Breaking Connections

by Albert Wendt

  She took her plastic fork and was going to start eating when she felt a disapproving silence focus on her. She stopped and bowed her head. Daniel caught her faux pas, and felt good about it: yes, she was too Palagi for him to be so attracted to her! He bowed his head as Mere said a short karakia blessing their food, fellowship and whānau. He glanced up at Laura, but she refused to look at him as she started eating. Good.

  Laura, as usual, said little, but listened to the various conversations around the table. Most of the people were Polynesian and weren’t considered whānau, but, through friendship, they could join the circle. Laura noticed more and more of them over the next few months. Wherever they went, the whānau as a unit was like a magnet, attracting the curiosity and attention of many young people. She also noticed that the power repelled many, mainly Pākehā, who kept their distance but maintained surveillance of the whānau, as if they were afraid of it. Much of it, she now saw, was the racism she had grown up with and, because it permeated everything, hadn’t recognised. Now, as she got to know the whānau and their families, it angered her; filled her with guilty remorse, humiliation and the need to erase it.

  ‘You asked her out yet?’ Daniel heard Aaron asking. He hesitated, resenting Aaron for intruding into his privacy. He hesitated and then shook his head. ‘She’s Palagi, remember?’ he reiterated the unwritten rule.

  ‘There’s a clause to the rule, bro, and you know it because you’ve taken many a Pākehā woman to bed, so to speak like Will Shakespeare’.

  Annoyed, cornered, Daniel challenged him. ‘So sex is allowed but not commitment and alofa?’ Grinning, Aaron nodded once, twice, three times. ‘Fuck you!’ Daniel muttered. ‘What about Mere’s edict that we allow Laura into our circle?’

  ‘What if Mere wants her in for other reasons?’

  ‘What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?’ Daniel demanded, and earned almost everyone’s attention. Alarmed because Daniel was on his feet and shaking, Laura looked at Mere for her intervention. ‘C’mon, twisted Aaron, what’s that supposed to mean?’ Laura clutched Mere’s sleeve when she saw Aaron rise to his feet, refusing to back off.

  ‘That’s it, guys!’ Mere ordered. ‘Thank Laura for your lunch. Now.’ There was an expectant silence. They waited, waited, then Aaron’s body relaxed and he reached over and, grasping Daniel’s trembling hand, stilled it. There was an audible collective sigh of relief, and Laura pressed Mere’s arm in gratitude.

  ‘Sorry, bro,’ Aaron whispered. Daniel jabbed him playfully in the chest, and they continued eating as if nothing had happened. It was the first time Laura had witnessed what would become, over the years, a familiar and frightening contradiction in Aaron’s personality. As Mere described it, ‘He will love you full speed, unconditionally, and to the death, yet some devil inside him will, at times, drive him to hurt you.’

  13

  Laura had already met Tasi and Lemu, Daniel’s parents, twice at whānau functions, but she was full of trepidation, yet eager to be in Daniel’s home for the first time. She tried to control her breathlessness as she followed Mere out of the car and up the front steps of the house, as evening gripped the city. Lemu’s birthday party awaited them inside.

  Tasi was difficult to read. Laura found her loquacious amiability and unique way of using English to mimic others quite intimidating. She had to admit to herself, though, that this view was framed by Mere and the others having described Tasi as a gifted imitator and actor: the best. But she recognised where Daniel had inherited his love of movies and literature from. On the other hand, he got his carefully considerate and observant manner from his father.

  Over the previous months, mainly in the weekends, whenever one of the families in the Tribe had a function, such as Sunday lunch, a barbecue, a birthday or an anniversary, Laura had been invited; at first by Mere, then by Aaron and then the others. She’d maintained a reserved, smiling but respectful demeanor, and copied the ways Mere, in particular, behaved with and served the elders. That quickly earned her their trust. It was special, very special. She prided herself on it, because only a few other Pākehā women were ever invited, and most never appeared more than once.

  Outside the whānau circle, of course, Aaron, Paul, Keith and Daniel didn’t bother to hide their affairs with non-Tribe women, including Pākehā. Laura deliberately ignored Daniel’s participation in those, but she couldn’t deny the pain she suffered whenever it happened. Mere helped by not ever mentioning anything about them to her. Now she was to enter Daniel’s home and be hosted by the intimidating Tasi and the reserved Lemu.

