Awatea and the Kawa Gang

by Fraser Smith

  Awa sighed. “Civilisation,” he grumbled.

  “I’m going to build a fire under the copper. You need hot water now!”

  Ma Rumble spread butter on some date scones, and put a plate of them in front of Awa. She poured him tea from the pot with the pompom tea cosy, added milk and left him to it.

  “What do you think, Carrot?” he asked. “Do we need civilisation?”

  “Poop!” said Carrot. “Whoopsie poop!” He splattered his poop tray.

  Awa laughed as he enjoyed his scones. “Poop,” he said. “And double poop!”

  He heard Pa Rumble’s cart rattling off towards the beach as Ma came back in.

  “You can get into the bath. There’s hot water, soap, a towel, a change of clothes and a hairbrush! You and Tredget both go wild as soon as I turn my back.”

  “I’ve been washing in the sea.”

  “Well, now you need a good rinse.” Ma Rumble had her hands on her hips and her chest out. She shook her head and ruffled his tangled hair.

  “Look out!” said Carrot.

  “OK,” said Awa.

  In the wash house Awa noticed his legs were crusted with salt from Tangaroa. He reluctantly washed all over, brushed his hair and came back to the kitchen in clean clothes.

  “Hello, hello,” said Carrot conversationally.

  “Clean as a new day, Awatea. Now you sparkle like your name,” said Ma.

  She dished out boiled mutton, pūhā, onions and dumplings. Awa was surprised he was still hungry.

  “Thanks for looking after that cantankerous bird,” Ma said.

  “He helps look after me, Ma Rumble.”

  “You are welcome to him any time,” she said. “Sometimes he’s too much for me and Pa. Now go and show your Nan and Pop you are still in one piece. Leave your dirty clothes here, and I’ll throw them in the copper.”

  Awa wandered down the beach to Nan and Pop’s bach on his own. The Kawa Gang HQ seemed a long way away. “But not out of reach,” he reassured himself.

  It wasn’t long before he was smothered in Nan’s face-powder-flavoured kisses. Awa preferred Pop’s handshake. They sat down to more tea. At the table, Awa told Nan and Pop about the leopard seals.

  “About once a year they gather down that end,” said Pop. “Passing through from God knows where. They don’t stay long. Don’t get between them and the sea when they are close. I guess it’s like cutting off their escape route. I had a near miss when I did that once.”

  “One with a flip-top head chased me, but Carrot dive-bombed it like the kamikaze gang bombed me.”

  “You have a vivid imagination, don’t you, moko,” said Nan. “It sounds like the Second World War out there.”

  Awa decided he’d said enough. He changed the subject. “A tractor has been coming onto the beach through Toss’s place. They cut the fence. Toss wants me to keep an eye out.”

  “That’s strange. We can all keep a watch,” said Pop. “No need to go around cutting people’s fences. If you visit a farm you leave every gate as you find it, so the stock don’t wander. To cut a fence is a very low trick.”

  “They patched it a bit, but Toss had to go and fix it properly.”

  Nan cut in. “We had a telephone call back home. Tai is coming out in a couple of days. Frank’s picking him up off the bus. He might stay for a week or so. Your dad is back in hospital for a rest. He works too hard, that man.”

  “Back in hospital? What sort of a rest, Nan?”

  “His doctor told him to take it easy, but he doesn’t take it easy enough. He still thinks he’s as fit as he used to be. Doctor made him stay for a check-up, to keep him quiet for a while. Your mum can manage the two youngsters on her own, but Tai wants to play with you.”

  Awa thought he could introduce Tai to Carrot, and to the kamikaze gang and Red Eye. Tai could even join the Kawa Gang. Maybe the two of them could chase Flip-top Head and its mate back to sea where they belonged, and be vigilantes together on tractor watch.

  When Tai arrived there was a lot to catch up on. Carrot came first. The two boys were sitting on a sand dune looking out to sea after breakfast when they saw Pa Rumble’s cart in the distance. A bunch of colour on the horse’s rump flickered. “Come on,” said Awa. “Time to meet Carrot.”

  “Eh? Carrot?”

  “Let’s go.” Awa chased the cart up the beach with Tai on his heels.

  Pa stopped the cart to throw on more agar. Carrot saw them closing in. “Boy!” he shouted. “Look out! Boy, Boy! Boy, Boy!” The sight of two boys fired him into a jumping frenzy. “Boy, Boy! Boy, Boy!”

