by Eliza Quancy
‘Aulani. Aulani. Aulani. Aulani.’ It must have been Scarface. He must be leading the crowd but I can’t see him.
I stop and put my bilum on the ground and lift my hands into the air like last night. It’s the only thing I can try. Slowly I turn around while the crowd stops and watches. They are round me in a circle now. Silent. Watching my every move. When I finish my turn I am facing the crowd in front of the exit, the people who are blocking the track to the street. I look at them, the ones who are furthest forward and stare straight into their eyes.
‘You will move,’ I say, ‘and let me through,’ I pause and they hesitate, ‘or your children will die.’ I pause again, and add, ‘I know who they are and I will kill them.’
Still, nobody moves and I wonder what to do next. Without thinking or making a decision, I bend down, pick up my bilum and start to move forward. And I keep on looking at them, sweeping my eyes around the circle, meeting the gaze of as many as I can but they are moving now, backing off, faster and faster, starting to fall over each other. A child yells and it’s like a signal. They run without looking back, pushing each other to get away and my way is clear. Slowly and steadily (I can’t manage it any other way because my legs are hurting so much, but only I know this), I move towards the track and then towards the street. The place is almost deserted when I get to the road. A couple of men in the distance and no cars at all. I trudge on with the bilum wrapped around my head and cutting in. The top of my back and my shoulder and neck muscles strain with the weight, but I keep going until I come to the long road that I walked down yesterday. Was it only yesterday? Was it the day before? I look around but no-one is following and I get to the house where I slept before. It still looks empty and I turn into the drive. I wonder if I’ve got a guardian angel after all. Layla told me about them, too. In life lessons.
15
There is a loud ringing and I jump up in fear before burrowing into my bilum to find the phone. It stops just as I get it out. It’s Layla. Thank God she’s safe. I was just going to ring her. I’m about to ring back but the phone rings again and this time it’s Joel. He’s programmed his contact details so that his name comes up when the phone rings. I stare at it as though he’s going to appear in person but of course, he isn’t. He doesn’t. He’s not here. I wonder if he knows about what happened at the marketplace this afternoon. Does he know what Scarface tried to do? I don’t pick up. Almost as soon as it stops, it starts again and it’s Joel again. I sit holding it in my hand waiting for it to stop so I can ring Layla. It feels as though he must know where I am but, of course, he doesn’t.
Eventually, the phone is quiet and I try ringing Layla. She picks up immediately.
‘Auli?’
‘Yes.’
‘Are you safe?’
‘Yes. Are you?’
‘Yes.’ We sigh in unison. I can hear her sigh trembling out of the speaker.
‘Where are you?’ she asks and I try to explain and I ask where she is.
‘I’m back at the market,’ she says. ‘I wanted to make sure that they hadn’t got you. That you weren’t still there.’
‘Did you see what happened?’ I ask.
‘Yes,’ she says. ‘You were good, Auli. More than good, but we can’t go back to the house.’
I suppose she’s right. We can’t go back.
‘Then where shall we go?’ I ask and there’s a long silent space before she answers,’Keroko, Auli. We’ll have to go to Keroko. There isn’t anywhere else.’
I don’t like the thought of this, but I suppose she’s right. There isn’t anywhere else we can go.
‘I can think of two problems,’ I say.
‘Only two,’ Layla shoots back. ‘Then you aren’t trying, Auli.’
I laugh. Layla always managed to make me laugh and she’s not forgotten how to do it.
‘How do we get there?’ I ask her. ‘I haven’t got a clue where I am… or how to get there….. Or how to tell you where I am.’
‘Ok,’ she says. ‘That’s one.’
‘And how do we live once we’re there? I haven’t got much money, have you?’
‘No, I haven’t,’ Layla admits, ‘and money by itself won’t solve the problem. One of us will have to come down the mountain to buy food.’
‘There must be a way we could manage up there,’ I say. ‘What about a pig? We could take a pig with us and then we’d have meat.’
