had made a mistake. But then he saw the man’s face: It was Nai. It couldn’t be, but somehow it was. The older boy forced his way through the water and enveloped his younger brother in a mighty hug. Through tears, he managed to say “Ka’hea.” Ka’hea was crying too hard to say anything. Nai added: “My brother.”
Behind Nai on the beach were several boys and girls who had disappeared during The Trials in previous years. Most were men and women now, but some were young enough that Ka’hea remembered them. La’koa — who had been Ka’hea’s first crush — was standing on the beach.
The brothers continued to hug. “I knew you’d come,” said Nai. “I knew you’d come.”
When Ka’hea got to the beach, everyone crowded around him. They hugged him and welcomed him and offered him food. They led him to a clearing where a feast was laid out. “What’s this?” Ka’hea asked his long-lost brother.
“This,” Nai answered, “is a feast. A celebration. For you. In honor of your accomplishment.”
Ka’hea was confused. “My accomplishment?”
“Today,” said Nai, “You have passed The One Trial Of Manhood.”
**********POLL**********
My reaction to the piece I just read is:
1. Maurer has really gone off the deep end; I prefer his normal crap. [VOTE FOR THIS]
2. Maurer has really gone off the deep end but this crap kind of worked for me and I wouldn't be upset if more stuff like it showed up on this blog. [VOTE FOR THIS]
I started the story a skeptic but was won over. This was a really well-done and clever fable, and I was happy to see your sense of humor too!
Absolutely love this, no wonder your job is writing