by Baker Chris
‘We can help you,’ he said after a dramatic pause. ‘But you have to help us too.’
‘How can I do that? What could I have that could be of use?’
‘Simple,’ he said. ‘You just open yourself up to us. You submit.’
‘I’m going to be a Sunbeam,’ Cheryl told Hoheria and Kevin that evening when they were camped on an old sports ground opposite the church.
‘What’s that when it’s at home?’ said Kevin. ‘Sounds like a flash new detergent.’ He turned back to the fish he was filleting, ready to cook for their meal.
‘Don’t listen to him,’ Hoheria said. ‘He doesn’t believe in anything.’
Yes I do, thought Kevin. I believe in taniwha. And the Maeroero. And Ponaturi, I suppose. But I don’t believe in that sleazy bastard. How come you do?
‘He wants something,’ Kevin said. ‘I don’t need to be a rocket scientist to figure out what, either. I don’t trust the prick.’ He placed a frypan on the coals and poured in a little oil. When it started to smoke he dropped in the fillets, three at a time, frying them quickly and flipping them with a spatula he’d carved from a piece of willow. When he put the pan down on the grass, he noticed Cheryl looking askance at the beaked and clawed bush creature he’d made of the handle.
‘That’s probably demonic,’ she said, pointing.
‘If you don’t tell, I won’t,’ replied Kevin. He finished frying the fish and turned to Cheryl. ‘D’you reckon it’ll ruin your chances of being a Sunbeam if Reverend Wilks sees it?’ He laughed as he passed Cheryl two fillets on a tin plate, adding a baked potato from the ashes. ‘He’ll probably think he’s saving you from Hoheria and me.’ Kevin turned back to Hoheria, then slumped sideways. Hoheria caught him and turned to Cheryl.
‘He has these dreams,’ she said, and started to explain about the Ponaturi but then thought better of it.
Next day when the three called at the church, Reverend Wilks invited them for lunch.
‘This sure beats fish-head stew,’ Kevin said as he tucked into roast pork. Two of the Sunbeams waited on them, bringing plates and dishes to and from the table. Reverend Wilks carved the roast, first praying over the food.
‘Enjoy it, son,’ he said as he passed a slice of pork. ‘We don’t need to be suffering sinners all the time.’
What would you know about suffering, Kevin thought, as he noted the tightness of Reverend Wilks’ smile, a tightness that vanished as it was turned on Cheryl who hastily dabbed at her mouth with a freshly-laundered serviette.
‘I’ve talked with the others,’ he said. ‘You can join us any time.’
Kevin and Hoheria looked at each other. Join us? What for?
Reverend Wilks turned back to the pair.
‘She’ll be doing God’s work,’ he said. ‘She’ll be ministering to those unfortunates who can’t cope. Looking after the church.’
Looking after you too, I’ll bet, thought Kevin. Bonk a Sunbeam and go straight to heaven. He managed to keep a straight face, but coughed and spluttered when he looked at Hoheria who was obviously thinking something similar. She put down her knife and fork and was just about to address Reverend Wilks when Cheryl stopped her with a hand on her arm and a raised eyebrow look that said, ‘Don’t interfere!’
That night Hoheria and Kevin camped on the old sports ground while Cheryl joined the other Sunbeams in their church hall dormitory.
‘It’s what she wants,’ Hoheria finally said. ‘I can see what he’s like. So can you. But we’ve got each other. She’s got nobody.’
‘She’d be better off with nobody,’ said Kevin. He tossed the dregs of his tea into the long grass and moved closer to the fire. The burning branches of dead ngaio gave off a thin, spicy smoke.
Two days later they were able to speak with Cheryl. They’d been waiting outside the church hoping for a glimpse of their friend, and she finally joined them on the footpath. She was radiant.
‘I can’t stay long,’ she said. ‘I sneaked away.’
‘What from?’ Kevin asked.
‘We’re meant to be working in the kitchen, making pots of stew for people.’
Hoheria smiled. ‘That’s nice.’
‘Isn’t it,’ said Cheryl. ‘Every day people come to the church for food and for spiritual help.’ She clasped her hands below her chin. Her long, dark hair looked clean and freshly washed.
