Huia Short Stories 11 (4 page)

We had enough money left over to pay the milkman on our way home, and for the next two days' bus fare. I would be paid on Friday. The mortgage would go out automatically as usual, and now, so would the money for the crèche, the power and the telephone. And I'd increased the money I'd been putting away, squirrelling in secret, hoarding and stashing in the ASB. since Sammy had been born. The police were helpful, so was the lawyer they sent me to. So we had all that we needed that day when we left town.

We made one more stop at the chemist's. The
Help wanted
sign had been removed. And father bear had fallen off his chair and lay face down on the floor. Then we shared a milkshake at the Bon-Ton dairy. We said cheers to one another. By the time we were ready to go home, the clouds had lifted. And the sun had come out of where it had been hiding for most of the morning. I took my scarf off and undid the coat buttons. ‘Mine too please Mum,' Sammy said.

Despite the heavy load I carried, and in spite of the uncertainty of what might be waiting for us, a tingle of joy from deep inside my stomach made me feel as if…if I wanted to, I could fly. We held hands, squeezed four, squeezed three, squeezed two, and squeezed one. And never let go. Far away over the purple hills, where the harbour was, a 747 jet plane climbed higher and higher into the western sky. And beneath that sky we walked towards our home. Beneath that cheerful sky, we walked home. Squeeze four, squeeze three, squeeze two, squeeze one – and never let go.

Squeeze one.

As Taiki awoke, he lifted his head and looked around the wharenui. Finally the carvings spoke to him in his dreams giving him the inspiration he so much needed. He got up and walked straight towards the post in the centre of the room. The figure at the base was carved in memory of the lost navigator Ave. With two faces and four eyes, he was always peering to the four winds. The features were understated, like all of the carvings, but every Rakahanga knew it was Ave regardless.

Taiki put his hands on its shoulders, leant forward and pressed his nose to that of the carving, inhaling through the nostrils to share the universal breath. For the first time in months a smile spread across his face. He stepped back and looked up towards the roof. He was unable to see it but he knew at the top of the same post was the carved figure representing Arepuni, their beloved chief, also peering out over Rakahanga and all their tribe. He nodded in humble recognition, then turned away and walked towards the ring of carved posts. One by one he made his way around the room, greeting the rest in the same way.

Never before at Rakahanga had such a unique and so large a whare been built. In the absence of any physical remains after the cyclone that took the lives of Arepuni, Ave and the devoted crew, symbolic funeral rites were performed here. Items belonging to each of the missed tribal members were brought here and placed at the base of the respective carvings, but sadly, as time went by and each family's whare was rebuilt, these items found their way back to the various family homes. Nothing of significance took place here any more. It was more of a memorial than anything else.

After completing the rounds, Taiki returned to Haani. She'd been tossing and turning for a while now. He couldn't bear seeing her in so much pain, so he knelt beside her.

‘Wake up,' he said. Suddenly she sat up and looked around the room. Her gaze stopped on the centre post, the carving representing the navigator.

‘Did they speak to you during the night?' he asked. At first she said nothing, before finally reaching for a hand up.

‘Let's get out of here,' she said. ‘There's too much chatter in here.'

Outside the wharenui, Taiki and Haani were greeted by blue sky from one horizon to the other. Down on the beach they could see the men about to begin the last part of their daily mau rākau training; a swim across the Rakahanga lagoon and back. Taiki smiled as the memories came flooding back. In recent months he'd stopped training, but every time he watched them the desire swelled inside. Even from this distance he could see the same enthusiasm in the men as they dived in. The lagoon looked tame and inviting, until you attempted to swim to any of the opposite shores. If you weren't a good swimmer, you'd better know which way to swim to make it safely to shore. Luckily, life on Rakahanga moved in tune with the tides. Everyone knew the ocean's rhythms.

After watching the men reach the opposite shore, Taiki and Haani didn't wait to see their return. Instead they headed off down the beach along the lagoon side of the island, making their way to Punariku Marae, unsure what sort of reception they would get today.

As usual, they were met by a large group of ecstatic children. Hoping for a repeat of yesterday, No'o pushed his way to the front. His first mau rākau training was behind him and he was glowing with joy, desperate to tell his chief.

‘Kia orana, No'o. I thought you began training today. Why aren't you swimming across the lagoon with the rest?' asked Taiki, fully aware boys were exempt during their first two years. Until they instinctively knew the tide's rhythms, it was far too dangerous.

