Chapter 14
Kokoro
Mrs. Monroe and Paco stayed with Pete for about a year. Most of that time was spent building the house, tending to the coffee, and gathering livestock. Paco was a patient teacher, and Pete was an eager student. The skills of braiding a rope, tying a bull-nose knot, throwing and dallying a lasso from the ground and on horseback, were practiced for hours on end. Paco also taught him how to properly throw a young calf without hurting the animal, how to wrestle a stubborn steer to the ground, and even how to turn a calf while it was still inside its pregnant mother. There is a lot involved in running a cattle ranch, and Pete had to learn everything from the ground up. Although Paco was now nearly 80 years old, he was a caballero through and through. Pete couldn’t have found a better man to learn from. Paco’s whole life had been spent on horseback or working cattle and in no time at all, Pete was starting to look and act like a genuine cowboy.
Operating a cattle ranch is not just about cows. It is also about horses. Now I’m pretty sure that most of you readers are cowboys at heart, so I’ll share a little secret. A real cowboy is only as good as his horse. No matter how accurate he is with his rope, if the horse doesn’t put him in position, he will miss every time. That means all the horses have to be trained as cow ponies. The horse has to know when to cut, when to back up and put tension on the rope, how to stay facing what’s been roped, and about a thousand other things. Heck, I reckon now that I think about it, the horse is probably smarter than most of us cowboys.
In the beginning, it was Mrs. Monroe who took charge of the horses. She had been in Hawai‘i for only a few months and had already gotten to know all of the horse traders by name. She was one truly remarkable woman. Although she had found some top quality stock and purchased enough horses to get them started, she hadn’t found the one horse she was lookin’ for. She wanted to find that one special horse to give to Pete as a gift before she left the islands. She wanted to make sure her son had a good mount to keep him safe. It might seem strange to think of a horse keeping a man safe, but there’s many a cowboy who owes his life to his horse.
Time was running out. Soon Mrs. Monroe and Paco would be leaving to return to the Mainland. One morning, she got up earlier than usual and was riding out of the now completed ranch area when Pete and Paco stepped out onto the lanai.
“I wonder where mother is off to so early.”
“I do not know Señor, but I know she is excited this day.”
Mrs. Monroe had been thinking about riding over to the Ka‘ū district of the Big Island to investigate some rumors she heard about a horse that was “not from the living,” as the locals put it. Although she wasn’t generally a superstitious woman, she had been in the islands long enough to respect the beliefs of the Hawaiian people and trust them about all things concerning animals and nature. She had never seen a horse “not from the living” and had her doubts as to what she might find. Her time to return to her own home back in Boston was rapidly approaching. Before she left, she knew she had to find that one special horse for her son.
As she turned her horse off the main road on the outskirts of Ka‘ū that morning, she felt as if she’d stepped back in time. She rode up a trail that was surrounded by hapu‘u, guava, and mango trees. It seemed like all the birds on the island had gathered to sing greetings to her. A wild sow with her babies stopped to look at her as she rode past before continuing their rummage for food. She had visited many places around Hawai‘i but never before had she felt the serene peace that came over her as she guided her horse along that trail.
Her serenity was abruptly shattered by an unearthly scream, unlike anything Annie Monroe had ever heard. It made her shiver. The scream she heard sounded as if it might be a horse, and yet it sounded human. It was an eerie sound, not so much a scream of fear or anger, but oddly like a scream of happiness. I asked her once if she could describe it and she gave me a pretty vivid description.
“Bill,” she told me, “if a horse was able to yell ‘whoopee!’ in pure joyful abandon, I guess that’s what it sounded like.”
By now I’ve heard that horse’s scream more than once, and I reckon she hit the nail right on the head. I will say it still rattles me every time I hear it.
