by Steph Matuku
The grass around Dad withers, turning from bright green to grey. Slowly the grey moves closer and closer to his feet, and as if he’s been jerked awake, he leaps back and yells, ‘Tāwhirimatea!’
Tāwhirimatea glides through the sky toward us, a big grin on his face. He rubs his fingers together, lightning sparks, and he hurls a white bolt down at Hinekōruru, who moves even faster, wreathing herself in shadow. The lightning hits a tree, and it explodes into a fiery column. Sparks fall around us like rain. One lands on Mum’s dress. She yelps as the fabric catches alight and beats at the flames with her hands until it goes out.
‘Making allies with more gods?’ Hinekōruru snarls, and I shiver at the rage in her voice. ‘Aren’t you ambitious?’
She beckons to the shadows cast by the flaming tree, and they whirl together to form a massive black owl. The owl unfurls wings that look like smoke, and swoops up to attack. Tāwhirimatea throws up his hands as the bird rakes at his face with beak and talons. Thunder rolls and Tāwhirimatea rolls with it, lightning blasting in all directions, the roiling sky alive with chaos.
‘You used my teachings to pass between worlds,’ Hinekōruru screams at Dad, and even though the thunder is deafening, we can still hear every word. ‘You used me.’
‘All I wanted was my wife!’ Dad shouts. ‘And don’t you forget, you wouldn’t even exist without me!’
Good one, Dad, I think, rolling my eyes. The one line every woman wants to hear.
‘Come on!’ Mum hisses.
Hinekōruru and Dad are focused on each other. There’s no better time to make our escape. Mum, Kae and I make a sprint for it. The grain stalks in the fields have been laid almost flat by the winds howling across the gardens, and every now and then an explosion ripples the ground, threatening to topple us sideways. I risk a glance up. High above us, clouds swirl in a circle like the portal into Rarohenga, and then suddenly a tornado drops from the sky and lands in the next field. It weaves haphazardly in our direction, ripping up trees and the clockwork gardening machines and grain and dirt, sending debris flying in all directions.
I’m falling behind, but Kae is there, and he urges me on. We’re scrambling for our lives, and it’s weird, you know: all I can think of is that I really wish I was fitter, and maybe if we ever get back home, I might see if I can join a gym or something.
Funny what you think of when you’re about to die.
TUIKAE
Finally we reach the hills. Tui is seriously stuffed, and her face has gone this weird hummus colour, so we stop in the shadow of an overhanging rock to catch our breath.
It doesn’t look as though Hine-what’s-her-face is calming down any time soon; she’s set two of those owls on Tāwhirimatea now, and he’s blasting what looks like massive hailstones in her direction. All that food in the fields gone – poof! – just like that, and I wonder if the dead people will even mind. Like, do they even need to eat, or is it just a habit? I guess I would have found out if Tui had let me stay. But she was right to bring Mum back; I know that. I just can’t help thinking my idea might have worked.
I move away from where Mum and Tui are hugging and crying, and stare out over the fields toward the city.
‘We’re always leaving him.’ I say it quietly, but they still hear me.
Mum places a hand on my shoulder. ‘He’ll always be your dad, son, whether you’re with him or not. And you can’t stay here. You don’t belong. Rarohenga will steal your mind if you try. Your dad is proof of that.’ She smiles at the two of us. ‘You found me. I can’t believe it.’
‘Because we need you,’ says Tui. I’m gobsmacked, because Tui has never, ever said that she needs Mum for anything. Tui is always going her own way and doing her own thing. Watching her admit that she needs anyone else is a Monumental Moment. I wish I had my phone so I could record it.
‘And we love you,’ I say. It’s true. I do love my mum. But I love my dad too. I kick at the ground. ‘I knew he wouldn’t try and stop us from coming. I knew it.’
Neither Mum nor Tui says anything, and we begin the long climb up the hill. We’re all panting and blowing by the time we reach the top.
As we head down the other side, Tui shows Mum the broken red ochre line across the path.
‘That clay has powers,’ Mum says. ‘I don’t know why, but indigenous people all over the world use it for art, and for decoration and for magic and things. It’s special.’