‘Lift me up and I'll tell you!' he answered.

Taiki obliged. No'o leaned forward and whispered in his ear.

‘Tangaroa said I have to practise paddling my waka ama, and you're it!'

He began laughing as he wrapped his arms around Taiki's head and tried to wrestle him in to the water. It ended like it did the day before.

The fun with the children continued for a while, before a long loud blast from a pūtātara horn sounded across the lagoon. The children were in no hurry for breakfast, so Taiki broke free from their clutches, swam straight across the narrow channel and ran up the beach towards Punariku. He knew the children would only stop playing once food was in sight. They all piled into a couple of waka ama and paddled across in pursuit, tracking him down in the marae. His plan worked like a charm. Soon they were sitting with their parents, eating and giggling and pointing at their chief.

Most of the adults were waiting in complete silence, still upset from the previous night. Their sadness and anger would take days, if not weeks to fade. They greeted Taiki respectfully but didn't raise their eyes. A few managed a smile, but it was forced.

Taiki would've liked to sit near his people to reduce the separation, but there was an awkwardness in the air that couldn't be ignored. Haani took the inititative and led him towards the paepae, where they would be left alone. She wanted to talk with him as soon as possible. Once they were seated, Taiki recited a karakia to Tangaroa, blessing the food in front of them. Finally the tribe could begin their meal.

Haani wasted no time asking what Taiki had dreamt about. Lately when she asked him this, it made him cringe, sometimes inducing near panic, but he obliged once more. There was a message in there somewhere.

‘I dreamt about the crew again. They are standing on the beach of a huge island, an island bigger than anything I have ever seen before. It's maybe a thousand times bigger than all of the Rakahanga islands put together, including the lagoon. Behind the beach are rugged steep cliffs leading up to a forest, itself leading up to a huge white mountain shaped like a perfect triangle. It towers in to the sky, but with smoke and fire bursting from the top.'

Having never seen a mountain, a forest or cliffs before, Haani would have liked to ask a number of questions. What interested her more, though, was the fire and smoke. It was a terrifying thought.

‘Why is a mountain burning?' asked Haani.

‘I have no idea. Why would a mountain be white also?'

She couldn't possibly answer his question, so pressed further. ‘What does the island look like?'

‘The island stretches from north to south as far as the eye can see, and is completely covered in trees. The forest even stretches to the island's centre on the eastern horizon. There I could see three more huge white mountains, also with fire and smoke bursting out of the top. The trees are full of birds singing so loud I couldn't hear what the crew were saying. They were waving and calling out but I couldn't understand them. They looked so scared, it hurts.'

Haani listened with interest, comparing the dream with her own. They were eerily similar.

‘In my dream,' she began, ‘they're on the waka taurua, sailing towards a big island in rough seas. I can see something white in the background, which sounds like the descriptions of a mountain. The crew are overjoyed, but then suddenly my dream switches. The waka taurua is smashed to pieces, just wreckage floating on the surface of the ocean.'

‘Did they make it to shore?' Taiki asked.

‘They must have. They're on shore standing in line and waving at me, but I don't know if they are waving for help, or waving me away.'

‘How many are there?' he asked. Haani closed her eyes briefly and thought for a moment.

‘Eight, but one is a child. Is it possible there's a child with them?'

Doom crept over Taiki's face as he thought about Inewehi. His appetite was suddenly gone. He pushed the bowl of food away and stood up.

‘You know where I am if anyone needs me.'

Haani watched as he walked off, certain he was going to the wharenui.

As Taiki walked along the beach trying to make sense of his dreams, he paused and looked across the Rakahanga lagoon to the islands on the northern end. These islands they called home were miniscule, so flat there were no points of land higher than the top of even the smallest coconut palm. There were no rivers, no hills, no waterfalls and no mountains. If he hadn't been to the island of Tumu-te-varovaro as a young man, he wouldn't believe such things existed anywhere. Nevertheless, even though he'd been lucky enough to experience these things in person, the sheer magnitude of the mountain in his dream placed it firmly in the realm of fantasy. A mountain coloured pure white, like the inside of a coconut, just made no sense.

Ignoring the mountain in his dream for a moment, Taiki thought about the island at its base instead. Its dimensions were inconceivable to anyone from the smaller Rakahanga islands. Here, any man could swim across the lagoon and back without trouble, even if he swum the longest stretch from north to south. A boy could paddle a waka ama around all of the six islands that surrounded Rakahanga Lagoon in half a day, as long as he stayed within the reef. Even a child could run from where Taiki was standing now to the ocean side of the island and back, with five breaths.