  Tai stood there, eyes wide, as Carrot flew onto the tailboard of the cart and looked down at them.

  “Boy shoulder!” Awa, commanded.

  Carrot swooped over to land on Awa’s left shoulder. He looked at Tai, mumbling “Boy, Boy,” over and over, turning his head to stare at him with one eye then the other.

  “Nothing like two boys to put that bird’s head on sideways,” Pa Rumble said, leaning on his fork and laughing.

  “Rarmbull, old bugger. Boy, Boy.”

  “Hello, Awa. And you must be Tai.” Pa shook Tai’s hand.

  Tai was standing with his mouth open.

  “I could post a parcel! Watch out for flies, Tai. Cat got your tongue?” Pa was laughing quietly. “You boys take him for a walk. Watch out for treasure. Storms like that last one wash up all sorts of things. Nothing for me today but all this weed.”

  “Do you find seahorses?” Awa remembered the one he let go.

  “You should see my dried collection,” said Pa.

  “We will,” said Awa, wondering why he had never noticed it. “Later, OK?”

  “Roger that,” said Pa. “Check out the back wall of the seaweed shed some time.”

  “Come,” said Awa, and he gave Tai a little shake. Tai was bamboozled. “Come.” They set off up the beach to the fence line.

  Tai followed Awa up the track to the pōhutukawa, HQ of the Kawa Gang. They stopped at the fireplace. The billy and grill were waiting, and the little creek babbled. Tai was still bamboozled.

  “Look around,” said Awa. “See anything else? Like somewhere safe to sleep?”

  Carrot gave the game away. He flew up to the tree hut and yelled, “Boy, crusty! Crusty Boy!”

  Tai was recovering. He laughed and chanted, “Crusty Boy! Crusty Boy!”

  Up at the hut he touched everything, lay on the bed, uncovered the oilskin-wrapped box and bundle, and looked through the supplies. As Awa fed Carrot some cabin bread, Tai said, “What’s going on here? This is too much. How did you do this? And tell me about the parrot.”

  Awa told the story, but he didn’t mention any treasure.

  “But the Kawa Gang camp is so well stocked. How did you get all this stuff?”

  “From our other gang member. His name is Tredget.”

  Tai’s words came out fast. “Who’s in the gang and can I join?”

  “Sure. Tredget, Carrot, Awa and now Tai. Sometimes Toss, but he’s usually too busy to do much.”

  “I’m in,” said Tai. “Now show me everything.”

  Awa started with boiling the billy and serving gingernut biscuits. They put malt extract in their tea with condensed milk – Tai’s idea.

  “Let’s visit the kamikaze gang first. Red Eye still has my mug, and if he’s better, I want it back. Got your shanghai?” asked Awa.

  Tai shook his head. “No. What for?”

  “Self-defence. Oh well, we should be all right. We’ve got Carrot, and I’ve got mine.”

  They set off to kamikaze country. On the way, Awa told Tai about his trap and the injured kamikaze king. “They attacked Carrot, and Red Eye ripped my ear, but now the shoe’s on the other foot!”

  Higher on the hill, among the rocky tops where Awa had been feeding and watering the injured Red Eye, they came across the enamel mug. There were still a few feathers scattered about from Carrot’s attack.

  In the distance, there was a raucous warbling call from th
e kamikaze gang, “Quardle doodle ordle!”

  Awa called back, “Keeork quardle keeork!”

  They came. Red Eye perched on a high rocky point, his lieutenants spread around him. They looked down as Awa picked up the mug, threaded it into his belt, and loaded his shanghai.

  Carrot yelled, “Zealots, look out!”

  Red Eye yelled, “Quardle oodle dork!”

  “If they come closer, it’s an attack. Don’t turn your back, Tai.”

  They sat and watched until a harrier hawk gliding past on hill patrol came too close. The five magpies chased it furiously, weaving and spinning out of sight over the hill.

  “Looks like Red Eye has recovered, then,” said Awa. “Not so tame now. That’s gratitude for you. Now let’s check out the terror of the seas, Flip-top Head.”

  Tai was given no time for questions. Down at the rocky end of the beach, Awa remembered Pop’s words of wisdom: don’t get between the beast and the sea. He led Tai over the high end of the hill so they could look down on the leopard seals. Close to their resting spot was a steep bank. They leaned over. Two smooth, sleek animals were lying close together, dozing in the sun. The boys were close enough to pick up a whiff of their rank, fishy smell on the breeze.