‘We’ll solve the food problem later,’ Layla says sounding confident. ‘First of all, let’s get ourselves there.’ My whole body shudders as I remember the sight of Saul’s body lying on the floor. How was it possible that the police didn’t find it?
‘And how will we do that?’ I ask.
‘You’ll have to tell me where you are, Auli, and I’ll come and find you. Then we’ll go together.’
I nod, but then smile realising that she can’t see me. ‘I’m nodding,’ I tell her.
‘Ok,’ she says, ‘and now think back to when you left the market. Which way did you go?’ I do my best to remember and tell her as clearly as I can.
‘Stay where you are,’ she says. ‘I’ll try and find you. Can you put something in the driveway so that I know when I’ve found the house?’
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘I’ll put some stones in the middle of the drive. I’ll do it now.’
I gather the stones and take them to the driveway entrance next to the road. It’s easy to get them because there are plenty of good-sized edging stones along the flowerbeds. Lumps of soft earth fall on to the hard driveway as I dislodge the stones that keep the border soil in place. It doesn’t take long to gather a pile of stones to mark the house. I place them in a circle. Then I go to sit under the house and drink water.
The tap sounds loud just like before but nobody comes and after the third time, I don’t worry so much and let the water run for longer. I hear some dogs start to bark but it’s not because of the water and I eat a banana. I’m very hungry but I manage to save the other one for Layla. I wonder if she’ll find the house. I’ve built quite a large stone circle in the middle of the driveway. She’s bound to see it if she gets this far. For a second, I wonder what I’m going to do if she doesn’t get here, but I push the thought away and get the pandanus nuts out. I could eat all of them. Oh, my dear. I put them away and get them out again. Perhaps I could eat half of them, but no, I put them away again to save for when Layla gets here. It might be a long time before we get more food.
There are all kinds of things I can’t allow myself to think about to do with going back to Keroko. The worst one is the fear of seeing Saul’s body and worse than that. Layla seeing Saul’s body. I still can’t understand why the police didn’t find him. Maybe they didn’t go. Perhaps the man they sent there lied because he was lazy and didn’t go all the way to Keroko. This seems the most likely explanation.
I wish I’d got a watch. I’ve no idea what time it is or how long I’ve been sitting here waiting for Layla. Hoping that she’ll somehow find the place. I decide to have a look on my phone to see what time it is but I can’t keep doing that because of the need to preserve the battery. She hasn’t rung or texted. As this thought is going through my mind, my phone rings. I pick it up and am about to answer when I see that once again it’s Joel. What does he want? What can I say? I can’t tell him where I am or where we are going, so I don’t answer. There’s no point. I’m sorry that I can’t answer. I like Joel. He was kind and nice to lie with in the evenings. Layla says I shouldn’t trust him, but she might be wrong.
***
I’m asleep when Layla comes and she puts her hand over my mouth to stop me from crying out.
‘Where have you been?’ I ask.
‘On the way,’ she replies.
‘Why so long?’
‘Had to see somebody. Get food,’ she replies and it’s true. Her bilum weighs a ton. It’s full of food but I don’t know how we’re going to carry it up the mountain.
‘It’s too heavy,’ I tell her but she shakes he
r head.
‘We’ll manage,’ she says and smiles at me. (We? There’s no way I can lift that thing, and I certainly can’t carry it up the mountainside.) She’s got two mats in there and gives me one to lie on. I’m grateful because the concrete is cold and very hard. I settle myself down, thinking we can talk about things tomorrow but she tells me, no, ten minutes rest and then we’ve got to go.
‘No, Layla,’ I say. ‘I can’t go now. I’m tired. My legs hurt. I need to sleep.’
She doesn’t reply. Just looks at me and waits for me to start packing up. It’s mother Layla back again in teacher mode, telling me what to do. No choice, I suppose.
‘Can we eat?’ I ask. ‘I’m hungry.’