  She unbuttoned her coat and pulled off her scarf. Mere rang the doorbell. The metallic bbrringging of it scraped jarringly across Laura’s taut nerves. Breathe in deeply, once, hold, release.

  The door swung back and there, in the framed doorway light, brilliantly outlined, was Tasi in an almost luminous crimson puletasi and long feathered earrings. Her tightly tied-back hair was glossy with oil, and she had on black lipstick and a smile into which Laura felt she could walk and be completely safe. ‘Mere, my darling,’ she greeted, gathering Mere into a tight embrace. ‘Your mum’s here already. And Laura, my beautiful Laura!’ Laura, all defences down, moved into Tasi’s embrace and the heady scent of perfume. ‘Haere mai, sūsū mai into our humble house.’

  Mere moved ahead, while Tasi, arm round Laura’s waist, pushed her gently along a corridor of framed family photographs and through the scrumptious smell of food.

  Once they were in the sitting room, lit by lamps standing in all the corners, Tasi stood between Mere and Laura and in her usual dramatic way introduced them: ‘This most beautiful woman Mere need no intro!’ Mere bowed her head and curtsied in an exaggerated manner. ‘She should be a film star like Ava Gardner,’ Tasi announced. The others laughed.

  ‘Who’s that?’ Mere joked.

  ‘My favourite actress before you even born. But you look like her,’ Tasi countered. ‘And you all know Laura too: she as beautiful as Grace Kelly, right?’

  Mahina and some of the others called, ‘Right!’ Laura was now used to the continuous kidding that laced all these functions – it seemed a way of life – and she enjoyed it and wished to be as agile at it as they all were.

  She and Mere went round the room to hongi and kiss everyone: Mahina and Ropata, Mere’s brother; Mabel, Aaron’s mother, and his sister Ripeka, and brother Mason; Paul’s parents and Cherie, his girlfriend; Keith’s Niuean girlfriend Langi and Keith’s adopted parents; and people she’d not met at previous whānau functions. Tasi announced that if you wanted a drink you had to go into the dining room, where Daniel and Aaron were serving them.

  The sitting room, she observed as she went around, was also walled with family photographs, which were necklaced with brightly coloured paper and plastic ‘ula. Many of them were of Daniel, from what looked like the day he was born to fairly recent times. In most of them, though he was smiling and looking confident, Laura sensed he hadn’t wanted to be photographed. In the few photographs of him and Lemu, Daniel looked as if he was ready to defend his father from threats outside the frames.

  Daniel’s belly churned with tension as soon as he heard his mother welcoming Mere and Laura at the front door. He’d been deeply upset when his mother had informed him she’d asked Mere to invite Laura. His determination not to be bothered by Laura melted. Shit! But he wasn’t going to show it. He drained his beer and Aaron refilled his glass. ‘Hey, mate, slow down! We’re the barmen, and your mum’s not going to like it if you get drunk before the guests,’ Aaron cautioned him.

  ‘I’m so bloody thirsty from rugby practice,’ he excused himself.

  ‘And as you know, I don’t like talking to people who get sozzled at parties and talk boring, unintelligible shit which they think is brilliant!’ Aaron laughed. Aaron didn’t usually drink more than three beers. In the early days, they’d tried to humiliate him into joining their binge drinking, but he’d res
isted politely. When Paul had pressured him further, calling him a poofter, he’d simply told them: ‘Guys, please stop doing that.’ None of them dared after that.

  ‘Hell, Aaron, no wonder my mum tells every one: “Aaron he the best son ’cause he don’t drink till the bloody cows come home”!’

  ‘Too right, mate,’ Aaron said.

  Paul, Cherie, Keith and Langi entered and moved up to the bar. ‘Need any help?’ Paul asked.

  ‘Yeah, just keep my fellow barman from drinking too much tonight,’ Aaron suggested.

  ‘Laura can do that,’ Keith said. The two women laughed.

  ‘I’m not interested!’ Daniel was adamant, and raised his glass to his mouth, but Aaron caught it and shook his head. Daniel put the glass back on the table. The others told them what they wanted to drink, and he and Aaron started filling their orders.

  ‘Laura’s lovely, Dan,’ Cherie tested him.

  ‘Yes, Dan, we like her a lot,’ Langi added.