  “Piro,” said Tai. “Poop!”

  “Poop!” yelled Carrot. “Whoopsie poop!”

  The leopard seals lifted their heads. Awa thought that he and Tai were safe. Those animals couldn’t climb up the bank. They waved their heads nervously and sniffed the air, watching the boys.

  “That big one nearly ripped my legs off. That’s Flip-top Head. When it opens its mouth, it opens wider than a pair of scissors. It moves fast and eats dogs, seals, gannets, penguins and boys. When it smells my footprints, it licks its lips and dribbles. Brrrr.”

  “Grrrr,” said Carrot, and gave his best huntaway bark. “Woohoof woohoof!”

  Flip-top was on its haunches now and turning towards the sea. Tai and then Awa copied Carrot’s bark. Waving and jumping, they barked and yelled, “Woohoof woohoof, get out, Flip-top Head!”

  The animals started to shuffle around and over the boulders, towards the sea.

  Carrot, proud of the effect of his bark, opened up again. “Woohoof woohoof, get out!”

  Awa did his Tarzan cry, “Oo e oo e oo e oo!” and beat his chest. Triumphant. They cheered loudly. “Wee-haa!”

  Tai joined in. “Oo e oo e oo!”

  Carrot yelled “Zealots!” and flapped his wings in a display of colour.

  They watched the two animals swim gracefully out to sea. As they chose a channel between the rocks further out, Awa noticed a few scattered blocks of wood bob in their wake and then stay put as if they were tied to something.

  Suddenly there was a swoosh of wings from behind.

  Awa turned, ducked, loaded his shanghai and took aim at a retreating magpie. Tai was new to this, slow and unarmed. One of the kamikaze gang hit him from behind and raked his forehead with a sideswipe of his wicked beak as it lunged for his eyes. Awa fired his shanghai. The retreating bird heard the stone coming and dodged. Red Eye swooped in slow circles out of range. “Ordle oodle DORK!”

  Carrot yelled, “Zealots! LOOK OUT!” Too late.

  “We turned our backs on the kamikaze gang!” Awa pushed back Tai’s hair from his forehead. Blood was running freely from a shallow slash. Awa took off his white singlet and bound it tightly around Tai’s head. Tai rubbed blood out of his eyes. Blood soaked through the singlet. He looked like a wounded soldier.

  Shanghai in hand, parrot on his shoulder, and his shocked and wounded brother beside him, Awa walked home.

  “More wounded! Is this the Second World War again? What happened this time?” asked Nan.

  “Same bloody magpies,” said Awa. “We were ambushed from behind by the kamikaze gang.”

  “Watch your language please, Awa.” She got her first-aid kit. “This is a bloody head, though.” She washed off Tai’s blood and inspected the wound.

  “We can close this with plaster, no need for stitches. Heads bleed a lot. I’m going to paint it yellow now.” Without warning she dabbed iodine onto the wound with a wad of cotton wool from a heavy brown bottle. Tai yelled and grimaced.

  “It stings!”

  Awa read POISON in big letters on the heavy brown glass.

  “Hold still. I had to put stitches in your brother’s ear because of those magpies.” She closed the cut with plaster quickly. “I could stitch it if you like.”

  “Argh, no, no!” Tai started to cry.

  “Awa, I think Tai has had enough for one day, or even two. Remember, you’re two years older than him. He looks shell-shocked, and you’ve only been gone a few hours.”

  “Carrot was off guard, they came out of nowhere.”

  “Boy,” said Carrot, hearing his name. “Zealots!”

  “There are zealots, hypocrites, thieves, backbiters and katipō of all kinds in this world. This is a good clean cut. You’re lucky. It’s only a flesh wound, Tai.” She cuddled him. “And don’t blame that parrot, Awa. You took your brother into danger, not the parrot. You talk as if he’s got all the brains. I hope you boys learned a lesson.”

  “I did, Nan,” snuffled Tai. “Look out for kamikazes!”

  “Sorry, Carrot, not your fault. Good boy.” Awa ruffled Carrot’s head feathers. “You have a very big brain, eh Carrot,” he whispered.

  Carrot nodded his head from side to side. “Shhh. Good boy, Boy.”

  9

  Kim’s Tricks

  “It’s time we took these boys back to civilisation for a while, Bill, or we’re going to be in trouble with their mother.” It was a new day. Nan was bossing Pop to pack the Humber 80.

