White Lies

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White Lies Page 10

by Witi Ihimaera


  The pile of potatoes is still smoking.

  Close by, the burned bodies of the mother, brother and sister.

  Not too far away, the body of her grandfather.

  There is nothing left …

  Very slowly, as if emerging from a bad dream, Paraiti opens her eyes. Her face is damaged; her skin is charred and burnt.

  Shattered, Paraiti manages to stand.

  She walks slowly, observing the blackened carcass of what is revealed to have been a small Maori settlement that, until now, had basked in a vast and magnificent landscape on the edge of a beautiful blue lake.

  Paraiti runs away.

  EXT. FOREST — AFTERNOON

  Her face caked with dark mud, a blinded Paraiti runs, trying to find her way through a field of tall grasses.

  Her steps are guided only by the sound of the water of the unseen lake.

  Still blinded, she lowers herself down the lake’s bank, branch by branch, gripping whatever falls into her hands.

  Her feet sense the dampness of the lake’s edge.

  She slows her pace, and thrusts her face into the water to feel the lake’s cold embrace.

  FADE OUT.

  “WHITE LIES”

  FADE IN:

  EXT. MOUNTAINS / BUSH — DAY

  As if the gods can’t stop crying, an immense rain falls over a majestic range of mountains.

  Hurled by a furious wind, the drops of water rush from the tops of the ancient trees all the way down to the tender and humble moss that covers a narrow path of dirt.

  Everything is sprouting and green.

  Paraiti is now an older woman. From her forehead to her cheek, an enormous scar marks her aging face.

  Silently, she slowly walks through the bush in the rain, her only company a horse and a dog.

  Paraiti observes the greenery. She stops to pick some herbs, strangely enlaced in the branches of a bush.

  The work of her hands is subtle and careful, and she makes sure she does not disturb or damage the bush.

  She murmurs, seeming to converse with the plants as she tucks them away inside her father’s old kete.

  Then she continues her languid journey.

  EXT. TOP OF THE MOUNTAIN — AFTERNOON

  Paraiti emerges from the bush, followed by her dog and her horse.

  In the distance, down in a valley, a column of grey smoke rises from a small village into the intensely blue sky.

  Paraiti smiles and rides in the direction of the village.

  EXT. VILLAGE — EVENING

  Paraiti and her animals approach a small village.

  EXT. GATE OF HORIANA’S

  HOUSE — EVENING

  Paraiti and her animals arrive at the gate of a house surrounded by flowers.

  A young boy runs to her.

  YOUNG MOKOPUNA

  Kei te tomuri koe, Paraiti. Kua tae ke a Kuia Horiana ki te marae.

  SUBTITLE:

  You are late, Paraiti. Horiana’s already gone to the meeting house for the service.

  Knowing she is late, Paraiti moves as quickly as she can.

  EXT. ROAD TO MARAE — SUNSET

  Paraiti hurries towards the grounds of the marae.

  EXT. WHARE NUI — SUNSET

  The PIRIHIMANA is just about to go inside the meeting house when he sees Paraiti running late. He walks back to where the bell is and rings it again a few quick times.

  Paraiti approaches him as he gives her a welcoming blessing.

  As the blessing finishes, Paraiti rushes to the entrance of the meeting house.

  INT. WHARE NUI — SUNSET

  Aware she is late, Paraiti waits by the door for a second. She glances about until she spots a short, smiley, grey-haired woman, HORIANA, who is saving her a place.

  WIREPA, the Tohunga, is waiting to begin the service inside the meeting house.

  Paraiti sits beside Horiana.

  Only then does Wirepa begin the liturgy.

  WIREPA

  Ka whakakitea a Te Matua Tangata ki te maramatanga pono, ko te maramatanga pono ko te Anahera. E kakahu ana ki te kakahu ma ano tona rite ki te hukarere, ana makawe he whetu piataata, he karauna koura i te upoko, he parirau ana, tona hanga ki nga tai o te kopere.

  SUBTITLE:

  An angel appeared into the light to the prophet Te Kooti, and the angel was clothed in garments white as snow, his hair like twinkling stars, a crown of gold upon his head, his wings the colour of a rainbow.

  The people listen to the words of Wirepa.

  Women and men, old and young, are all submerged in sacred silence.

  WIREPA

  Katahi ka korero, E kore au e whakarere i taku iwi, me taku iwi ano. Koinei te maramatanga pono o te Haahi, Kororia tona ingoa tapu.

