by Bowes, K T
Phoenix knitted her brow and sulked, her bottom lip shooting out. “Wiri do it.”
“Wiri’s bigger,” Hana said, dropping the last of the pegs back into the basket. “Jumping with two feet is the sign of a big girl,” she encouraged her daughter.
“Wiri do it,” Phoenix said again and Hana turned from the washing line with a look of confusion.
“My feet hurt,” the little boy said, his face dirty and sad. “I can’t do jumping now.”
Hana gaped at the sight of the dishevelled visitor, the knees of his jeans ripped and flapping in the breeze and the edges of his feet smeared with brown clay and blood. “Wiri! What are you doing here? Where’s Mummy?” Hana asked, unable to hide the shock in her face.
“She’s crying,” the child said, his tone heavy. “She’s scaring me.”
“Beedin’!” Phoenix squealed in horror and gulped back a wail. “Wiri beedin’ feets! Oh no!”
“It’s fine, we’ll deal with it.” Hana injected confidence into her voice and with a smile, lifted the child onto her hip. She abandoned the washing basket and worked her way around the deck, Wiri clipped around her body like a peg and Phoenix bobbing next to her, looking up at her friend with concern. They kicked their boots off in the garage and Hana took her charges through to the kitchen and sat the small boy on the centre island. Then she surveyed the damage.
The boy’s grey eyes were listless and sad and a heaviness hung over him like a veil. His body language was one of defeat and resignation and he shivered uncontrollably.
“How did you get so many cuts?” Hana asked and tenderly smoothed the dark wavy hair away from his forehead to examine a growing bruise.
“Kept falling,” he said, without emotion. “It’s a long way.”
“Does Mummy know you’re here?”
A shake of the tousled head and Hana smiled, keeping the anxiety at bay for now, not wanting to make him fearful of trusting her. “I’ll just let her know and then I think the best thing for you would be a nice hot bath to warm you up and let me see where the damage is.”
“Baff!” Phoenix squealed with excitement and Hana stopped her with a raised hand as her daughter’s tee shirt flew across the kitchen and she attacked her leggings with eager fingers.
“No babe. Wiri’s hurt. He needs to go in by himself.”
“Oh.” Phoenix saddened straight away.
“Would it be ok if Phoe came in the bathroom with you?” Hana asked the child, respecting his privacy. “But not in the bath.”
Wiri nodded and looked as though he didn’t much care. “I’m not going home though,” he said with determination. “I’m living here now.”
Hana used an intermittent signal on her cell phone to text Logan and tell him Wiri was with her, in case they were looking for him.
‘Didn’t know he was missing! Nev’s gone home to check what’s going on,’ came the reply.
The child’s body was as damaged as his clothes. His knees bore decent scrapes and a cut on his hip yielded a spiteful splinter. He made no complaint as Hana pulled it out with a pair of tweezers but Phoenix winced and gripped the side of the bath with fingers white from the effort. The water stung the cuts but the child didn’t cry or make a fuss. The foamy bubbles soothed and the herbal horse chestnut acted as an antiseptic and a balm. “Nonie Leslie made this bubble bath.” Hana chattered as she kneeled on the floor, one of Wiri’s feet in her hands as she examined the injured skin. “She gave me a panipani for this exact thing, made from native leaves.”
The child nodded and Hana stopped wasting her breath, knowing with a sad realisation that she couldn’t comfort him. Instead she massaged the muck from his toes and the balls of his small feet and tried to infuse him with love. She remained silent as he lay back so she could wash the winter filth from his hair and then she pulled the plug and swaddled him in a giant, soft towel. She cradled him snugly and carried his inert, shocked body through to the lounge and lay him on the sofa, placing a gentle kiss on his clean forehead.
He smiled at last. “Thank you, Aunty Hana.”
“You’re welcome, Wiremu. I’ll just go and swill the bath out and then how about I make you both a lovely hot chocolate?”
Wiri nodded and battled to retrieve his arms from the towel and sit up more. Hana put a cartoon on the television to occupy both children and left the room as Phoenix snuggled up to her friend and pulled a throw down over them from the back of the sofa. “I lookin’ after you now,” she informed him with authority and made her body so small she was able to tuck herself between his hip and the back of the sofa. Then she laid down and put her head on his chest, drawing comfort as much as she gave it.