  Awa and Tai threw their dirty clothes into a bag and shoved it in the boot, next to a few crayfish, still alive, in a damp sack. Awa wanted to run over to the Rumbles’ cabin to say goodbye to Carrot, but Nan was bossing them all to hurry up.

  Pop grumbled that he still had a cray pot out on the reef.

  “Pick it up in a couple of days. This boy may be all healed over by then.”

  Nan painted Tai’s wound with more iodine. Tai winced and then yelled as the sting set in. “That’s the last time I have to do this, Tai, as long as you keep it clean and dry.” Tai hopped from foot to foot, holding his head and moaning. Nan continued to pack, warning him, “Be careful you don’t bang something else and make me paint you some more.”

  Awa hoped they would return in a couple of days. When Nan told him he couldn’t ride along the beach on the running board, he reluctantly got in the back seat.

  Back at the homestead, the boys were made to wear shoes, peel potatoes, sweep the paths, set the big table and sit down for lunch.

  Awa mumbled to Tai over lunch, “Civilisation is not my cup of tea.”

  “Rather have billy tea with malt extract, eh Awa?” said Tai.

  “Yeah, can’t wait.” Awa sighed, his mouth full of roast pumpkin and gravy.

  Kim had been duck shooting. Nan roasted a black swan and two mallard ducks and invited an old neighbour to lunch. He came in a baggy pinstriped suit with medals pinned to his chest and a tourniquet tie tied tightly below his bulging Adam’s apple. Nan fussed over his plate being full, his steam pudding being hot, and the custard and cream being handy. He was Mr Willoughby to the boys, but Nan called him Willy. She said he had fought in the wars and deserved respect. The boys often took him milk and eggs. He never said much. There were gravy stains on his suit.

  After lunch, Frank, Kim, Nan, Pop and old Mr Willoughby sat on the porch with cups of tea. Awa and Tai stacked away the dishes and wandered off to Mrs Carol’s house. Awa was pleased to have Tai with him. Too many strange things had happened in there. Uncle Kim always teased him by singing a song about how Mrs Carol drowned her husband in the rain barrel, and he told stories of her ghost wandering the house. They avoided the rain barrel at the back and went in the front door.

  They played the old church organ, making a real racket with four
hands on the keys and four feet pumping the pedals. Awa was on the bass end, and he got some spooky notes going. Tai caught on. They both started singing, “Ooo, arrr, opera!”

  “Ohh, argh, ohh, argh!” A scary voice joined in, copying their notes. “Oohhhhh, aarrghh!”

  Both boys leapt to their feet. The organ wheezed to a stop. There was silence, then a scratching sound on the floor. The head and body of the tiger skin under the grand piano rose up and moved shakily. “ROAR! ROAR!”

  “Argh!” Tai yelled and ran for the door, with Awa close behind. They shot through the gate. As it banged shut behind them, they leaned on the fence, looking back at the house and gathering their breath.

  “I bet that was Kim again, Tai. Come on.” Awa led the way. Tai hung back cautiously as they snuck up onto the verandah and looked through the window.

  Suddenly, the tiger’s head appeared on the other side of the window pane. It nosed the glass, its yellow eyes staring right into theirs. “ROAR!” came a deep voice from inside. The head banged against the glass.

  The boys yelled and ran. They didn’t stop until they were back at their grandparents’ house. They sat on the steps of the porch in the afternoon sun. Tai had goose bumps on his arms and legs. Awa was breathing very fast. “That tiger is freaky!” said Tai. “How could that happen? It’s just a skin with a skull and glass eyes.”

  “Kim did it,” said Awa. “We should go back and get evidence.”

  “No chance! I’m not going anywhere near Mrs Carol’s today.”

  “Chicken,” said Awa.

  “You go, then.”

  “Maybe later. Let’s check out the orchard.”

  Kim was in the orchard. He had a bucket of feijoas and was mixing honey and water in another bucket. He cut up the feijoas and dropped them into the honey and water. The boys ate some honey and watched as Kim poured the mixture into a small wooden barrel. He pushed the last feijoas through the bung-hole. Then he dragged the barrel under the hedge and plugged the bung-hole tightly with a large feijoa he had saved.

  “There, that’ll do it. Just need to keep the bung tight and let it ferment.”

  “What are you making?” asked Tai.