‘Later,’ she says. ‘Not now. Come on, Auli. Get a move on.’ Within a few minutes, I’m on my feet and following her out of the drive. On to the road. There are no cars now, only very occasionally and we hide from the lights. The trick is to stop moving as soon as we hear a car coming, or a truck. We have to stay absolutely still and it seems to work. Nothing stops and each time we breathe again.
We walk for hours and my legs ache badly. Layla won’t stop and she speeds up as the light comes into the sky and the first birds start to sing.
‘Come on, Auli, hurry up,’ she says. ‘You’ve got to hurry up.’ She knows I’m in pain but she keeps saying that we’ve got to leave the road. We need to reach the mountain track and start to go up.
‘I can’t,’ I say as I stumble along. ‘I can’t go any faster, Layla.’
‘You can,’ she says. ‘You must.’
And somehow I do.
We don’t stop until we’re half an hour into the mountain and then I collapse. I can’t move one more step, I really can’t.
‘All right,’ she says and gives me a mat, but I’m too weary to get on to it so she pushes and pulls me until I’m lying on the mat and covers me with a laplap. Then I sleep.
The crickets wake me up when it’s getting dark and I know that I’ve slept all day. I hope we’re not going to walk through the night and am relieved when Layla says no, we won’t do that. She makes a fire and lights it. We’re going to stay here and rest. Tomorrow, we’ll start to walk again. I watch her place the stones and get the kaukau and fish to cook in the fire. The smell of the food mixes in with the smell of the smoke and I never knew I could feel this hungry. I look into the fire and see only two small kaukau, two small corns and two small fish.
‘Is that all we’ve got?’ I ask, staring at the small food. I’m going crazy with the smell.
‘No,’ she says, ‘but it’s all that we’re going to eat today.’
‘I’ll swap you a fish for a kaukau,’ I offer, thinking that the kaukau is much bigger than the fish.
‘No,’ she says. ‘We won’t do that,’ and she fetches big leaves for us to use as plates. ‘Here you are,’ she says, ‘you greedy girl. Eat it slowly and it will be enough.’
I try. I look at Layla and see her taking very small bites so I do the same. I don’t want to have finished mine while she’s still eating.
‘Drink a lot,’ she says tossing me the plastic water bottle that’s half full. ‘The water will fill you up.’ There’s a waterfall only a few steps away right next to the track so we can drink our fill.
It’s time I told her, I think. If she knows about the baby, I might get more food.
‘I’m pregnant,’ I announce and watch her face. ‘Joel had sex with me in the police station.’
‘Did he rape you?’ she asks.
I hesitate. It would look better for me if I said that he did. And it’s completely believable. But I can’t say it.
‘No,’ I reply. ‘I was lonely. I liked it.’
‘I knew it,’ Layla says after a pause.
‘Knew what?’ I asked.
‘That you were pregnant,’ she said, and then adds, ‘but I thought you’d been with Saul.’ She comes over to where I’m sitting and puts both arms around me and her tears fall as she smiles and laughs. ‘I’m glad,’ she says. ‘I’m glad for you, Auli, and I’m glad for me, too.’
I don’t speak, but she can see the question in my eyes. Why is she glad?
‘I couldn’t bear to think that you were carrying Saul’s child,’ she says. ‘I’ve wanted Saul’s child for most of my life. Ever since I married him. It’s what I wanted most in the whole world.’
I look at her. I hug her back and eat the rest of the kaukau without noticing.
16
There are two more nights on the mountain and the bags are heavy. Layla carries most but I’m still slow and she’s still quick. There’s a change. Layla was always kind but now she’s kinder. Waits for me more patiently. Asks if I’m feeling sick. Gives me the best fish and the biggest kaukau. She sings sometimes and tells me to join in. It’s too hard to sing while I’m struggling up and up but after we’ve eaten when we sit by the fire, I sing, too. She taught me all the songs I know and sometimes we sing in harmony remembering the old tunes and the way we used to do them. But as Layla gets lighter, I get heavier.