Hana cleaned the bath and then inspected Wiri’s ruined clothing. Had they been Phoe’s she would have thrown them away, but it wasn’t her decision to make. What is going on? Why would Anahera let him leave without raising the alarm? And why did he have no shoes or coat against the cold?
Without a ready answer, Hana set the washing machine going with a load of dark clothing which included Wiri’s. She produced the promised drinks and the children settled on the floor at the coffee table to drink them, happy with the bowl of naughty sugary snacks and crisps that each received with a look of gratitude, their thanks muffled by eager mouthfuls. While the children vegetated in front of endless reruns of SpongeBob SquarePants, Hana hung out the washing in the watery winter sunshine and clattered around lighting the big fire in the lounge.
The men arrived a few hours later, pulling onto the driveway as Hana retrieved the washing from the line. Logan’s expression was casual as he swaggered over to his wife and took the heavy basket from her, but his brother’s was not. “I’m sorry about this, Hana,” he said, agony in his eyes. He ran a hand over his face and Hana heard the bristles against his palm. “Ana’s losing the plot. She’s not making any sense.”
“It’s fine.” Hana reached out and touched her brother-in-law’s writhing fingers and saw Logan’s narrowed look from the corner of her eye. “He’s a bit cut up. It looks like he fell a few times and picked fights with fence posts. But he’s ok. There’s no serious harm.”
“But how the hell did he manage to walk all the way from our place to here?” Nev raged, his anxiety driving his body into jerky, uncontrolled movements. “He could have got lost in the bush or anything! Stupid boy!”
“It’s in his blood,” Hana said with wisdom. “He’s a Du Rose. But he’s upset, Nev. If you go raging in there like this, you’ll make it worse. I don’t know what’s happened or why he’s run, but being angry won’t help.” Hana placed herself in front of the garage door, effectively barring entry to the furious man. She saw Logan smirk and look away, cuddling the laden washing basket awkwardly.
Nev postured and his grey eyes flashed with danger. Hana stood her ground.
“Hana,” Logan said and she looked at her husband. He raised his eyebrows at her, warning her not to get involved in another man’s business but she disobeyed, gritting her teeth and remaining in place. Logan placed the basket on the ground with precise movements and then looked at her with a pointed mix of admiration and interest.
“I want to see my son!” Nev blasted at her, his breath ruffling Hana’s fringe and Logan took a step towards him.
“I’m not stopping you,” Hana replied, not moving an inch.
“I’m taking him!” Nev leaned closer and Hana didn’t flinch.
“He’s naked. I’ve washed his clothes but they’re badly ripped. Have you brought some others for him to wear?”
Nev gulped and Hana knew he’d been home but not given it a thought. Guilt dulled the gritty grey eyes and Nev worked his jaw. “No, I didn’t.”
Hana’s expression softened at the formidable man a few inches from her face. “Nev, I’m not telling you how to raise your child, but Wiremu’s frightened of something. I’m not stopping you from seeing your boy or taking him home, but he’s calm now. Lose the anger and then I’ll let you in.”
Logan gave a he
arty smirk and rolled his eyes, his body tensed to defend his wife if Nev became any more of a threat. He shook his head at the nerve of his fearsome wife and bit back a snort. But Hana had guessed right and Nev shared the tenderness of his mother, Antoinette and only the looks of Reuben Du Rose. The violence of the Du Rose males had missed him out and the gentle giant buckled under Hana’s astute study. “Is he ok?” he whispered.
Hana nodded and smiled. “He’s in the lounge watching TV. Come on.” She jerked her head and kicked off her boots. Logan retrieved the washing basket and left it on the garage floor as the men trooped down the hallway behind her in their socks.
The children lay entwined on the sofa, the woolly throw pushed off onto the floor. Cartoon characters squawked at their own antics in the corner but their audience slept soundly. Both sucked their thumbs, Wiri still shrouded in his towel, his hair fluffy and damp near his skin. Phoenix had squished herself between him and the back of the sofa and her nose was pushed up against Wiri’s shoulder, a line of dribble glistening against his bare skin. They looked peaceful, the strain finally absent from the little boy’s face. His feet poked out of the bottom of the towel, the skin raw and painful from prolonged contact with rocks and bush material and Nev winced.
