Song of the Sound

by Jeff Gulvin

  ‘Coffee sounds wonderful.’ She smiled. ‘It’s good to see you, John-Cody.’

  ‘Good to see you too.’ John-Cody pulled out from the parking space.

  ‘Thanks for looking after Bree.’

  ‘I only did a couple of nights.’

  ‘Yes, I know. But it was nice to know you were around last night, especially with that storm blowing.’

  ‘That was a monster, wasn’t it?’ John-Cody peered through the windscreen at the sky where patches of blue were penetrating the cloud in places now. The wind was still in the air but much less fierce and the bulk of the rain had blown inland to batter Otago. They parked outside the small arcade of shops. John-Cody bought coffee and they sat by the fire in the corner.

  ‘So how was Supper Cove this trip?’ he asked her.

  ‘Well, I told you about the dead dolphin. I’ve got the teeth and stuff back at the hut. I completely forgot to bring them out for analysis.’

  ‘They’ll keep.’

  Libby stretched. ‘It’s lonely in there. I don’t mind telling you, John-Cody, a girl gets stuck for company.’

  He thought back over the past year in Doubtful Sound when he had lived on the Korimako, trawling the fiord by day and anchoring at night in Hall’s Arm or Precipice Cove or out by the islands, with nothing but his memories and pain for company.

  ‘I saw Pole,’ Libby said. ‘I tried to tell you last night, but I didn’t know if the skipper of the Huckleberry was friends with him or not.’

  John-Cody nodded. ‘I understood where you were coming from.’

  ‘He came racing up the channel when I was monitoring echolocation clicks.’

  ‘Before I forget,’ he interrupted her. ‘Bree’s having tea with Hunter Caldwell today.’

  Libby wrinkled her brow. ‘Who’s Hunter Caldwell?’

  He smiled then and sat back. ‘He’s a kid from her school. His parents farm up on Blackmount. I hope you don’t mind, especially as you’ve only just got back.’

  Libby shrugged. ‘If it makes Bree happy, how can I mind?’ She looked at him then. ‘Does it make her happy?’

  ‘Well, she was pretty up for the idea, put it like that. And she knew you were coming home today.’

  Libby made a face. ‘She sounded down when I talked to her last night. Have you noticed anything?’

  ‘No, not especially.’

  ‘I get so worried about her.’

  John-Cody leaned across the table then and touched the back of her hand. ‘Don’t, Libby. She’s fine. And she really wanted to go.’

  ‘Are we talking a boyfriend or something?’

  ‘I don’t know. You’ll have to ask her that.’

  Libby sighed then. ‘I do worry though, when I’m down in Dusky. Normally I used to be there when she came home from school. These days I hardly see her at all. I can’t tell you how much I miss her.’

  ‘She misses you too, but you know what, you’re both all right. Bree’s got Alex and I’m around some of the time. And now she seems to have Hunter Caldwell too. She’s doing OK, Lib. Don’t beat yourself up about it.’

  She looked at him then, the softness in his eyes, the lines in his face, silver streaks running the length of his hair. She looked at his arms, taut with sinew and muscle; his scent reaching her across the table.

  She finished telling him about Pole. ‘I don’t know what the outcome will be and anything I find won’t be conclusive by any stretch of the imagination, but it is a start. The dolphins were hunting in range of the hydra-phone before Pole turned up and were gone as soon as he got there.’

  ‘That could just be coincidence.’

  ‘It could, yes. But my point is we don’t know. We won’t know without an in-depth study of the acoustics.’

  ‘You’re not going to get that in a hurry.’

  ‘I know. I’m not going to prove definitively that the pod is resident either. If Pole gets his surface water activity permit it might be too late anyway.’

  John-Cody blew out his cheeks. ‘You know, you’re the first person to show this level of concern in over a year.’

  ‘Surely not?’