I scrub at it with my foot as we go past. My foot doesn’t feel any more special than it did before, but I’m not so hungry anymore. In fact, I just feel ordinary hungry, not massively starving. My mood lifts immediately.
‘We have to be careful down here,’ Tui says. ‘There’s a cave with a warrior standing guard in front of it.’
Mum’s face lights up. ‘That’s where I came through! It’s a tunnel between the levels.’
‘We came over a river.’ Tui shoots me a warning glance, and I know she doesn’t want me narking on her for deserting me, so I just roll my eyes at her like a taniwha, and she pretends to scratch her cheek using her middle finger.
‘I came out of the cave, and the light was so bright after being so long in the dark. But I managed to get away. I ran, but then …’ Mum frowns. ‘A tree grabbed me. Does that sound right? It seems strange, but that’s what happened. A tree grabbed me and I couldn’t get free. And then your father came and got me.’
I reach into my pocket and bring out the piece of fabric we found. She takes it, and suddenly there are tears in her eyes as she presses it to her mouth. ‘Oh, son.’
I don’t know what she’s crying for, really, but I guess you never really do know with women.
She wipes her eyes on the ripped material. ‘We have to give him a koha.’ For a sec there I think she’s talking about Dad, but then I click that she’s talking about the warrior guard.
‘Not my mere,’ says Tui quickly, and holds it to her chest.
Mum is taken aback. I guess it’s the first time she’s noticed it. ‘Where did you get that?’
Tui gives me another warning look. If she doesn’t want Mum to know about the taniwha, there’s no way she’s going to want her to know that she’s engaged to a random fairy who lives in the bush.
‘I could play him a song,’ I say, changing the subject. Tui owes me for that one. ‘That’s how I got over the river.’
A rumble of thunder echoes overhead, and behind us, further up the hill, a tree withers and crumbles.
‘She’s coming, she’s coming! Oh my God …’ Tui says, in a panic.
‘Goddess,’ I put in, because it’s true.
‘She won’t hurt you. She’s not mad at us; just your dad – which I can fully understand.’ Another tree crumbles, and Mum adds hurriedly, ‘But let’s get out of here, just in case.’
We charge down the hill the rest of the way, our running feet sending little pebbles skittering down the trail. We careen to a halt in front of the guard, who immediately assumes a fighting stance, his taiaha levelled at us. Behind him, the cave is darker than dark, and there’s those whispers seeping out of it; those little sighs that we heard on the way down.
‘We want to go through,’ I say. ‘I have a koha.’ The guard’s eyes narrow, and I show him my ukulele. ‘I can play you a song.’
But I don’t even have time to lift my hand to strum; a whirling ball of shadow flies through the air and strikes the guard full in the chest. His eyes widen, and for an instant he looks completely betrayed.
I blurt out, ‘I didn’t do it!’ just as he crumbles into dust. Little sparkling lights drift upward, and the cave entrance transforms into solid rock. There’s no way through, not anymore. We fall back with groans of disappointment.
‘We’ll have to do the river after all,’ I say. We turn to flee, but it’s too late. Hinekōruru is standing behind us.
TUIKAE
I know she’s not exactly nice, but I can’t help thinking how cool she is, with her long hair flying around and a sardonic smile on her
face. I wish I was more like that: more confident and don’t-care-ish. I try to be like that in my head, but it comes off on the outside like I’m a snob and up myself.
She’s swinging her poi in one hand, and the other is holding a leash attached to a column of swirling black and grey shadows. It’s almost like a net. Every now and then I catch sight of an angry face inside.
Dad’s in there. She beat him after all.
‘Oh, good,’ she says, happily. ‘All together again. Honestly, you modern families. Here, there and everywhere. Especially you,’ she adds, nodding at Mum. Mum snorts as if she’s not bothered at all, but I can tell she’s feeling guilty.
Hinekōruru motions to the shadows with a jerk of her head, and they shrink down, forcing Dad to his knees.
‘You’re going to watch them die,’ she says to Dad. ‘As much as we like to reward our believers, we can’t let your transgressions go unpunished, can we?’
Okay, so I don’t think she’s quite as cool anymore.
‘What the hell?’ shouts Kae. ‘We didn’t do anything. We’re not even from here.’
