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The Kite Flyer

This is a story of a man, who was an Iroij, and his wife.  After many years of joy, the wife conceived and gave birth to a son. But the joy was not to last, for she died just as she brought forth the child. After some time, the Iroij took another woman for wife, and she became the boy's stepmother.

One day, the Iroij told the stepmother and his son, "Let’s launch my canoe so my son and I may go fishing. The stepmother, who cared not a bit  for the son, had him carry one end of the canoe by himself, while she and the Iroij took the other end. And so they launched the canoe. Having caught a sufficient amount of fish, the two made their way ashore where, again, the son had one end to himself.

The stepmother then set about preparing their evening meal. Once everything was cooked, she called the Iroij and the two of them sat down to eat. When their bellies could hold no more, she told the boy that he could now eat. But all that remained were breadfruit rinds, coconut shells, and fish bones. And so did they treat him -- his father with indifference and his stepmother with particular malevolence.

The days became months, and the months became years with the cycle unbroken. The canoe would be launched with the son bearing one end all to himself, the meals cooked and consumed by the Iroij and stepmother, and the scraps and bones left to be nibbled by the boy.  One day the Iroij decided to have one of his usual long naps. The boy, knowing how especially cruel his stepmother had become during those occasions, snuck off and passed the time by building a kite. When it was finished,  he flew it into the wind and followed it along the shoreline, while his father continued to slumber. As he followed the flight of his kite, the boy began to chant,

"Oh, kite of my dreams of kindness
Emanating from the farthest north,
To encompass the farthest south,
Oh, breeze, my sibling,
Blow with all your might"

Hearing the boy's chant, the people from the island rushed to the beach to bring offerings and pay him homage, knowing he was of Iroij blood. They beseeched him to honor them for a while with his chiefly presence. He thanked them for their kindness and hospitality but said he must journey on. And throwing his kite aloft, he passed on to the next island chanting,

"Oh, kite of my dreams of kindness
Emanating from the farthest north,
To encompass the farthest south,
Oh, breeze, my sibling,
Blow with all your might".

The people of that island hearing the chant, likewise made haste to greet him and plead with him to grace their midst with his presence. Again, he thanked them but insisted he must continue his journey. And casting his kite to the wind, he went his way chanting,

"Oh, kite of my dreams of kindness
Emanating from the farthest north,
To encompass the farthest south,
Oh, breeze, my sibling,
Blow with all your might".

And so it went, from one island to the next. The people rushed forth with their food offerings and pleas, yet the boy remained resolute. Finally, he reached the shore of the island where his mother had been laid to rest.

Meanwhile, the Iroij was roused by the elders of the many islands the boy had passed. In great alarm, the Iroij raced along the shore frantically searching for his son. Reaching the island where his first wife lay buried, he spied his son sitting directly above his mother's grave. Rushing forward, he reached out to grasp his son. Alas, it was in vain, for the ground opened up and wrenched his son from his arms.

Uttering great cries of sorrow, the Iroij began to dig. He dug and dug till his fingers were stripped of flesh and were mere claws of bones.

As he dug, he would hear the voice of his son inquire from nearby, "Father, oh, father, where do you dig?"

To which, the voice of the mother replied, "Not there, for here is where we certainly are".

Hearing this, the Iroij jumped up and started digging above the spot from where the voices seemed to come. And just as he was about collapse from fatigue and grief, the voice of his son emanated from still another spot nearby inquiring, "Father, oh father, where do you dig?"

To which the voice of the mother again replied, "Not there, for here we certainly are."

And so the Iroij jumped from spot to spot, digging where the voices continued to taunt him till finally, his heart and body could take no more, and he died.