Before he ended his speech, and before the toast that he was to give, Chappy said that he never wanted his presence to disturb anyone, not this cousin Noddy nor any other member of the family, not any person of the town nor anyone at all.

This incident was talked about over the weekend. People spoke of Noddy, who screamed and rampaged at night, who in frenzies of digging made holes where holes were not wanted and sometimes hid himself inside them, who wandered off in any direction in any weather, who cried and scratched deep marks across his chest – but who always allowed us to calm him and bring him home. This was the first time we had known him to try and hurt (maybe kill) another person. We would make sure it never happened again. There were enough of us to see to it.

Noddy had been given back to the family after the war. He was someone whose past life and work would not be forgotten and whose presence would be a reminder of what can go on in the world. People wanted to reassure Oriwia and her husband that when Chappy returned there would be nothing to fear. He would not be harmed, and neither would his family.

A year later, Chappy came back for the marriage of daughter Daphne. When it was time for him to return to Hawai‘i and all the relatives were gathered to farewell him, Paa spoke about the time when Chappy would come home for good.

He began by speaking about my mother – his daughter Dorothea – and her two brothers. Though Dorothea and her husband Taana had raised their family on the land, her two brothers had become officials of the Mormon church. They married in America and were now living with their families in Salt Lake City. He spoke about each of them.

He also spoke of children he and Nunu had fostered for a time. They’d come and gone. Sometimes they would return to visit. He remembered all of them and spoke about each one.

Because of the length of time Paa was taking, and because he was explaining all in detail, people knew that he had an important message he wanted to impart. No one was sure what he was getting at until he began speaking directly to Chappy.

‘You are our true son,’ he said. ‘In taking you as our son, we had the agreement of everyone. Your sister agreed that you should be her brother. Your cousins and elders all agreed that you would be our whāngai to whom we would all have obligations. They understood you would be treated the same as children born to us. You would inherit land in the same way on behalf of your children. War and separation cannot change that. Your children are our grandchildren and that will never be different.’