Another Throw of The Dice

by Mary Clare Morganti

  What message she conveyed was uncertain and feeling perverse she simply did not care. She went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea to avoid more questioning. Mr Telephono to her surprise, followed her and said he was glad she had had someone with her during the worst of the storm.

  When Robert came back after a few days’ away he described the waste land which had replaced the lush tropical growth; the stoicism of the villagers had impressed him. He had been prepared to hear expressions of guilt from a God-fearing population who had seen the devastation in apocalyptic terms, but instead he found all the able-bodied working in well-organised groups restoring the damaged houses and water storage facilities while the huge church looked on in unscathed solidity. The pastor insisted on thanking God for sparing the spared and Robert wanted to ask him what God’s intentions were in relation to those who had not been spared. Had he been able to communicate with the old people he might have heard lamentations about God’s wrath. As he commented wryly to Min, such certainties had something in common with those of the meteorologists.

  Min meanwhile had discovered that two of her promising students had been drowned in different villages when the swell had crashed over their sleeping quarters in darkness. There was a memorial service at the college which the students organised and once again her emotions were stirred by their vocal energy which provoked cathartic tears. The service was conducted in the local language but the feelings were universal and shared. She was asked to speak on behalf of the expatriate staff and she acknowledged the loss of potential for the families and for the country as a whole. She said she was glad to be staying on to witness the restoration of hope and the survival of the spirit. Had she been leaving now she might have carried a memory of a crushed and damaged people. Jim’s and Polly’s plans were shaping up for their departure in the new year when Min would be visiting her home town, so it was good to share herhouse with Polly now while Jim and Robert were helping in the villages. Eturasi had put them in touch with his friend in Hawai’i and they had received an encouraging letter, saying that general handyman work would probably be available on the island they had chosen to move to after the birth of the child. Polly was feeling positive and healthy at last and she and Min went nearly every afternoon to swim in the lagoon where they lay on their backs to enjoy the massage therapy of the summer rains. Afterwards with matted hair and sticky bodies they’d stagger home, laughing helplessly at nothing at all.

  ‘This child has already experienced the worst and now the best,’ laughed Polly. ‘From now on, I’m determined to value life’s essentials. I sort of feel that I’ve grown up.’

  Min agreed and said she would never forget her fear of the elemental power of nature’s possibilities.

  ‘Perhaps one needs to know hardship to be fully human,’ she pouted and

  Polly nodded sagely.

  Chapter 88

  Min had not seen Gerard since the cyclone until they met in the bank one afternoon when life had returned to a semblance of normality. He kissed her three times and said quietly,

  ‘Quel catastrophe chérie - tu m’as manqué.’

  Min asked if Yvonne was back from New Caledonia and was told that she would wait till he finished the repairs in his spare time. He had reopened for business so he had to do the work after hours. He said he was feeling lonely and would she come and see him. She told him that Robert had moved in with her and he smiled and said,

  ‘Et alors…?’

  ‘We’re just good friends anyway, but…’

  ‘Vous autres Anglo-Saxons vous me faites rire. Trois jours dans une prison et on reste « just good friends ». He shook his head and took hold of Min’s hands.

  ‘Ce soir chérie ? - oui - chez moi ?’

  Min said she would call around for coffee but she might have Polly and/or Robert with her.

  ‘Bof - OK - D’accord.’ He waved in a gesture of resigned cheeriness and headed for the door.

  Robert and Jim both came home that evening so Polly went back to their place and Robert said he was relieved to sleep in the bed he had come to call his own. When Min suggested they call around to have coffee with Gerard he demurred.

  ‘I’m not sure that Gerard is dying to see me,’ he said pointedly and Min asked him what he meant.

  ‘Min old girl, Dinah and I have been aware of your relationship with him for some time so don’t let me put a spanner in the works.’

  Apart from hating the expression old girl, Min was angered by what sounded like a patronising tone in his voice. She felt like a schoolgirl with a crush who was not taken seriously and she said as much. Robert had never seen her temper flare before and apologised while not knowing what exactly provoked it.