  ‘Hi, guys!’ Mere called from the door, and she and Laura headed for the bar.

  Daniel was the first to hongi and kiss Mere, and then he picked up his tray of drinks and hurried past Laura towards the sitting room. He wasn’t going to be caught alone with Laura, especially if his mother was in sight. But when he glimpsed the surprised hurt look in Laura’s gaze as he slid past her, the churning started in his belly again.

  Laura glanced at the others, sensing they’d seen the pain in her reaction to Daniel’s dismissal.

  ‘Here’s your vodka and tonic,’ Aaron saved her. ‘I never forget people’s drinks.’ She thanked him and took a solid sip of her drink. ‘And here’s your bloody awful rum and lemonade, Mary, American sister of mine.’ He bowed to Mere and she tapped him on the shoulder and said:

  ‘Careful, you’re just jealous I’m a real American …’

  ‘Like Jack Palance in Shane,’ Tasi intruded, and they all laughed, as she swept over to them. ‘How’s aboud a large gin and tonic for this cowgirl, Arona?’ The attention having shifted away from her, Laura felt composed again, at the edge of the whānau, unimportant.

  ‘Here’s to the most beautiful cowgirl in Freemans Bay!’ Keith toasted, raising his glass.

  ‘Too right, King of Niue. Cheers!’ Tasi declared, and they all raised their glasses and drank, Laura was again caught in the imperious aura of Tasi’s personality. Unconsciously she reacted by wondering where Lemu was. After all this was his birthday.

  When the others, with Tasi at the centre, were fully engaged in their light bantering, Laura slid out of the room.

  Hearing people in the kitchen, she cautiously entered, hoping to find Lemu (and Daniel). The enticing smells of cooked food slid into her nostrils and fished up her hunger – she’d only had a light breakfast that day.

  Lemu had his back to her. He was stirring a large steaming pot of what she identified from the smell as sapasui, and talking in Samoan over his shoulder to a deeply suntanned middle-aged man, with a wrinkled face, sparse hair and badly cataracted eyes that swivelled to her as soon as she stepped into the room. ‘Kalofa.’ Laura heard herself trying to pronounce the greeting correctly.

  ‘Kalofa,’ the man said, formally.

  Lemu turned round. Seeing her, he hesitated, and then said, ‘Kalofa, Laura.’ Laura was delighted he’d remembered her name. ‘Sau i kokogu, inside, come inside.’ He beckoned her to the table where his friend was sitting and which was laden with all sorts of food. She hurried over to it.

  The man pulled out the chair next to him, and she sat down in it. He then picked up his mug of beer and drained it smoothly. Lemu picked up his own and, raising it to Laura, nodded, so she raised her vodka and tonic and they drank together. As the smooth icy liquid tingled down Laura’s throat and into her centre it opened up her hopes that Lemu would lower his defences and allow her into his shelter, his affections. ‘You good cook, Laura?’ Lemu smiled and asked. His friend looked interested in Laura’s reaction.

  ‘No, I’m hopeless, but I’m a good eater,’ she replied.

  ‘We, Samoans, we very good eaters,’ Lemu said. His friend chuckled, guffawed, his light spittle sprinkling the table. ‘We eat most food in huge amounts. You know, like the giant.’

  As they talked, Laura observed that Lemu’s shy gestures, his oblique mannerisms, the way he scrutinised her without appearing to be doing so, and his being apologetic about his presence reminded her of Daniel – without the apology. ‘How can I help?’ she asked when Lemu went back to the stove.

  ‘Perhaps you go with Tanielu and set the table,’ he suggested. He opened a top cupboard, got out a tablecloth, and handed it to her. She got out the cutlery and crockery from the cupboards and drawers he indicated. She hoped Daniel wasn’t going to come in to help.

  When she took the tablecloth and mats into the dining room, Mere and the other women helped her set the table. They followed her into the kitchen and brought out other things, praising Lemu as they did so for his cooking. The fourth time Laura returned to the kitchen, Lemu’s companion squinted at her, from under lowered eyebrows, and said, ‘My name is Pati. I am Lemu’s brother.’ She shook his hand.

  ‘He my brother from our village Malie,’ Lemu added. ‘Just visiting.’

  ‘You come one day and stay in our village, okay?’ Pati said.