In silence, the men followed Hana to the kitchen and she clattered around with the kettle, making tea. Logan pulled himself water from the cold tap but Nev slumped at the table in defeat. “Sorry,” he said, sounding ashamed as Hana laid the steaming mug in front of him and placed the sugar bowl and a spoon within reach. “I’m just a farmer. I can’t do all this emotional stuff. I wasn’t raised that way.”
“What’s going on?” she asked, her voice soft and enticing.
Nev shook his head. “I dunno. I’ve been trying not to see, I guess. Something’s been wrong for months, since just before we moved into the new place. I thought it was what she wanted, us to stay here and farm. She says it is, but then she’s so depressed all the time.”
“It’s been a harrowing couple of years,” Hana ventured and Nev nodded with enthusiasm.
“Yeah. Losing my matua was...horrific. I thought we’d never get over that. But this fresh start, it was meant to make it all right. I dunno what’s gone wrong.”
Logan slumped down into the chair next to Hana and sniffed. She stifled a smile at the ready tell, which told her that talk of emotional issues was making him uncomfortable. He reached for her hand under the table and squeezed her fingers, seeking an unknown reassurance. Hana squeezed back and saw him receive whatever it was he sought. His grey eyes relaxed and lost their stormy hue, his fingers caressing hers with a heady seduction. “Would Ana talk to Dr Seuli?” Hana asked and Nev shrugged.
Then he looked up and a flicker of hope lit his face. “Would you ask her? She might listen to you.”
Logan’s jaw worked and his fingers clamped harder over Hana’s. She knew he didn’t want her to get involved. For once, she respected his wishes. “I can’t just rock up and tell her to go and get help,” Hana said, trying not to sound dismissive. “It would be rude. It definitely wouldn’t encourage her to trust me.”
Nev’s shoulders slumped. “But she’s not listening to me,” he said. The man shrank before their eyes, receding in stature and presence and shocking Logan, whose love for his half-brother reared itself unexpectedly.
“Why don’t you leave Wiri here?” Logan suggested, surprising his wife. “Just for tonight. Maybe Hana could take him home tomorrow and assess what’s going on.”
Nev’s gratitude felt painful to the others as it oozed from him as relief and the sense of a burden shared. “Thanks!” he gushed, his eyes sparkling bright with unshed tears. “That’ll really help.”
The tall Māori kissed his small son tenderly on his scratched forehead and left, heading home with reluctance, to a situation way out of his control. Logan made dinner while Hana sat at the kitchen table and darned the many holes in Wiremu’s clothing. “I think I’ll patch the knees,” Hana mused, fitting different sized squares of material over the tears. She held up two pieces of light denim from her work basket. “What do you think to these?” she asked Logan. “They’re from that shirt of Tama’s that he wanted the sleeves cut off.”
Logan shrugged. “I guess so. They’ve only got to last until he gets home tomorrow. Why bother?”
“I don’t want him to put the same clothes on in the morning and be reminded,” Hana sighed and Logan smiled as he mashed the fluffy potatoes.
“You’re gorgeous,” he said.
Hana pressed the lighter material over the first rip and slipped the needle through the double helping of tough fabric. “I’ll stitch it on the outside and then let the edges fray a little. It’ll look trendy then.”
“It took balls to stand up to my brother like that,” Logan said, his voice low and expressionless. Hana felt the veiled warning cross the room in a black wave.
“I don’t think so,” she replied.
Logan turned sharply. “Kane would have given you a slap for that.”
“Nev’s not Kane,” Hana replied with confidence. “And anyway, you were standing right there. I felt perfectly safe. You exuded enough threat and menace for the both of us.”
Logan turned back to the potatoes with a shake of his head, knowing he would never understand his wife as long as he lived.
Wiremu ate well, coached by Phoenix, who mothered him without shame. He slept in one of Tama’s tee shirts, the hem reaching almost to his ankles. The child rejected the spare bed, opting instead to sleep with his hero and he lay passively in the double bed while Hana spread the panipani onto his feet with care.