It’s the thought of Saul. It was easier not to think about him when I was somewhere else, but the closer we get to home, the heavier I feel. As though I can’t force myself to keep going. I don’t want to get there. I’m afraid of what we’ll find. Don’t know how Layla will react. I think about it. Would I still have killed him if he hadn’t raped me? If it was only the shackles. Only the shackles? Yes, I think I would. In the early days, whenever he ripped me, he would mutter things like ‘I’m getting you clean, Aulani. I’m driving them out.’ I never asked him what he was driving out. I didn’t know that he thought there were spirits inside me. I didn’t ask. I didn’t speak at all. Later, he said nothing but he drove into me with a force that tried to rip me apart. That was how it felt, as though I was being torn apart. I shudder and carry on climbing. Slower and slower.
‘Come on, Auli,’ Layla calls to me. ‘It’s not far now.’
‘My legs hurt,’ I tell her. ‘Sorry, Layla.’
We’re nearly there and it starts to rain. Layla calls some more. Tells me to hurry up or we’ll be soaked. I’m already soaked I tell her. I nearly say that she can go without me, but no. I want to be there when she arrives. I want us to arrive together. I need to know what there is and what we shall both see.
I stand and look at the avocado tree that grows near our house. It’s huge. I know it well and I’m back in the place of my childhood that I thought I had left for good. The three stones that we put under the tree - one for each of us - are still there. Covered in ferns and roots but still there. Things grow quickly here. Everything seeds, takes root. There are bushes and branches, leaves everywhere and green gushes out of the earth, wild and lush. Man-made things get covered over. Soon gone. I breathe in and smell the place. Even from here, the scent of jasmine that grows by the window at the back of the house reaches my nostrils. I can’t see it but the heady scent mixes with the leaves, the heavy undergrowth. I love it. Everything fresh and sweet. No hint of death.
‘The circle has been broken. We’ll have to mend it,’ Layla says as we stand together at the edge of our garden, at the place where we leave the track and turn right on to the little path that leads to our house. I stand with her and I nod. ‘I didn’t think I’d be coming back,’ she says, and I nod again.
‘Neither did I.’
Layla steps over the circle that is no longer there and I remember the saying about old habits dying hard. Suddenly I feel like giggling. It must be hysteria and I swallow it back as I follow her up the path. The garden has become overgrown even in such a relatively short time but I hardly notice it. I’m looking at the house. Layla starts to climb the steps up to the veranda and I see that they’re dirty and look neglected. The whole place looks neglected. The house door is closed so maybe the policeman did come here. I know I left it open. Layla pulls the door back and steps inside. There is no lock. We didn’t need one because there was always one of us in the house and nobody around any
way. I’ve got as far as the veranda. My feet won’t move. I can’t go in.
‘Come on, Auli, where are you?’ Layla calls. ‘We’ll have to clear up. It’s a terrible mess in here.’
I still can’t move so I sit down on the bench. I’ve already put my bilum down next to the steps. Layla comes out and sits next to me.
‘Aren’t you coming in?’ she asks and then she’s quiet. She must know something of what I’m feeling. ‘You’ll have to tell me,’ she says and I look at her.
‘Tell you what?’
‘Where you put him,’ she says. ‘How did you move his body’
I shake my head. ‘No,’ I say. ‘I didn’t move him. He was too heavy.’
After a while, I get up and go inside, leave Layla sitting on the bench. I think I need to go in by myself. I walk into the living room and look on the floor. He’s not there. There’s a mess. Bits of torn sheet and tablecloth. Chewed up mat. An enamel mug on the floor. Saul’s mug. I walk into the other rooms and the shower. There’s animal shit everywhere. Shit of various kinds. Mouse. Rat. Something bigger. A boar? Nothing left of Saul. Nothing at all.
‘He’s gone,’ I say.
It’s getting dark and too late to clean the house or get the generator going. Layla lights a lamp and we sweep the veranda and lie down there for the night. We lie in silence, each separate, contained in our own thoughts.