Her white gown was crisp.
‘Where’d you get the flash dress?’ Kevin asked. ‘Reckon you looked better in jeans.’
‘What would you know about good clothes?’ Cheryl said, flashing him a how-dare-you look. ‘Anyway I’m old enough to be your mother.’
‘She’s dead,’ Kevin said. ‘And she’d never have gone out in public in her nightgown.’ He was stricken, taken instantly back to the worst days of the Fever.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you,’ Cheryl said.
Hoheria stepped forward and put an arm around Kevin’s shoulders. ‘He doesn’t like Reverend Wilks,’ she said. ‘I don’t either. You be careful.’
Cheryl watched the pair as they walked across the road together, Hoheria still with her arm around Kevin’s shoulders. What was wrong with Ralph anyway? They just weren’t old enough to see what she could see.
‘She’s right in it with that guy,’ Kevin said to Hoheria that evening as they sat by the fire eating pigeon roasted over hot coals, and a dandelion and apple salad. ‘What are we going to do about it?’
‘How about nothing?’ Hoheria said. ‘She’s got what she wants, and we’re free to look for Sean. Why don’t we just head south in the morning?’
Kevin stripped the meat from a diminutive drumstick and threw the bone into the fire. ‘We can’t do that,’ he said. ‘She saved our lives. We owe her one.’
The Reverend Wilks met them on the footpath the following morning. He wore jeans, a leather jacket and a pair of high lace-up boots. The prick’s trying to look cool, thought Kevin. And succeeding.
‘I know you’re worried about your friend,’ Reverend Wilks said. ‘I can understand that. I wouldn’t blame you thinking she’s fallen in with a bunch of God-wallopers. But she’s not that gullible. She knows what she’s doing.’
If I try to argue with this guy I’ll get done like a dinner, thought Kevin. I wish Sean was here. He’d nail this shit straight off.
‘We’re not worried,’ said Hoheria, surprising Kevin who was trying to think of an approach that wasn’t outright up-yer-arse rude. ‘We know she’s where she wants to be. She just wants somebody to love her for herself.’ She glanced at Kevin, who had a puzzled look in his eyes. ‘It’s just that we don’t like you. We don’t trust you either. And if you hurt Cheryl you’ll be sorry.’
That’s more like it, thought Kevin. Tell the bastard where he stands.
‘She’s right,’ he said. ‘Hurt Cheryl and one of us will get you.’ He watched Reverend Wilks trying to get his head around the threat. He watched, too, as the fellow took in the appearance of the pair standing before him – their worn and stained clothing, Kevin’s knife and Hoheria’s tomahawk, their watchful wild-animal appearance.
‘I’ll keep all that in mind,’ Reverend Wilks said, his jeans and leather jacket suddenly looking ridiculous. ‘I’ll make sure she comes to no harm. And while I’m here, could I invite you both to next Sunday’s service?’
‘We’d love to come,’ said Hoheria. Kevin almost exploded with laughter at the sweetness of her tone. ‘We can certainly use some spiritual guidance.’
‘Spiritual horseshit,’ said Kevin that evening while they lay back in the long grass, full of freshly caught salmon, watching a sunset streak the sky with shades of red and yellow.
‘I know. But if we want to stay close to Cheryl we have to keep in with him.’
‘You’d better do the talking, then. I might throw up.’
♦
Kevin and Hoheria attended the Sunday service. They found a seat halfway up the church next to some darned, patched and scrubbed peopl
e who tied their horses on the sports ground and who sang the hymns with gusto.
‘These guys know all the words,’ Kevin whispered. ‘They must have been before.’
‘They have,’ said Hoheria, her voice almost drowned by the swelling organ. ‘They’ve even got their own prayer books.’
When the hymn finished Reverend Wilks stepped forward and started greeting all the different groups, from Pine Hill, Caversham, Brockville and Port Chalmers.