Tama crawled into bed later and tried not to disturb the child. Hana popped her head around the door and asked him if he was ok. Tama nodded. “Yeah, I’m just thinking about how different my life has become in the last two years.” His mind strayed to memories of huddling in a bed with pilled and ripped elderly sheets, a tiny Wiremu clinging to his teenage frame while Nev tried to protect the rest of the family from a drunken, brawling Kane. “I forget how hard it was being brought up on the other side of the family. Nev and Anahera had it real hard. Having Wiri here reminded me.”
Hana made her way over to the bed in the darkness and pressed her lips to Tama’s forehead. “Love you, babe,” she whispered.
“That was my eye!” he complained, but Hana heard the smile in his voice.
“Liar! Oh my goodness! Who’s this?”
Tama snorted as Hana’s groping fingers touched another hot little body, contacting a fluffy head resting against Tama’s shoulder. “That’s why I had to get in the middle,” he hissed. A grunt from the Wiri and the rustle of a nappy, identified his other bed partner. Tama stifled a squeal as a pair of cold bare feet with twinkling toes, pushed their way underneath his thighs.
“Gosh I’m sorry. Do you want me to take her out?” Hana asked and heard Tama shake his head, his hair swishing against the pillow. He smiled with contentment and sleep claimed him, as the children cuddled deeper against their favourite adopted brother.
Chapter 34
“What’s she doing here? Oh yeah, that’s right, she owns everything now, doesn’t she? Happy Mrs Du Rose? Would you like to look around, maybe move your stuff in?”
“Asher, stop!” his mother pleaded. She sat on the sofa with her head in her hands. “You have to stop this. I can’t take any more. Please?” Anahera looked frighteningly fragile and tears welled up in her beautiful brown eyes. Her eyes seemed massive in her face, the weight dropping off her even as she sat there.
Hana felt a stab of fear in her heart, acknowledging the very real possibility that the woman might be desperately ill. She fought the urge to make a biting remark at the arrogant Du Rose male in front of her but only for Anahera’s sake. Wiri looked anxious and gripped Phoenix’s hand as she stood next to him. She sucked her thumb and stared watchfully in that intense way she had, missing absolutely nothing but not understanding either. Hana felt sure the child possessed an inc
redible filing system in her brain which stored data for future reference. It was exactly what Logan did. He was a mine of information.
Hana took a deep breath and stepped into the role of peacemaker. “I’m sorry you don’t like me, Asher. But your mother’s obviously not well. Can’t we just agree to disagree for her sake?”
“For her sake!” he exclaimed and Hana realised with dismay she had only inflamed the situation. “When have you and that jerk husband ever done anything for our sake?” He said Logan’s name and swore viciously and Hana’s redheaded temper flared. She struggled visibly, her green eyes flashing. Asher put the boot in, turning his spite on the innocent. “What are you lookin’ at?”
Undaunted, Phoenix stared the young man down, only her lips moving gently against her thumb. Sensing danger to his friend, Wiri gripped her hand tighter and turned his beautiful face towards Hana’s daughter, whispering confidentially. “Phoe, d’ya wanna see my cars?”
The little girl turned to him wide-eyed and nodded. Then she glanced at her mother and Hana managed to nod once.
“No way!” Asher hadn’t finished. “We don’t need you snooping around our place.”
“Snooping?” Hana couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
“Yeah, snooping!” Asher’s grey eyes flashed with a latent danger that was instantly more threatening. Something behind his eyes appeared unhinged and reminded Hana of Kane Du Rose. Hana looked across at Anahera, who watched her with an undisguised sense of fear. Hana didn’t know what to say. She fixed her eyes on her daughter’s dress as she swished down a long hallway to Wiri’s bedroom. The little boy hadn’t once let go of Phoenix’s hand.
Anahera got unstably to her feet. “Asher, you’re being ridiculous. Don’t you understand that Reuben lost everything? We had nothing left. Logan bought your dad out and gave him a job and us a home. Why can’t you accept that?”
Asher shook his handsome dark head violently. “Lies. All lies. The developers offered Dad millions for the land. Logan didn’t pay half that. They offered us a fortune and Dad turned it down. He wanted to keep it in the family. He sold out and we got nothing.”