  ‘I didn’t see it as any of my business as it happens.’

  Min was unable to explain why his revelation had annoyed her except that they had been holed up for days and it surprised her that the subject had not arisen in the course of some soul-searching. Robert’s casual attitude revealed that her emotional life was of little consequence to him and she suddenly realised that it mattered to her what he felt about her and Gerard, but she wasn’t prepared to say so. She wasn’t even prepared to ask him how they knew.

  Gerard’s coffee was the best she had ever tasted and his mood seemed more serious than during their former encounters. He spoke about his plans for the land he had bought and how he wanted to build a hybrid house using the basic open-plan local model but with all the modern conveniences. A large water tank was to be a priority and he was even talking about writing to somebody in France to enquire about solar panels to provide electricity for the house. He was going to try and grow some coffee and cocoa plants which he would experiment with.

  ‘When do you think Yvonne will be back?’

  ‘In about two more weeks.’

  Yvonne’s absence provided some legitimacy for a truncated session of love-making as if it was a routine to round off the evening. The playfulness which Min had come to expect was missing and she was aware of Yvonne’s shadow.

  On the way home in the car she took her inexplicable anger out on the steering wheel and after some meaningless expletives full of feeling she declared,

  ‘That’s it!’

  What IT was she didn’t know and nor did she understand her unhappiness. She seemed doomed to live in a limbo drained of comfort. Had Hugo’s death deprived her in some underhand way, of faith in her entitlement to real affection and would all her future relationships be predicated on the expectation of loss?

  Robert was sound asleep when she got home but there was a note on the table to say that Semese had rung. Min felt her heart miss a beat. It was too late to ring him back so she would have to spend at least twelve hours on tenterhooks, wondering if he had news of Michael.

  Chapter 89

  When Michael didn’t return to the hostel in the evening the manager thought it was strange that he hadn’t let them know of this possibility. However he knew that Michael had warm clothing and a thermos of coffee as well as sandwiches which they had prepared for him before he left.

  In the morning, he and his wife waited until midday to let the police know because the traveller might turn up at any moment and the mist had covered the peaks again overnight. A group of local search and rescue volunteers prepared to set out as soon as it cleared. Being summer the temperature at that altitude was comparatively mild, they said.

  The previous afternoon when the mist had cleared and the sun dissipated his fear and cold Michael had climbed up further in search of snow. The breathtaking beauty of its increasing presence and clusters of tiny alpine flowers urged him onwards in spite of his laboured breathing. He stopped to eat the sandwiches and to finish the coffee. While he gazed up at the higher reaches where only the larger rock outcrops penetrated the snowy blanket, his mind became bewitched by the grandeur of his surroundings and self-preservation was being eclipsed by a sort of euphoric trance.

  He cupped his hands and called out in
choate sounds like ‘oyee’, and then

  ‘Where is everybody?’ There was a tiny echo quickly muffled but no other sound and he called again,

  ‘Heaven - how far is it?’ He laughed quietly and stamped his numbing feet from time to time and then stretched his arms above his head. What looked like a gesture of supplication was intended to help his circulation. He began to sing hymns in a booming voice and then clapped his hands in applause after each fully remembered verse. His father’s favourite - Faith of Our Fathers, with its jerky intervals - kept him occupied for at least ten minutes. He had trouble with the line - “In spite of Dungeon, Fire and Sword,” and resorted to “Rhubarb, Fire and Sword” until his brain released the word “Dungeon” from its memory bank. He thought about the word. “Dung Eon” or “No Egnud:” as it would appear backwards. It was strange to think about a word in a new way as if the brain was seeing it for the first time. He sat down on a smooth rock to see how many other words he could form from the seven letters and ‘one - gone - den - doge – dune – nun – nudge and nog’ came to him without much effort. A brief triumphal urge made him stand up but he staggered forward and when he put his arm out to steady himself there was nothing to stop his fall. A shock went through his body and he lay still with closed eyes.

