by Steph Matuku
‘Get away!’ Mum yells and prods at him with her paddle, but he grabs her arm and tries to haul her out of the boat. We move into deeper water now, and he loses his footing and lets Mum go.
The boat leaps forward as, miraculously, we all start paddling in sync. Dad takes a few swimming strokes after us and grabs for the side of the boat. It rocks wildly and Tui screams, sliding sideways into the water.
Well, I don’t think about it. I just jump in after her.
TUIKAE
I’m spinning around and around, down and down, and I can’t breathe. The water is all around me, light blue and warm, like a tropical ocean, and as I frantically try to work out which way is up, I see an indistinct shape floating in the haze. It’s Kae. I strike out toward him, but this thing, this taniwha, suddenly appears in front of me and snarls. Bubbles stream past yellow fangs, and its pāua-coloured eyes are looking at me; looking through me.
It winds itself around me and drags me toward Kae. Then it coils around Kae like a snake and we all shoot up toward the surface, to where the little boat is bobbing about.
Two strong hands under my armpits pull me up, and I splutter and cough.
I am not dead.
TUIKAE
I lie on the bottom of the boat wheezing. I’m completely stuffed. Mum’s face is terrified. She bursts into tears as she hugs first me and then Tui, and then me again.
‘I thought you’d been dragged under. You both sank like stones.’
‘The taniwha saved us,’ Tui says. Her teeth are chattering. ‘I guess Hinekōruru was right. It doesn’t work for Dad anymore.’
‘Where is Dad?’ I sit up and peer over the side of the boat, but there’s nothing.
‘I don’t know,’ Mum says. ‘He fell back and disappeared.’
‘Did you see any sparkles?’ Tui asks.
I know what she means, but Mum clearly doesn’t. She shakes her head, looking confused.
‘How did he get away from Hine-what’s-her-face?’ I say.
‘Hinekōruru,’ Mum corrects.
‘Maybe he killed her,’ I say.
Tui looks downcast for some reason. I can’t say I’m upset about it.
Mum shakes her head. ‘You can’t kill a goddess. They fade away if you forget about them, but they never truly die. They’re part of the world; wound into the fabric of its spiritual nature. They’ll always be here.’
Mum and I each take a paddle, and we start the long journey to the other side. We’ve got a nice rhythm going when suddenly there’s a splash. Our heads whip round, certain that it’s Dad. But it’s not. It’s one of the mer—I mean, one of the ponaturi, leaping into the air and diving back down again.
‘Show-off,’ Tui says affectionately, and I wave my paddle at it.
‘Thanks for the boat!’
Tui snorts. ‘You should be thanking me,’ she says. ‘I was the one who got it for us.’
‘Right. Have you told Mum how you got that mere in the first place?’ Tui scowls at me, and I grin. ‘Oh, you didn’t? Well, guess what, Mum? We met one of the tūrehu.’
‘Pffft. Tūrehu,’ Mum says. ‘You watch out for them. They’re tricky.’
‘Funny you should say that,’ I say. ‘Because—’
‘Alright, alright.’ Tui is glaring daggers at me, but she ploughs on anyway. ‘I actually got engaged to him. So, now you know.’
‘What?’ Mum yelps.
She’s so aghast that she doesn’t see Dad rising out of the water behind her.
I yell and Tui screams, and then he’s struggling with Mum and we’re pulling her back and the boat is rocking like anything.
Suddenly, there’s a crashing of water like a whale breaching, and a streak of bubbles comes speeding toward us. A massive thud hits the side of the boat, sending us sprawling.
And just like that … Dad’s gone.
TUIKAE
Sparkles rise up from the water, light and colourful. Kae slumps, and Mum slides her arms around him. They stay like that for ages, not saying anything. They don’t even notice that I’m the one paddling them home.
Eventually we land on shore. We get out of the boat and push it back into the river. It floats for a bit and then sinks so fast it’s like it’s been dragged under. The glowing green path that we walked along when we first arrived has vanished, but Kae and I have a fair idea of where we should be going.