  He nodded. ‘When Pole’s plans were first mooted a whole stack of people objected. But there’s serious money behind this deal, Libby. Work is hard to find round here; there’s not much in the winter and it’s tough even in the season. It’s a tourist town and the balance between economics and ecology is a precarious one.’ He leaned forward. ‘Pole singled out the submitters one by one and somehow he’s won them over. The offers of work that have been bandied about don’t bear thinking about. The only people who remained absolutely against the idea were Mahina and me.’ John-Cody compressed his lips. ‘DoC are against it in principle, but Pole’s even got his supporters there.’

  ‘Even though he operates without a marine mammal permit?’

  John-Cody sighed. ‘Technically none of us have them. They issued a few first time round, but we’re still waiting for renewals. Pole’s canny: he’s had his application in for a long time. But DoC have got their moratorium in force and Pole could argue he’s in exactly the same position as me.’ He sipped coffee. ‘Everything depends on the hearing at the regional council.’

  He explained to her about the submission process, how unless the council themselves had serious reservations they merely acted as arbitrators. If the submitters’ fears could be allayed by the party who sought the application, then invariably the permit was granted. If, however, the parties could not agree — as was the situation with Pole — then the case was heard in full council chamber, where lawyers could act on behalf of either party.

  ‘And this will go to a full hearing?’ Libby said.

  John-Cody nodded. ‘Pole’s spent the year since Mahina died trying to smooth his path. He’s done a pretty good job. I’m his last obstacle and he still thinks he can get by me.’

  ‘He can’t though, can he?’

  ‘Not in a million years.’

  They walked back to the truck and the sun was hot where it burst between the clouds. Crowds of tourists milled up and down the main street and a number of large tour buses were parked on Mokonui. Libby walked close beside John-Cody, delighting in his maleness, the ease she felt when she was with him. She could not quite put her finger on it but there was something about him that made her feel good about herself. She glanced at his face in profile, the lines about his jaw, the blue shadow where he had not shaved for a few days. They walked slowly and her elbow brushed his arm. The woman who ran one of the craft shops smiled at them and nodded to John-Cody. Everyone knew him. It made her feel good to be with him. She recognized two mothers from the school talking together in front of the sporting goods shop and they looked sideways, gave each other a quick glance and looked away again.

  Libby wound the window down and sat with her elbow resting on the sill while he backed out of the parking space and headed for the lakefront. He pulled over at the Southland Tours office to restack his brochures and did the same at the backpackers’ hostel across the road from the floatplane building.

  He dropped her outside the house then went down to the office where all was quiet. Alex told him that the weekend booking had been cancelled: the couple who had made the reservation had been involved in a car accident outside Queenstown. They were not critically injured but there was no way they would be able to make any kind of trip for a while. John-Cody rolled himself a cigarette, sitting on the porch, watching two canoeists on the lake. He had half promised Bree and Hunter that they could crew for him this weekend: the stores had been bought and the Korimako’s twin tanks were chock-full of diesel. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched Alex behind the counter, her face thin and grey, weariness in her eyes. ‘How d’you fancy shutting up shop this weekend?’ he asked her.

  Alex cocked an eyebrow at him. ‘It’s the middle of the season.’

  ‘So what?’ He stood up. ‘You look tired, Alex. Crook about the eyes. It’s my fault. You work your backside off all year and then get landed
with a twelve-year-old girl to look after.’

  ‘Are you offering me a holiday, boss?’

  ‘I’m offering you a weekend on the Korimako with Bree and Hunter. Libby too, if she wants to go.’

  Alex looked sideways at him. ‘You don’t think she would?’

  ‘I don’t know. She’s only just got back from Dusky.’

  ‘She’ll go.’ Alex leaned her elbows on the counter. ‘She’ll jump at the chance of spending some time with you.’

  John-Cody stared at her, feeling the colour leaking into his cheeks.

  ‘It’s true. She likes you, boss. She likes you a lot.’

  ‘You’re kidding me. How can you tell?’

  ‘It’s a girl thing. Don’t look so surprised, lots of women find you attractive.’

  John-Cody sat down on the couch and crossed his ankle on his knee. He stared at Alex, genuinely taken aback.

  ‘Do you mean you really haven’t noticed?’

  He shook his head.

  ‘You must be blind because everyone else has.’