As Annie approached the small house that morning, the horse was standing against a high cliff with a waterfall off to one side. That was her first look at what had let out that blood-curdling scream. Standing inside a small corral, with its head held high, was the most striking animal she had ever seen. With a shiny black mane blowing in the breeze, nostrils flaring, and a look of defiance in its eyes, stood a young stallion unlike anything she had ever seen in all her years around horses. It wasn’t an unusually large horse, although compared to most of the horses in Hawai‘i, it stood a good two hands taller. What impressed her most at first, were the muscles rippling across the horse’s chest and hind quarters. Without a doubt, this was a horse to be reckoned with. As though the horse could read her mind, it reared up on its hind legs, pawed at the clouds, and let out another scream.
Years later she told me, “Bill, I felt as if that horse was laughing at me. It was the strangest thing, but I swear to this day it knew exactly what I was thinking.”
Anyway, as she stood watching this great beast rearing up and screaming at the heavens, out of the house appeared an even stranger sight.
“Ohayou gozaimasu, Monroe-san. Kyou wa ii tenki desu ne. I think you come sooner, but all in good time, eh? Shikata na gai.”
Standing by the front door smiling at her, was a very old and wrinkled little man who looked like he had stepped out of another century. His hair was pulled back tight and wound up in a top knot. He was dressed in a beautiful kimono with an obi around his waist. Tucked inside was a gold silk fan. He stood there grinning at Mrs. Monroe and seemed genuinely pleased to see her.
“Dozo,” he motioned her to come into the house. “We have tea and discuss why Kokoro should go to Peter-san.”
To say the least, Annie Monroe was more than a little startled. A strange little Japanese man, whom she had never before met, acted as if they were close friends and he had been expecting her visit. As he helped her off her horse, she felt weightless in his grasp. This tiny wrinkled old man couldn’t have weighed more than 100 pounds, but he lifted her off that saddle like she was a toy doll. Although he looked to be well over 80 years old, he had the confident walk of a young man out to conquer the world.
“So sorry, Monroe-san, I know who you are, but you do not know me. I apologize, how unthoughtful of me. I hope you come sooner to see Kokoro. For long time I hear you look for horse for your son, and I know there is only one horse for him. Please forgive me, my name is Toshiro. Sit, I will bring tea.”
He quickly disappeared through a beautifully painted sliding door. His guest looked around the room. It appeared nearly empty except for a low table and floor cushions to sit on. There was an elegant vase of flowers on one end of the table. In no time, he reappeared with a lacquer tray, two small china cups, and a steaming pot of tea. Annie watched him as he placed the tray on the table.
“Sir, I am at a loss for words. You seem to know exactly who I am and why I am here, as though we have met before. But I do not know you.”
“Hai, we have not met before. I knew you were coming from my dreams, and this morning Kokoro tells me you arrive today. Please forgive an old man his rudeness. We just wait very long time for you to come.”
So it was that Toshiro and Mrs. Monroe first met. They drank tea and talked for hours. By the time they finished and were about to go out and see this special horse, she had shared her life story with her new found friend.
“Now, it is time to meet Kokoro. He is impatient for this moment and sometimes he is not very well behaved. Ah well, shikata na gai. Come, you see. He is strong Japanese war horse, and there is no other like him in all these islands.”
As they approached the corral, the high-spirited horse stood with his head raised and pranced around in front of them. But when t
he old man climbed the fence and jumped into the corral, the horse calmly walked up and nuzzled him like a puppy.
Annie Monroe had spent a lifetime around horses, but in all her experience with these animals, nothing had prepared her for a beast of such breathtaking beauty and spirit. Before her stood the very essence of magnificence with its gleaming black coat and a proud bearing that spoke of royal birth. This horse had the spirit of a true champion. Kokoro was completely black except for a patch of reddish gold on his chest that resembled a shield.
“He’s beautiful, Mr. Toshiro. Do you ride him often?”
“Oh no, Monroe-san, I am just an old man who feeds and cares for him. No man has ridden Kokoro yet. Only your son ride this horse.”
Now, if there’s one thing Mrs. Monroe knew how to do, it was bargain for horses, and she had done so most of her life. With the thoroughbreds she raised for her own track and even as a young girl in Portugal, she could bargain with the best of them. She was about to make an offer for the horse when once again, the old man seemed to know her inner soul.