‘Sssh,’ she says to Kae, without taking her eyes off Dad. She kicks out at him and he grunts, but the shadows have him tied up tight and there’s nothing he can do.
Mum steps in front of us, holding her arms out to keep us back. ‘You can kill me.’ Her voice doesn’t even waver. It’s strong and determined. ‘But don’t hurt them. Just let them go.’
‘No, Mum!’ I don’t want to let her go. I can’t. Not again.
Hinekōruru gives Mum a mock approving look. ‘That’s good parenting!’ She turns to Dad. ‘Isn’t that good parenting? Sacrifice, not selfishness. Oh wait, you wouldn’t know. You’ve never been very good at it, have you?’
‘Go ahead!’ Dad roars. ‘Do it, then. I don’t care. They’ll only float up top, and then I’ll go and get her again and it’ll be like this never even happened.’
I glance at Kae to see how he’s taking this. His ears have gone rosy red. He looks as though he’s been slapped in the face. He pushes in front of Mum and I yank him back, but he brushes me away and the tips of his fingers clip my ear. My hand flies up to my earlobe, but it’s too late. That stupid earring has come loose again and spun away into the grass somewhere. I grind my teeth. On top of everything else, I have to lose my diamond earring as well?
‘What did you say?’ Kae says, belligerent.
Dad doesn’t even seem remotely bothered. ‘You wanted to stay here, didn’t you? Live here with me and your mother? Well, now you can.’
‘Yeah, but I don’t want to die! I don’t want anyone to die!’ Kae shouts. ‘I never wanted that!’ His lips press tight together like they do right before he starts to cry, but this time his eyes are dry. ‘You don’t give a toss about us, do you? You never did.’ He flicks a glance at me. ‘You were right. As always.’
‘I didn’t want to be right about this,’ I say. Because who wants to admit that their own father is rotten to the core?
Hinekōruru gives an exaggerated sigh. ‘Finished with the revelations? Hmmm? Let’s get on with it.’
She starts twirling her poi, building up momentum.
‘Wait!’ I shriek. I’ve just remembered something. It’s a long shot but it’s worth a try. Gosh, anything’s worth a try so long as we’re not turned into dust. ‘We have a choice, don’t we? The tūrehu said that we always have a choice whether or not to come here.’
‘Ugh. Tūrehu,’ Hinekōruru says automatically, but she stops twirling and lowers her arm. ‘Go on.’
She’s not giving much away, but there’s a twinkle in her eye and I know I’m right. I know I’ve found the loophole.
‘Mum didn’t choose to come here,’ I say slowly, thinking it out. ‘She was brought here against her will. So that means her choice was taken away, and she shouldn’t be down here. So … you should let her go.’
Hinekōruru smiles sweetly. ‘Very well, then.’ She points to Mum. ‘Off you go.’
Mum doesn’t move.
‘I don’t actually mind killing you,’ Hinekōruru tells her. ‘If you want to stay, be my guest.’
Mum folds her arms, narrows her eyes. Hinekōruru shrugs and begins that slow, maddening twirl again.
‘Wait!’ I cry.
Hinekōruru gives a long-suffering sort of sigh. ‘What now?’
‘Me and Kae didn’t want to come here either. We had no choice.’
‘Yeah, nah,’ Kae says, brightening. ‘We didn’t.’
The goddess glares at me. ‘Clever little thing, aren’t you? Well, go on then, shoo!’
She motions at us to get lost, and her face is stern but I think it’s all for show. Because if she really wanted to, she could have killed us, no matter what the rules were. She doesn’t strike me as the kind of person – goddess, I mean – who’d really give a stuff.
Hinekōruru addresses Dad. ‘At least they get to see the shadows in your heart.’
She yanks on the leash and Dad falls face down, the shadows still writhing around him. We should be running, but none of us can move. We’re all waiting to see what she’s going to do.
‘They took her attention; took her time,’ she continues. ‘So you took her away from them. And you used me to do it.’
I’m not quite sure, but I think Dad is feeling the ground, searching for something. I squint to see what he’s got; as I catch sight of a little sparkle in his hand, I realise what it is. It’s my earring. He’s got my diamond earring.
‘Rarohenga is no place for mortals who don’t know the rules,’ Hinekōruru says.