  ‘Where am I?’ he mumbled. Confused notions of leaving the path of righteousness while pursuing his own lonely road, interfered with urgent rational thought and the search for a way out of his situation. Resignation to the inevitability of destiny flooded his soul which had ached for so long that he craved deliverance from its pain.

  When a sudden shivering engulfed his body he realised in an instinctual flash that he must maintain his core temperature for the sake of his vital organs. He set about opening his backpack but his hands were too clumsy to manipulate the buckle. When he finally managed to grope inside it and pull out his waterproof anorak he struggled to put it on over his merino wool jumper which had almost overheated him earlier in his climb.

  These near futile contortions exhausted him and he groaned breathlessly. Then with feeble anger, he made another attempt to put the anorak on and managed to put one arm in a sleeve before he lay down again and closed his eyes to recover some energy. When he opened his eyes with a mighty effort he saw that a mist was swirling soundlessly around him and he was enclosed in its whiteness. He tried to clench his muscles to sound out his legs which he was remembering, but there was no sensory response. If only he could see through the white womb all around him and fend off the confusion.

  Quite suddenly, the desperate need to sleep overwhelmed him and it was accompanied by a promise of waking to a new vision of truth and salvation. Further struggle was no longer called for because finally he was justified and could enter a realm of peace.

  He heard a slight rustling sound and the image of a tall figure in a flowing kaftan and semi-defined in the whiteness, imprinted itself on his retina. He had a sensation of being lifted up.

  ‘Leave me,’ he thought with a last mental thrust as his leaden being embraced the oblivion where dreams play no more part.

  When the party of four had set out to look for Michael more than twenty- four hours after he had left, two took one path, while the others followed the other likely path and each pair carried a two-way radio and a thermal blanket. Human survival was their business and the frenzy of the season of getting and spending took second place to that. They more than most knew the fatal attraction of the mountains and their great hope was to find their quarry and then, and only then would they celebrate this Christmas.

  Meanwhile on the plains below, the pullulating crowds were surging through the midsummer heat in a last mad dash to equip themselves with haphazard purchases and boards groaning with unseasonal food. Eventually, after the tolling of midnight bells and the singing of antique songs a soporific calm would descend on the land now replete with food and drink and encumbered by trinkets, while far above, the uncompromising peaks cradled their solitary pilgrim in peace.

  Chapter 90

  Min rang the hospital the next day and was told that Semese was attending a funeral in his village. It meant another wait and she found it hard to concentrate on the reports which she was busy writing. She went to Gerard’s café in the afternoon to sit in the window and recall the times when she and Michael had met there. Gerard was busy with a large group of tourists from Australia who were full of loud praise for his brew. He glanced at Min occasionally as if to say he was sorry he couldn’t talk but she was contented enough to watch him performing his rites and to look out at the now peaceful lagoon. This was where they had looked at the photos of Michael’s holiday in New Zealand and she had hoped that he would visit her there one day after her return. There was so much more to talk about and learn.

  Semese had some interesting information gleaned from a visiting Australian doctor who, in answer to his enquiries about his colleague was able to tell him that there was a hearing scheduled for early in the new year in connection with unprofessional conduct. He hadn’t recognised the name but when Michael’s name was mentioned he said that he was fairly sure that was the one. Semese asked him what was likely to happen and the answer was non-committal.

  When he told Min what he knew, she agreed that Michael was likely to put his case as he saw it and try to argue its compassionate validity even knowing the likely consequences. Robert shared Min’s anxiety and wondered why there had been no word from the man himself.

  ‘He must feel trapped in a sort of vortex.’

  ‘It’s the sanctity of life at all costs,’ said Min, ‘but if someone refuses to go to war because they will not kill, it’s a different matter.’

  Robert pointed out that war is self defence on a terrestrial scale and enforces its own moral code.