  SUBTITLE:

  And the angel said to the prophet, ‘I will not forsake my people nor will my people be forsaken.’ This is the revelation of our faith. Glory be to Thy holy name.

  Everyone in the meeting house repeats the words, raising their hands.

  WIREPA AND EVERYONE

  Amine.

  SUBTITLE:

  Amen.

  FADE OUT.

  FADE IN:

  EXT. WHARE NUI — MORNING

  It’s pouring with rain.

  Horiana is seated by the entrance of the meeting house.

  Not too far away, Oti, the dog, attentively waits.

  A YOUNG GIRL limps from the meeting house, holding a gourd bowl which she has used to clean the wound on her foot. She hands the gourd to Horiana who steps away and pours the bloody water into a larger container.

  The young girl goes away and Horiana sits by the large container, guarding it.

  INT. WHARE NUI — MORNING

  Paraiti sits by the pou tahu, the centre-front post of the meeting house. By her side, on a low table, rest a variety of medical utensils, some clearly European, others Maori. Visible are a mixture of scalpels, shells, obsidian shards, clean rags, dried gourd pots, potions, pharmaceutical concoctions, herbs and compositions.

  An EMACIATED OLD MAN, a CHILD with an eye infection, a WOMAN with swollen legs, a PREGNANT GIRL and a MATURE COUPLE sit patiently waiting to be seen by the medicine woman.

  Paraiti reviews the waiting group. She turns to the pregnant girl, AROHA, and motions for her to approach.

  The old woman with swollen legs reacts, upset, but one sharp look from Paraiti shuts her up.

  Aroha, not even 14, is pale with sunken eyes. In her childish, almost inaudible voice, she tells Paraiti:

  AROHA

  Koinei taku haputanga tuarua. Engari i whakatahe te mea tuatahi i mua noa atu i te tonga hanga o taku puku.

  SUBTITLE:

  This is the second time I have had a baby inside me.

  Paraiti listens as she examines Aroha’s fingernails and hair, the texture of her skin, the colour of her eyes.

  PARAITI

  He aha te korero a too whaea mo tenei? He aha ia i kore ai e haere mai ki too taha.

  SUBTITLE:

  What does your mother say about this?

  AROHA

  E whakawhanau ana taku mama i a ahau ka mate ia.

  SUBTITLE:

  My mother died when I was born.

  With care and tenderness, Paraiti helps Aroha recline on the cot and begins to auscultate [listen to] the girl’s lower belly.

  PARAITI

  Ehara koe i te tuatahi, otia i te whakamutunga o te pani whakawhaanau. Heoi ano, ko te mea tika kia whakawhiwhia koe ki tetahi kaiako. Ko ahau tena.

  SUBTITLE:

  Lay back. You are not the first, nor will you be the last orphan to give birth. All you need is someone to teach you. I am that teacher.

  Paraiti begins to softly massage Aroha’s belly.

  PARAITI

  O tatau ringaringa … he ako i a tatau pepe ki te korero otira maaku koe e ako. Na kua mohio koe ki te korero ki too tamaiti, ki te whakarongo hoki ki a ia. Ara ma o ringaringa katoa eena ahua.

  SUBTITLE:

  With our hands … We tea
ch our babies to speak to us … And I will show you how.

  Aroha gives her full concentration, paying attention to the movements Paraiti makes on her belly as if she wants to imprint them in her young memory.

  Paraiti invites Aroha to place her hands on top of Paraiti’s old and dry hands.

  Like fragile little paper ships, Aroha’s tiny hands make their way around her belly.

  PARAITI

  Ko te koopu o te wahine ko te ao tonu tena. Ko te kohao tena o te timatanga me te whakaotinga o nga mea katoa.

  SUBTITLE:

  The womb of a woman is the universe. The dark space where all things begin and are completed …

  Paraiti observes Aroha, then closes her eyes in silence.

  Aroha also closes her eyes.

  After a few seconds, feeling unsure, Aroha opens her eyes to check if Paraiti still has her eyes closed; she does. The doubting girl quickly closes her eyes again.

  Paraiti smiles and draws her hands away, leaving the girl’s hands poised on her own belly.

  PARAITI

  Ma too koopu e pae here too tamaiti ki te whenua ki te iwi. Otira mo ake tonu atu.

  SUBTITLE:

  Through your womb you will bond your child to the land and to the people. Forever.

  After a few seconds a smile comes across the girl’s face. Aroha laughs aloud, happy.