The trees crowd over, dark and still, and steam rises up from bubbling pools. It’s not as scary as before. The dim light isn’t frightening; it’s warm like velvet, soft against our skin. The glowing phosphorescence of the fungi on the tree trunks and rocks isn’t eerie either. It’s a thousand different glowing colours, like a jar of lollies. A lizard drops out of a tree and lands on my shoulder, and I don’t even care. I just say hi and walk with it on my shoulder until it decides to leap off again. It’s funny how different it feels, and yet nothing here has really changed. It’s us who have changed.
Kae walks along hand in hand with Mum, and every now and then he checks that I’m still there, following them both. And every time he checks, he smiles at me. It’s nice. It’s nice being with Mum too. We haven’t walked with her in ages. She’s always been off walking by herself – walking to get somewhere; going off to do all those things she felt she had to do to keep me and Kae fed and safe and warm, when all we really needed was her.
So we move through the trees, and every now and then we talk, but nobody mentions Dad. I think we’ve all had enough of him for the time being.
Eventually we reach the cliff face where we fell through. Vines hang down like a thick curtain. I look skyward to see where they begin, but the cliff just leads up into mist.
‘How do we get up there?’ I wonder.
‘Climb,’ says Kae. He jumps, grabs a handful of vine and hauls himself up. Mum looks as dismayed as I feel. She’s strong, but there’s no way I’ve got the upper-body strength to do that. ‘Come on,’ shouts Kae down to us. ‘It’s easy, it’s—’
The vine breaks, and he lands splat at our feet.
Mum and I crack up, and after a moment Kae does too, but soon the laughter fades off, and we’re left staring at each other in silence, wondering what the hell it is we’re supposed to do now.
And then the shadows in the dark places beneath the vines begin to swirl.
‘Oh no.’ I hold my fists up like a boxer, and I wish I still had my mere. It would look a whole lot more convincing.
The shadows come together, and there stands Hinekōruru, as cool as ever, with her hair blowing back in the non-existent breeze.
‘Stuck, are we?’ she says.
‘You’re alive,’ I blurt out. I can’t help it. I’m glad she’s still around.
‘It takes more than a mortal man to get the better of me,’ she says, and gives Mum a friendly nod. ‘And you too, it would seem.’
Mum nods back. Looking from one to the other, I can see they’ve reached some kind of unspoken truce.
‘I can help you,’ Hinekōruru says.
Kae narrows his eyes. ‘In exchange for what?’
‘Just my name on your lips every now and then. You’re the only mortals left to remember me now.’
‘As if we could ever forget,’ Kae snorts.
The shadows around her grow larger and denser, and soon they’re around us too, writhing around our ankles and legs like smoke, lifting us up and up and up.
Kae leans over and waves. ‘See you later Hine—’ he stops.
I can’t believe it. ‘Kōruru, you egg,’ I hiss.
Without missing a beat, he finishes ‘—kōruru! Goddess of Shadows!’
We all wave, and the echo of her laugher floats up to us, helping us on our way. We drift through mist into the dark, and we’re moving faster now, passing through time and space. Eventually we pop out of the hole at the top of the hill.
Rarohenga lies before us, golden and placid in the afternoon light. Papatūānuku stretches and rolls, and Ranginui casts a rainbow across her waist.
/> And up above, Te Rā limps across the sky, still bound by shining ropes.
TUIKAE
The walk down through the bush passes in a blur, and finally, we’re back on the beach where everything began. Auntie Huia is there with a crowd of people behind her, and I recognise faces. There are the boy and girl twins; the lady who was once a carved post, with her arm around a young girl; a warrior carrying a taiaha; and even a little white dog sitting up and begging. I look closer, and yep, sure enough, he’s missing a tooth.
Auntie Huia folds me and Tui in her arms and says, ‘I knew you could do it.’ But she rolls her eyes to let us know that she didn’t really think we had it in us after all.
‘Those earrings weren’t diamonds,’ is all Tui has to say. Auntie Huia bursts into a cackle of laughter.
She gives Mum a hug too, and she and Mum cry and cry. It’s the first time they’ve seen each other since Auntie died. But the tears dry up pretty quick when the tūrehu appears at the treeline and saunters down to the shore.