‘I never claimed to know everything,’ Dad says, and I want to shriek at her to move – to do something – but the words are frozen in my throat. I can only watch helplessly as light catches the diamond, and inexplicably, strangely, his shadowy prison begins to shred and split. ‘But I do know one thing …’
He throws the net off, and Hinekōruru falls back with a squeal of rage as he lunges for her throat.
‘Light beats shadow.’
And it’s right about then that we finally break into a run.
TUIKAE
I’m so tired and sore. It’s all I can do to stay upright, but I stumble through the bush with the others as fast as I can. When we get to the hot pool clearing, I want to stick my feet in one of them to heal up the cuts and scratches, but I don’t want my memory to slip away so I just put up with it.
Tui is sobbing under her breath as she runs, and I have a funny feeling that she’s not crying about Dad as much as she is about her lost earring. Mum’s dress is all dirty, and hanging in shreds where it got burned. She’s bunched it up and stuffed it into her undies at the side so she can run faster, and it kind of works, but it’s also kind of gross.
I’m pretty sure Hine-what’s-her-face will have some kind of trick up her sleeve. She’s a goddess after all, and our dad’s only a human, but I can’t help remembering how much taller and broader he is here; how he managed to get Tāwhirimatea on side, and how he got out of the shadow net. He’s learned a few tricks since he’s been down here, and I can only hope that Hine-what’s-her-face knows a few more.
We burst out of the trees, and before us flows the river, broad and deep. Mum gapes at it in a panic. She’s not a great swimmer; not as good as me and Tui, anyway. She’ll never make it across.
‘Don’t worry – the mermaids made me a boat. I left it over …’ I look around wildly for it, and my shoulders slump. There on the shore lies a scattered pile of leaves, feathers and wilted flowers.
‘Well, where?’ says Tui impatiently.
‘It’s all good; I’ll just play it back together.’ I grab the uke and start strumming, ‘Fading light, a long dark night, sure to follow …’
I strum and sing, but unfortunately the leaves, feathers and flowers don’t start magically floating and spinning in the airand turning into a boat. They just sit there.
Tui raises an eyebrow. ‘Riiight.’
‘I played for the mermaids a
nd they turned this stuff into a boat, alright?’
‘They’re the ponaturi; the underwater people.’ Mum gives me an ironic sort of look. ‘There’s no such thing as mermaids.’
‘Can’t we give them a koha?’ says Tui. She fiddles with the remaining earring in her earlobe and holds it up. ‘I hope one is enough.’
‘One was enough to get Dad free,’ I say sarcastically, and she gives me her best ‘whatever’ scowl.
She throws her earring in the river. We wait, but nothing happens. Tui stamps her foot in frustration. ‘Oh, come on! That was a diamond!’
Mum’s mouth quirks. ‘Were those the ones Auntie gave you for Christmas?’
‘Yes,’ says Tui.
‘Then, no,’ says Mum, and Tui’s face falls so hard I almost crack up. I know she’s thinking of how she kicked Ari because he made her lose one of them. School. It feels like so long ago.
‘Go on, then,’ I say, eyeing her mere pointedly.
Tui whips it behind her back. ‘No! It was a present!’
‘Easy come, easy go. Besides, they might not like it. You’d better get ready to duck in case they don’t. That thing’d take off your head.’
‘Aw, man.’ She strokes the polished stone. Then she slides the tie off her wrist and throws the mere in the river.
It sinks below the surface, and ripples widen from where it dropped. With a gurgle, a rough wooden boat pops up out of the water.
It’s nowhere near as nice as the waka they gave me for my song. That makes me kind of happy. I wade into the river and drag it back for Mum and Tui to get into.
We arrange ourselves with Tui at the front and me and Mum with a paddle each. Tui starts moaning because she hasn’t got one, and then suddenly Dad bursts from the treeline and comes sprinting toward us.
‘Go! Go!’ Tui shrieks.
Mum and I dig hard, but we don’t have any kind of rhythm, and the boat starts spinning in circles. Tui leans over the side and starts paddling with both arms. She’s not helping at all. Her bum is practically in my face, and she’s making the boat tip to one side, and before we get ourselves sorted out, Dad splashes into the river.