  AROHA

  Kai te whana pera i te whiore o te ika!

  SUBTITLE:

  It’s jumping around like a little fish!

  Amused, Aroha opens her eyes to see Paraiti returning a genuine, joyful smile. Paraiti reaches out and softly caresses the girl’s face.

  PARAITI

  Kai a koe ra te hua mana wahine o te whaea! A, mea rawa ake kua whakawhiwhia koe ki too tama … ki too kotira raanei … Hei tauawhi ki roto i o ringa.

  SUBTITLE:

  Soon you will have your child wrapped in your arms.

  Aroha closes her eyes once again and continues to massage her belly.

  Paraiti watches her for few moments.

  AROHA

  Kia tata atu ki taku whakawhanau mau pea ahau e awhina, e atawhai hoki.

  SUBTITLE:

  You can be with me the day my baby is born.

  PARAITI

  Ehe. Kaare e whakaae tia tena. He ture pakeha.

  SUBTITLE:

  No. That is forbidden … It is the white man’s law.

  The girl responds naturally.

  AROHA

  He aha ai kaare ano koe i mauhere hia?

  SUBTITLE:

  So why have they not put you in jail?

  Paraiti deflects.

  PARAITI

  Ko aaku mahi he maama noa iho, ara he waewae pupuhi, maruu, poroiwi whati, motu …

  SUBTITLE:

  What I do is only the very simple things, swollen legs and bruises, a broken bone, or a cut …

  Aroha turns her face away, disturbed and disappointed.

  PARAITI

  Kia kaha te kai, te katakata me te whakamahi i o ringaringa. Koina te ara e pakari ai to tu i te tu a te whaea otira e ora makohakoha ai too tamaiti.

  SUBTITLE:

  Eat well and laugh a lot and don’t stop with your hands. Your child will grow strong and healthy.

  She tenderly readjusts Aroha’s dress, helping her back to her feet.

  PARAITI

  He uaua tera ki te noho pani, te kore matua, engari kai too taha anoo o tipuna. Ahakoa kaare koe I te kite i a ratau. Ka manaaki tonu-hia koe e raatau, e marama ana ahau ki tena.

  SUBTITLE:

  I know how hard it is not having parents, but you have to know that your ancestors are with you. Even if you cannot see them, they are here, taking care of you.

  Aroha tries to smile.

  Paraiti returns her smile.

  AROHA

  Kia ora rawa atu, Paraiti.

  SUBTITLE:

  Thank you, Paraiti.

  The girl’s embrace catches Paraiti off-guard. She is evidently quite unused to such closeness.

  Paraiti separates herself from the girl’s embrace and walks her to the door.

  PARAITIK

  a pai noa iho nga mea katoa.

  SUBTITLE:

  Everything will work out fine.

  Before leaving the meeting house, Aroha briefly turns her childish face back to Paraiti and smiles at her with trust and gratitude.

  Paraiti watches the young girl leaving. There is sorrow in Paraiti’s smile.

  Seconds later, Horiana pokes her head in.

  Paraiti is lost in her thoughts.

  Horiana gives her a ‘wake-up’ sound.

  Paraiti snaps out of it and then calls Horiana to her side.

  PARAITI

  Me mau o taua whakaaro ki te kootiro ra. Me noho piri ia ki nga waahine, kia aro ai ki te kaupapa o te wharetangata. Maaku e waiho tena kia koe.

  SUBTITLE:

  We need to keep an eye on that girl. She must be among women and will need attention with her pregnancy. I’ll leave that to you.

  Horiana nods, kisses Paraiti’s hand with love and respect and motions for her to come out and have some fresh air.

  The two friends walk out away from the meeting house.

  PARAITI

  He ahua rite ia kia ahau, i te wa i ahau e pena ana te pakeke … Ahakoa kaare ahau i whiwhia hua.

  SUBTITLE:

  She reminds me of myself, when I was her age … Although I have never had a baby.

  Horiana smiles and gently rubs her friend’s hands.

  HORIANA

  Koia koia, he aroha tonu kore ki nga panipani!

  SUBTITLE:

  All orphans remind you of yourself!

  EXT. WHARE NUI — DAY

  It is raining.

  Paraiti and Horiana sit together. Something in the body language of the two women speaks to an old and close camaraderie.

  Horiana rises, preparing to fetch the next patient, but Paraiti stops her.