“See, Kokoro is by gate and ready to go home. Better you take him to Peter-san before he leave without you.”
Sure enough, the beautiful stallion stood by the gate with a look of great excitement but seemingly mixed with a look of sadness. He would prance around the corral gate, then stop suddenly, bow his head, and look at Toshiro. The next minute he’d go right back to high stepping by the gate.
Mrs. Monroe looked into the old man’s eyes. “Mr. Toshiro, this is the horse I have been searching for. Please name your price and I will pay it. There is no point in bargaining for this animal, for surely we both know he is priceless. Please sir, I will pay whatever you ask. My son must have this horse.”
So much for all her years of horse trading. I reckon that wild beast could do that to a person. How can you put a price on perfection?
“I will take no money. This horse was destined for Peter-san before it was born. Please take Kokoro home now and let this old man have some peace and quiet. It has been a pleasure to finally meet you. Sayonara.” Toshiro took a deep bow, opened the corral gate, then turned away and disappeared into the house.
Mrs. Monroe wasn’t quite sure what to expect from this magnificent beast, nor was she sure how she would get him home. She didn’t even have a rope. Her own horse was nervous around this wild stallion and began to shy away when she approached with Kokoro. But as fate would have it, there would be no need for a rope or halter. The feisty animal calmly walked along side her and her horse all the way to the slopes overlooking Pete’s ranch. It was as if he knew exactly where he was going. Never once did Kokoro stray from the trail or show any indecision. When they topped the crater, the horse stopped and looked down at his new home, the Double ‘P’ Ranch.
Peter had been working all morning. At the moment he was busy holding down a calf. All of a sudden he stood up and gazed toward the volcano. Now, I wasn’t there to witness that moment because at this point in the story, I hadn’t yet met Paniolo Pete. But Mrs. Monroe and Paco both swear it happened, so that makes it gospel to me.
When they had descended the slopes and Kokoro walked into the corral area, a hush fell over the entire ranch. If you’ve ever been around a cattle ranch you’ll know there’s always noise, especially during wean-off time when the calves are separated from their mothers. But on this day, for that one brief moment in time, all of nature seemed to respect the first meeting between Pete and Kokoro.
“Hello mother. Did you have a pleasant ride?” Pete asked calmly. But his mother was still rather bewildered by the day’s events, and this last display left her in deep thought. It was a few moments before she replied.
“Why yes, son. Thank you. This is Kokoro, and although I think no man will ever really own him, he is your horse. He is an Asian war horse and was brought here from Japan. Other than that, I know very little about him. If I didn’t know better, I would say this horse has waited his whole life for you. Is that possible? Today has been a very unusual day indeed.”
Pete walked over to the beautiful animal and laid a hand on his neck. The horse nipped playfully at his hat and with that small display of affection their future together was sealed.
“Well boy, I imagine we had better try to earn our keep around here. We can get acquainted later. Let me get you saddled and you can give me a hand weaning off this herd.”
Mrs. Monroe thought about telling Pete that Kokoro had never been ridden, but after all the strange events of the day, she decided to keep quiet and see what happened. Even as she was contemplating this thought, Pete had already put a blanket on the horse and was throwing on his saddle. Next thing you know, he had swung himself up on the horse and was trotting toward the corral gate. Paco opened the gate and Pete and Kokoro rode inside. It was as if that horse had been working cattle his whole life by the way he began cutting calves out of the herd.
What I’m sayin’ is, Kokoro was a true cow pony if I’ve ever seen one. Pete would cut the reins lightly and the horse would turn. He tapped with his foot and the horse side-stepped. Once a calf was roped, the horse would keep just the right amount of tension on the line. And when Pete was finished checking a calf for scours and pink-eye, Kokoro stepped forward to release the rope. Even an irate cow wouldn’t come very close after a few snorts and pawing from that horse. That Kokoro was born from a bloodline of fierce Asian war horses would become evident on more than one occasion.