What they called home was in fact a tiny collection of puny islands in the midst of Moana-roa. If this island in his dream, which the navigators called Avaiki-tautau, really did exist, it certainly justified the journey Arepuni undertook.

Unfortunately, as soon as he thought about the crew, the part of his dream that disturbed him more than fascinated him reappeared. A child was with them.

Full of guilt, he shook his head and continued on.

As Taiki arrived out front of the wharenui, his eyes were drawn to the carved figure atop the central post, carved in memory of Arepuni and his peaceful nature, his most admirable quality. Daily it inspired Taiki to lead the way he did. He wondered whether Arepuni would be proud of him if he was still alive. He took a long deep breath and made his way through the door.

Lately, his daily routine was to come here and sit with his back against the poutokomanawa and let the carvings speak to him in dreams. It often helped, but not always. Sometimes the guilt was unbearable, and he chose to reminisce about the construction of the wharenui. It was the first thing built after the cyclone twenty years ago, as an emergency measure for the twelve families that survived. With everyone's help, the carvers finished it in less than two days. Initially they just stood the posts and completed the roof. This served as shelter until each family's new whare was built, waka ama were constructed and gardens replanted. Slowly life returned to normality. It was accepted that Arepuni and his crew were never returning, but instead of pulling the wharenui down, it was immortalised in ceremony as a sacred place, and improved. Carvings representing each crew member were erected, intricate woven wall panels depicting family trees were mounted, and the entire wharenui was renamed. It was officially blessed by the elders six months after the cyclone, a memorial to the lost crew and their navigator and the chief. Nowadays for Taiki it embodied the lies and deceit he maintained to protect his people from the truth.

Trying to shake the negativity from his mind, Taiki went to greet each of the twelve carvings. Slowly he ran his fingers over the patterns and designs, reciting the whakapapa of each under his breath. While his nose was pressed to the carving, he inhaled deeply and opened his heart, mind and third eye. Once he'd greeted them all, he sat with his back to the poutokomanawa, wrapped himself in his cloak, closed his eyes and let himself slip into the dream state, looking for answers.

Still over at Te Kāinga, Haani had found herself a tranquil and shaded spot to sit and finish the fan she was weaving. She was on the dunes near Punariku, sitting with her back against a coconut palm, facing out into the centre of the lagoon, quietly watching the people around the marae. A short distance away, a group of adults had gathered on the beach, talking amongst themselves. The discussion was out of earshot, but was animated enough for her to know it was about last night. She chose to stay out. Even the children running around playing knew to keep their distance. One little boy, however, sprinted over to Haani, throwing himself down beside her, grabbing her arm.

‘Kia orana, No'o,' she said. ‘What are you doing? If you're trying to help me weave, that's not the best way.'

He looked at her sideways, but then turned and looked down the beach at the group of adults.

‘They're going to be mean to you, but you're too old so I'll protect you.'

Haani cast a brief glance at them and smiled.

‘Well, you're a brave young boy. Do you think you can beat them after just one training session of mau rākau?'

‘I'm not scared!' he said. ‘I'm going to be like Taiki one day. He's not scared of anything and I'm not either. Shall I show you some of the moves I learnt today?'

Before she could reply, No'o jumped up, ran off and came back with a long stick in his hands. He stood in the traditional stance directly in front of her and pointed it at the group. With his eyes open wide, he thrust his tongue out in defiance, and began jumping up and down from one leg to the other. Suddenly he began moving forward, twirling the stick in front of his body, ready to strike anyone that moved. By now he had everyone's attention. Haani smiled, trying hard not to laugh.

‘Come here boy,' she said.

He ignored her, so she threw sand at his legs and called him by name. Maintaining his gaze on the people down the beach, and with his stick gripped tightly across his body, he began moving backwards, but continued to thrust his tongue out in defiance.

‘Sit down here boy. You'll be a good warrior one day, but let me tell you some things about Taiki you don't know.'

‘What's that?' No'o asked, as he sat down.

‘Well, I can see you know Taiki's mastered the fighting arts of mau rākau, and if you keep up your training, you will too.'

She put her fingers around his biceps and gave them a little squeeze.

‘And you're very strong too.'