  He thought about it then, the two women in the street just now with the knowing looks, the Grady sisters clucking round him since Mahina died. He closed his eyes at the memory.

  ‘It wouldn’t bother her.’

  He looked again at Alex.

  ‘Mahina: it wouldn’t bother her.’ Alex came round from behind the counter and sat down next to him. ‘Boss, if you don’t mind me saying so you’ve been a different person since Libby and Bree showed up. You were a pain in the butt till then. I mean, everyone understood your loss, but you hid over the hill for a whole year. That’s a long time. You were crummy company and you looked suicidal.’

  John-Cody could feel pain building in his breast. He wanted her to stop talking like this and yet at the same time he wanted her to go on. Alex took his hand.

  ‘You loved Mahina like nobody gets loved. The women in this town watched the way you loved her and despaired. I know what I’m talking about, boss. I’m one of them. Nobody gets loved that way any more, worshipped and cherished and treasured. She was the most precious thing in your life and everyone in the Te Anau basin knew it.’

  A lump had formed in John-Cody’s throat. ‘When she died part of me died with her, Alex. All I wanted to do was die.’ He sat up straighter. ‘You know, I spent months on the Korimako just wanting to put on my dive gear, head out to the Gut and jump over. I wanted to swim down into the blackness and not come up.’ He pursed his lips at the corners. ‘Swim till my air ran out and be too deep to make it back to the surface.’ He paused then. ‘I couldn’t, though, could I? I promised I’d scatter her ashes exactly a year after she died.’

  Alex nodded, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder. ‘That’s partly why she asked you.’

  He looked up at her.

  ‘Mahina loved you, boss. But she had a sense of mortality and immortality that you’ll never have. She knew it was time to go and she went with more dignity than anyone I can think of. She had a level of acceptance about things that most people never attain. She fought until the fight was over then she just accepted it for the reality it was and she died.’

  Tears rolled on his cheeks now, without a sound. John-Cody hadn’t heard anyone speak like this before, yet Alex’s face was gentle and full of understanding.

  ‘Mahina knew you might try and kill yourself, boss. That’s partly why she said what she did. It’s Maori tradition to watch over those who are left behind but rarely for as long as a year. The fuchsia and the bellbirds — of course she loved them: but I think she thought if you knew you had one final obligation to her you’d get through that year and maybe through it all.’

  John-Cody drew breath. ‘You know, I thought I was as low as I could get out there on the boat, but the real desolation hit me the moment I let her go.’

  Alex nodded. ‘For a while. But you had to come back here. You had to organize things for Libby and Bree. And you’ve done it. Heavens, you’ve even been back in the house.’ She lifted her eyebrows. ‘These past few nights with Bree.’

  ‘Bree’s a good girl. She’s had a tough life.’

  Alex beamed then. ‘Look at you, getting involved with it all. You’re moving on. I bet when you wake up each morning the ache isn’t quite so bad.’ Alex stood up then. ‘Mahina told you to let her go, boss. Maybe you finally should.’

  John-Cody drove to the nameless place, the track to Rainbow Reach halfway to Te Anau. He swung off the main road then pulled into a grassy space on the right, which overlooked the wetland loop that had once been part of the river. The cloud was pushed right back, like a cuticle at the edge of the sky, and the dome of the world burned powder blue above his head. He could feel the heat of summer through his clothes and a line of sweat gathered at his hairline. He leaned on the bonnet of the Ute and looked over the water at the island, green and black with manuka stands. The ground slipped away at his feet and he could see silver beech and cabbage trees and a tall thick-barked marbleleaf.

  Three black swans glided on the surface of the water, the pair who had mated for life and the last of their offspring, not yet willing to seek a life of its own.

  This was his place. He sat in the grass now and took out his tobacco. Mahina had her blue gum tree and favourite thinking stone, but the nameless place was his. He had called it that because it was not named on any map and the only people he had seen here were the occasional duck hunters in the season. Over the past couple of years even they seemed to have moved on.