  PARAITI

  Kua rahi mo te ra nei. Kua pau taku hau. Tukuna te korero ki te hunga ra kua tata ahau te wehe atu ki te taone nunui mai konei mo te hiahia mea aa etahi.

  SUBTITLE:

  Enough for now. I’m tired. Let the people know that I’m on my way to town, in case someone needs something.

  Horiana goes towards the meeting house, leaving Paraiti resting outside. As soon as Oti notices her master is on her own, she approaches and leans her snout on her lap.

  Paraiti pats the dog’s back.

  HORIANA (OFF SCREEN)

  Apopo kai te hoki a Paraiti ki te taone. Na, ko nga mea he tono a ratau me tu ki tenei taha ko wetahi o koutou me hoki mai apopo.

  SUBTITLE:

  Paraiti needs a rest. If you want anything from town, tell me now.

  Amused, Paraiti overhears the old woman with swollen legs grumbling her protests.

  OLD WOMAN (OFF SCREEN)

  Kua roa ke ahau e noho ana i konei, Kua pau i ahau te ra!

  SUBTITLE:

  I have been waiting here all day!

  EXT. VILLAGE — DAY

  Paraiti leaves the village, her horse at her side and her dog following behind.

  EXT. MOUNTAINS — DAY

  Paraiti and her animals cross the mountain range; its colours and textures flow together.

  EXT. DEVASTATED LANDSCAPE — DAY

  The land is burnt and brown. No trees. No life.

  Paraiti walks slowly, as if crossing a haunted territory … Oti is very close by her side.

  The whistle of a distant train pierces the barren silence, bringing the sounds of the town.

  EXT. COMMERCIAL STREET

  TOWN — AFTERNOON

  Paraiti waits for the DOORMAN to open the doors.

  She leaves the shop carrying a few packages.

  Progressing through the urban streets, Paraiti’s gait is notably altered; clearly this is not her world. She’s not intimidated but a cautious air invests all her movements.

  She walks across the street to the movie theatre announcing
a Charlie Chaplin film. Not far from her, by the doorway of a chemist shop is a MAORI EMPLOYEE talking to MARAEA, a Maori woman of about 50, wearing a fastidious servant’s uniform and white gloves.

  Seconds later, a CHEMIST in a white smock bursts from the shop. He turns around and discovers the Maori employee whispering with the servant, Maraea.

  CHEMIST

  (To the EMPLOYEE)

  Ah! There you are! I don’t pay you to be chatting on the streets! Back to work!

  Paraiti slows her pace and silently witnesses how the chemist abuses the two Maori women.

  CHEMIST (CONT’D)

  (To MARAEA)

  If I see you again troubling my employees, I will report you to Mr Vickers! If you want to keep your job, you’d best stay away from here!

  For a brief moment, Paraiti and Maraea are face to face a few metres apart.

  Paraiti reacts and heads in the direction of the theatre.

  The chemist re-enters his pharmacy, roughly pushing past his young Maori employee.

  CHEMIST (CONT’D)

  (To the EMPLOYEE)

  Inside!

  Once the chemist has disappeared inside the shop, the employee runs towards Maraea and with a quick whisper points her finger in Paraiti’s direction.

  MAORI EMPLOYEE

  (To MARAEA)

  That’s Paraiti! She could help you …

  After that, she immediately turns and rushes back inside the chemist shop.

  Peering back from around a corner up ahead, Maraea’s eyes furtively follow Paraiti until she disappears into the theatre lobby.

  EXT. MOVIE THEATRE — AFTERNOON

  Paraiti enters the theatre.

  A big publicity stand announces the screening of The Kid.

  INT. MOVIE THEATRE /

  LOBBY — AFTERNOON

  Paraiti enters the theatre lobby.

  Arranging her packages on the elegant lobby seats, she waits for the ticket booth to open.

  Maraea appears and, half-hidden behind the main door to the lobby, she looks for Paraiti. Maraea meekly crosses the lobby and heads towards Paraiti.

  She takes a seat next to Paraiti and speaks rapidly, casting her eyes low, like a servant.

  MARAEA

  You must be Paraiti? May I trouble you?

  Paraiti’s only response is to listen.

  MARAEA (CONT’D)

  I have a mistress who needs a job done.

  PARAITI

  A tena he rite ano too wahine rangatira kia tatau?

  SUBTITLE:

  Is your mistress one of us?

  MARAEA

  No … My mistress is Mrs Rebecca Vickers.

  Paraiti doesn’t take her eyes off Maraea.

 

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