  ‘I promise,’ Laura said, meaning it.

  The rich, rich, hypnotic aromas of the various dishes exploded as soon as Lemu opened the pots and dished their contents into the serving dishes, and swept through the house when Laura and her helpers carried the dishes to the dining table.

  When she returned to the kitchen, Daniel was beside his Uncle Pati, instructing his father to go and get dressed properly for his birthday meal. ‘Laura, you think I not dressed good for my party?’ Lemu asked her. He wore a long-sleeved blue woollen shirt, grey trousers and worn-out sports shoes.

  Daniel tensed, believing Laura had even squirmed her devious way into his father’s affection. ‘Dad, you know how Mum is going to react if she sees you at the table like that,’ he intervened. Laura knew he was deliberately ignoring her, and that hurt, but she wasn’t going to be involved in whatever battle was occurring between Daniel’s parents.

  ‘Fai i lou kigā e pule Lemu i le aiga legei!’ Uncle Pati’s voice was a blade cutting into Daniel’s concern about his mother. Though Laura didn’t understand Samoan, she sensed Uncle Pati’s intervention was an order, and Daniel backed off.

  ‘Laura, you take Pati into the dining room,’ Lemu told her. ‘I go and get dressed better.’ He left before his brother could object.

  Uncle Pati banged his empty mug down on the table and ordered Daniel to refill it. While Daniel did so, he resented Laura more – now she was in his uncle’s affections too.

  ‘Ka ō,’ Uncle Pati invited Laura, getting to his feet and shuffling towards the door. She walked with him, and, as they crossed the corridor into the dining room, he whispered, ‘You are good to my brother, Laura.’

  Tasi was standing at the middle of the other side of table, and beside her were Aaron, Paul and Keith. Opposite them, the elders filled the rest of the spacious room, some seated in chairs and the rest standing behind them. Laura moved to stand with Mere and the other young women, but Uncle Pati tugged at her hand and made her stop beside him. Uncle Pati refused to sit in the chair Paul brought for him. Daniel entered and went and stood between Aaron and Keith.

  ‘Where’s the birthday boy?’ Mahina asked.

  ‘Yes, where is he?’ the other elders chorused.

  Daniel could feel his mother tensing, so he said: ‘Dad’ll be back in a minute; he’s having a shave so his razor-sharp bristles won’t cut those who are going to rush him madly and hongi him!’ Mahina and the other elders laughed. He sighed inaudibly when he saw the tension ease from his mother.

  ‘I’m certainly going to rush him,’ Mere offered. ‘He�
��s the handsomest man here!’ That eased the tension and awkwardness more.

  ‘He may be the handsomest joker here, but we Niueans don’t hongi any more,’ Keith said.

  ‘You’re not a real Niuean, bro!’ Langi improved on the joke. ‘So you don’t know what a real hongi is.’

  ‘And is that Niueans pressing their knees together?’ Aaron topped it all. The whole room, including Tasi, exploded with laughter.

  When it subsided, Mahina said, ‘For us civilised Māori, it is not pressing our knees together, because we’re not scared of sex, but pressing our foreheads and noses together, because we love bad breath!’ The laughter resumed at a higher pitch.

  Laura saw Lemu hesitate in the doorway, baffled by the storm of laughter. He was as handsome as his son in his blue tailored ‘ie faitaga, red aloha shirt with a black vest over it, and black sandals. Grinning shyly, he entered.

  ‘Here’s the handsome birthday boy!’ Daniel greeted him.

  ‘About time!’ Tasi declared.

  ‘Auē, I don’t give a damn how late he is; he’s the most ka pai man in this room!’ Mahina rushed over and, crushing him to her chest, kissed him on the cheek.

  As Daniel watched the others going up one by one to hongi and kiss his father, he wanted to stop the insidious feeling of sadness that was brimming up from the centre of his belly and threatening to fill all of him. Every time he glanced at his mother, who appeared fully immersed in the rollicking humour and joy of the party, the sadness spread faster. He looked at Laura and found her also pretending full participation in the fun. He watched his Uncle Pati break from Laura and, trying not to appear drunk, move up to Lemu. They embraced in genuine alofa. The room fell quiet, and Daniel knew what his mother was going to do, so, to stop her, he rushed over to his father and uncle and wound his arms around them.