  He made himself a smoke and stuck it against his lip without lighting it. He thought about all that Alex had told him: he thought about Mahina and he thought about Libby. It was a weird thing: he had not consciously thought about her, other than the practicalities of getting her boat down to Dusky and helping out with Bree. He smiled when he thought of Bree. The night before last, after they had spoken to Libby on the radio, he had played guitar and she had sung along. He enjoyed her company; she was bright and she had her own opinions. He had thought a lot about Bree but not really about Libby.

  He stared across the stillness and Mahina crowded his mind once again: her face, her eyes, the sound of her voice ringing inside his skull. But Alex was right, since he had come back here, faced things down and taken up some responsibility again, the pain was less acute. Maybe Mahina did fear what he might do when she died and made him promise accordingly. The one thing she knew he would do was keep a promise made to her.

  He looked across the water and saw a pair of plovers circle one another. The Wairau was tumbling over itself to get to Lake Manapouri, high with the recent rain. He could hear the water rushing, sucking at muddy banks, breaking free earth rich in minerals and carrying them downstream. Perhaps there really was life after Mahina: he still had this place, the silent beauty that was Fiordland. He had a wharf at Deep Cove and he had the Korimako. Nobody could take those from him now: he and Mahina had insured their lives in relation to the debt of the business. With her death he no longer owed any money and the recent trips that Alex had organized had pretty much been profit. That was a first in his lifetime. Pole could covet the boat and the wharf all he liked because he would never get them.

  He stood up feeling empowered all at once and was aware of a tingling sensation in his limbs. He felt strong, alive; vital suddenly to all that surrounded him. He was as much a part of this place as Mahina had been before him. All that she was she had imparted to him and now she was gone he was what stood between the land and people like Pole.

  Libby was in the garden lying on a blanket reading a novel. She wore a bikini top and cut-off jeans and her skin was tanned. Her hair was long and thick and black, reaching halfway down her back, loose now and sprinkled with perspiration. John-Cody stood for a few moments in the shade of the carport just watching her. He stepped onto the lawn, discarding his shoes, and the grass felt lush and deep under his bare feet. Libby too was barefoot and she rolled on her back and shaded her eyes when she saw him.

  ‘Can I make yo
u a cup of tea?’ he asked her.

  ‘You certainly can. I’d love one.’

  John-Cody looked up at the pigeon cooing softly in the topmost branches of the red beech. ‘This weekend,’ he said, ‘I sort of half promised Bree that she and Hunter could crew for me on the boat.’

  ‘That’s fine with me,’ Libby said.

  ‘Except the trip’s been cancelled.’ John-Cody crouched on his haunches next to the blanket. ‘So how would you fancy coming out for the weekend? I told Alex to shut up shop: we could get a ride across the lake with Tom when Bree finishes school. Come back Sunday night.’

  ‘You don’t have to do all that if the trip’s been cancelled.’

  ‘I want to.’ He made an open-handed gesture. ‘Would you like to come?’

  I’d love to.’

  ‘I thought you might be sick of the fiords by now.’

  Libby looked in his eyes and felt sudden warmth in her veins. ‘I’m sick of being alone in them. I love the fiords, John-Cody. But they’re much better with company.’

  They sat in the garden drinking tea and appreciating the sunshine. Libby watched the way he sipped from his cup and the way he took his tobacco in one hand, rolling the loose strands against his palm before setting them in paper. The sound of a car on the road outside broke the moment: two doors opened then footsteps crunched on the gravel drive. John-Cody looked up as Jonah’s massive frame blocked the sun for a moment. Jonah smiled at him and winked at Libby, standing with his hands on his hips. ‘I’ve brought someone to see you,’ he said.

  An old man shuffled from under the carport, stooped, head bent, leaning heavily on a stick. ‘Kobi.’ John-Cody jumped to his feet.

  The old man looked at him and scowled, but the scowl became a grin. ‘G’day, you old joker, I thought it was time I saw what you were doing down here.’

  John-Cody gave the old man a hug and Kobi patted his back with the twisted knots of his hands, then John-Cody, supporting him by the arm, introduced Libby. Kobi took his cap off and smiled at her.