Out of the dim green light of the bush, he’s even paler. His skin glows like a pearl, and his hair is ablaze in the sunlight. Tui blushes bright red, and I realise, of course. He’s going to want to take her away now.
‘I couldn’t find the loophole!’ she hisses frantically to me. ‘There’s none! I’m going to have to get married; leave school … unless …’ She brightens and turns to Auntie Huia. ‘Is he allowed to come home with me?’
Auntie and Mum both look scandalised, and Mum starts toward the tūrehu with a grim expression on her face, but I have an idea.
‘Hey, man,’ I say, stepping in between the women of my family and this poor guy who really has no idea what he’s getting himself into. ‘I’ve got something for you. But I want something in return.’
I slide the ukulele off my back and show it to him. He raises a bored eyebrow; I guess he still thinks it’s a weapon. I pluck at the strings and then play a few chords. Well. His face lights up. He takes the ukulele from me, and picks at a string.
‘Yeah, like that,’ I say. ‘You just need a bit of practice.’
He gives me this ‘whatever’ look, and then he strums and plays exactly the same chords I just played. He’s pretty good, actually; not that I’m going to tell him that.
‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘A bit like that. You’ll soon get the hang of it.’
‘What do you wish in return?’ the tūrehu says.
‘My sister,’ I reply.
I can see Tui out the corner of my eye, and I almost burst out laughing. On one hand, she’s relieved that she doesn’t have to marry the fairy, but on the other, she’s furious that I’ve gone and swapped her for my ukulele. She’s so conflicted she looks as if she’s about to explode.
‘Yes,’ the tūrehu says, and marches back up the beach without a second glance back.
‘Well!’ says Tui. For a moment I think she’s going to stamp her foot. ‘How rude.’
We watch the tūrehu disappear into the bush, the sound of my ukulele drifting back to us. For a moment I think I see something, someone else, moving through the trees, making the branches sway. Auntie squeezes my hand. When I look back to the bush, the trees are still again.
‘Don’t worry about your father,’ Auntie says softly. ‘He truly belongs here now. He didn’t before, and it was hard on him. But now he belongs, and we will welcome him. He’ll be at peace again.’
‘I hope so.’ I feel a lump in my throat, and my eyes fill with tears.
‘It’s good to cry,’ Auntie says, folding me into a hug. ‘Tears wash the pain away. Cry, my boy. Just cry.’
And so I do.
TUIKAE
A boat bobs at the edge of a lake. An old woman is on board, holding a paddle. Her face is shrouded by a cloak, and she doesn’t speak to us as we settle ourselves behind her.
‘She will take you over the lake to a place where it is easy to climb into the World of Light,’ says Auntie. ‘The portal is still open. It will close after you.’ She smiles. ‘I’ll see you later. Much, much later.’
My lip trembles, but I smile back and wave, and within a few strokes of the paddle, the beach is enveloped in mist. I can’t see Auntie anymore, but I know she’s there, just behind the veil.
‘Mum,’ I say, as the boat glides through the water. ‘I got demoted from prefect.’
Mum looks surprised, but she doesn’t seem mad. ‘Why?’
‘I was fighting a guy who was being a dick about Kae.’
Kae clears his throat. ‘I … er … got suspended.’
‘Why?’ Mum just sounds resigned now.
‘I was fighting a guy who was being a dick about Tui.’
I knew it wasn’t about the ukulele. I grin at my brother and he grins at me.
Mum sighs. ‘I should really spend a little more time with you two. What do you reckon?’
And for once, I know we’re all in agreement.
the end
Acknowledgements
This book started life as a film script written with the help of Seed Grant funding from the New Zealand Writers Guild. Special thanks to Hone Kouka for his guidance and patience and for helping me to figure out the ‘why’. Thanks also to the team at Huia Publishers for everything.
Other books by this author
Flight of the Fantail
Steph Matuku
A bus full of high school students crashes in remote bush. Only a few of the teenagers survive; they find their phones don’t work, there’s no food, and they’ve only got their wits to keep them alive. There’s also something strange happening here. Why are the teenagers having nosebleeds and behaving erratically, and why is the rescue effort slow to arrive? To make it out, they have to discover what’s really going on and who is behind it all.
Discover more at huia.co.nz