Coconut fronds rustled. Then thud, on the ground. Not the hollow ring of a nut, but a solid and heavy thud... Followed by footfalls across the moonlit lawn, and breathing, until I began to feel uncertain about the presence outside my loft window, ten feet from the ground. Beyond my pounding heart, too near a distance, with only screen and ratwire between, I find myself breathlessly facing a creaature. It audibly breathes the smell of the reef at low tide. Its dragon like face is huge and fearsome, with what looks like a shaggy mane of wet hair growing down its back. Bat like wings are folded at its sides as it stands, so tall, looking right at me with huge almond shaped eyes, faintly glowing red. When I looked into those eyes it seemed my thoughts were known. I was afraid and turned on my bedside light, thinking it would go away. It didn't. Only now I cannot see out and the creature, who is still there, can probably see me even better. So, mustering all mmy courage to even move, I click my light back off again. There he still stands, (I think of it as a he now) watching me, softly breathing his briny breath. For so long he stays, breathing, not moving, he almost seems to be asleep, but for those eyes, staring into me, only occasionally blinking slowly. I do not sleep, but sit crouched on my bed, motionless, watching in terrified wonder. I sense by his stillness and his slow blinks and his quietness that he does not want me to fear him as he means me no harm. I feel that he wants me to know him or he wants to know me, for some reason. I learned this from his eyes. Suddenly, after what seemed like hours, he turns from me and walks heavily away, beyond my sight. Then I hear running feet on the road and the slapping sound of large flapping wings and I am left in wonderful terror and the lingering scent of the sea. I don't remember how I fell to sleep after that, only that I woke with the vivid memory of my unusual visitor. I went outside and looked in the places where he walked. I did see some debris beneath the coconut palm he came from, and some interesting impressions on the ground. I wondered why my dogs never barked. I could not stop thinking about him and was not sure how to tell my parents or brothers. I thought for sure they would not beliebve me. I climbed onto the roof from the big banyan tree that hangs over our house. I sat up there nearly all day, scanning the sky and the edges of the jungle for a glimpse of the creature I saw that night. It seems sort of strange, but I was actually worried about him. I was afraid that someone else who might encounter him would try to injure or kill him. I just wanted to see him again so I could somehow be sure about everything. I finally told my mother about my experience when she began questioning me about why I was on the roof for so long and why I seemed so troubled. She believed me. She believes in things like that. But I never did see him again that day or since. Maybe sometime I will. And even though I trembled so at his presence, I wouldn't mind seeing him again; only next time I will know him.

(as told to Marisa DeWees by Julian DeWees, age 8)

(Tuiatua is a creature of Samoan legend, the king of earth and sky and sea. He is high chief among the ghosts who walk this island.)