  ‘Yes,’ said Min with narrowed eyes. ‘You’re likely to be shot for refusing to kill.’

  Her nights were more sleepless than ever as she tried to imagine what Michael was doing and thinking. She was about to leave for home and wished she had a contact number so she could make a quick trip to Melbourne to see him and hear his latest news. Robert had asked her to visit his mother in Wellington and she was looking forward to meeting her. She wondered about putting her in touch with her own mother after so long. No doubt their paths had diverged too much.

  Polly and Jim came over for a last meal before she left and Semese joined them. Inevitably the conversation turned to Michael and the friendships which they all hoped would last. Semese suggested that they make a tentative date for a reunion within five years and he could be the facilitator. The idea was received with enthusiasm and Robert said he’d pass it on to Dinah.

  It was not long after that, that the phone rang and he answered it. Everyone stopped to find out who it was. Robert mouthed the word DINAH and there was a joint raising of eyebrows. When they heard him say ‘Fucking horrendous,’ they assumed it was in reply to a question about the cyclone. Min glanced at Semese who simply flicked his eyebrows.

  Robert explained that they were having a farewell meal and had just more or less agreed to arrange a get-together at some future date, but they were also concerned about Michael because there had been no word recently.

  ‘That’s one of the reasons why I’m ringing actually.’

  ‘Have you been in touch?’

  ‘No - but - and it’s a big but - there was an item on the national news about a body being found in the mountains down south.’

  ‘Why would you connect that with Michael?’

  ‘It’s bizarre I know, but I had this strong intuition. OK - it is far-fetched and I hope I’m completely wrong. But I needed to talk to you. Are you living with Min? I’ve tried the old number several times and it’s been disconnected. And now you answer her phone. What conclusion should I draw?’

  Robert felt uncomfortable and his audience was restive with questions so he took Dinah’s number again and promised to ring her the next day.

  ‘I’ll try and find out more and please all
ow plenty of time to talk Rob dear.’

  When Robert hung up he said simply,

  ‘That was Dinah.’

  When he didn’t elaborate they all wondered what Dinah had said, provoking his one-sided remarks. Min looked at him expectantly but he was not forthcoming so she decided to wait till later.

  It was much later after the others had left that Min prised the information out of Robert. Her reaction was predictable.

  ‘Why on earth would that be Michael? It’s ridiculous and I wish Dinah hadn’t rung.’

  ‘Well,’ said Robert, rather apologetically. ‘She’s been ringing the old number and when I answered this phone she put two and two together. She’s been wondering where I was.’

  They stayed up late talking about other people’s presumptions and how their absent-mindedness since the cyclone had changed their focus to fundamentals of life and death. Robert smiled at Min and asked her if they were still in shock. She thought about her episode chez Gerard and knew that her perspective had altered radically.

  ‘I am finding it hard to resume normal functioning so perhaps we are.’ She waited for him to reply but he put his head in his hands. Perhaps he was feeling depressed and lonely. So much had happened in the last few months.

  ‘But while there’s life there’s hope I suppose,’ she heard herself say, in one of those moments when an idea disguised as a glib platitude, expresses a deep wish.

  ‘I wish Dinah had spared us this unlikely suspicion,’ Robert sounded earnest as he got up to kiss Min goodnight. She returned the kiss saying,

  ‘Me too.’

  Once all was quiet again Min went outside to let her mind wander at will. There was no moon but the sky was peppered with those twinkling specks which put her in her place. She must be content with mysteries beyond her powers of understanding and settle for the gift of witnessing their existence. Before long she began to see Michael’s destiny in the context of infinity so she went inside to sleep with that small comfort.

  Coda

  A vestige of the primordial forest blanket which had once covered all the islands of New Zealand before the advent of animals (including that bipedal species devoted to agriculture), still spread its impenetrable fabric over the south western corner of the south island. The incursive power of humankind had met its match in the dense rainforest where over the millennia, birds had claimed the fastness as their own where they strode and flew about fearlessly.