‘Thank you all for coming,’ he said. ‘It’s so important that we stick together in these difficult times.’ Kevin could see the Sunbeams in a front pew, with their hair brushed and braided and all wearing white gowns. Cheryl was among them. He recognised the back of her head. ‘In the Old Times there was always a moment in any service when people were asked to turn to the person next to them and say something. That isn’t necessary any more. We’re all in the same boat now. It’s easy to speak to each other as equals.’
The meal following – fish-head soup and bread – was served by the Sunbeams. Cheryl smiled at them, but her eyes were faraway.
‘I don’t like this,’ said Kevin to Hoheria. ‘We have to get her out of there.’
‘Reverend Wilks made a lot of sense today,’ Hoheria replied. ‘Maybe she isn’t so badly off.’
‘Sure. I’m going to talk to her anyway.’ He put down his bowl, stuffed the piece of bread in his pocket and stepped up to Cheryl, who was ladling soup out of a large pot.
‘We’re outta here tomorrow. Your horse’ll be saddled over the road in the morning.’
Cheryl smiled at him. ‘Would you like more soup?’
Kevin bit back a retort. What was the point? ‘No thanks,’ he said. ‘Wouldn’t mind some more bread though.’ He put the chunk in his pocket with the other piece and rejoined Hoheria.
‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘Let’s leave in the morning.’
That evening they lay together in the dusk while the birds and insects chirruped their goodnight calls and the grassflower smells washed over them in delicate waves every time the horses moved.
‘At least we’ll know for sure in the morning,’ Hoheria said. ‘We’ve done our best.’
The sun was two hours high when Hoheria and Kevin sat on their horses outside the church. Nothing moved.
‘Best we just go,’ said Hoheria. She turned to the church and called: ‘Bye, Cheryl!’
Half an hour later they were riding down a motorway south of Ōtepoti.
‘Why do I feel like we just lost a big fight?’ said Kevin. Hoheria was about to reply when they heard a horse being ridden hard and looking back up the hill saw a figure hurtling towards them. Long, dark hair streamed out.
‘That’s Cheryl!’ said Hoheria.
Kevin squinted. ‘Sure is.’
Cheryl was weeping when she caught up. Her eyes were black-ringed and she wore her jeans beneath her Sunbeam robe.
‘They chasing you?’ asked Kevin. Cheryl shook her head. ‘Cup of tea then?’ She nodded, too distraught to speak.
Half an hour later, hunched over a cup of gorseflower tea, Cheryl told them what had happened.
‘That bastard,’ she said. ‘He selected me. Then he went and selected Chloe too.’ Hoheria raised an eyebrow. ‘She’s just a kid.’ Kevin pretended to be busy with the fire. Cheryl took a deep breath and dried her eyes with the hem of her gown. ‘He had both of us in bed with him.’
‘Greedy bugger,’ muttered Kevin.
‘I fixed him anyway. He went to sleep and Chloe got up for something so I dumped the po on his head.’ Kevin spluttered. He put down his tin mug and looked at Cheryl. ‘He threw me out then. He called me an ungrateful bitch.’
Hoheria choked back a giggle. ‘Hope it was full.’
Cheryl looked like she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. ‘Brimming,’ she said, and then let out a guffaw that startled the birds around them.
‘See,’ said Hoheria. ‘Back to normal already.’
As they mounted ready to leave Kevin noticed a large green and brown stain in the back of Cheryl’s robe. ‘You’ve sat in something,’ he said.
Cheryl wrenched her gown around so she could see, then she looked at Kevin. ‘It’s ruined,’ she said. ‘Oh dear. How sad.’ She laughed. ‘Never mind.’
That night the three of them camped at Waihola, near the lake.
‘Not too close,’ said Kevin. ‘Dunno what’s in there. I don’t want to wake up without a head.’ Cheryl looked puzzled. Kevin turned to her as he stirred a panful of turkey pieces and chopped onion. ‘You’d be surprised at what lives in the water.’
4
We Promised to Find Him
‘If you find him ask him what he knows about two dead men and a broken-down car,’ the man said when Kevin stopped him in the middle of Milton and asked if he’d seen anyone wearing an eyepatch.
‘Sounds like Sean,’ Hoheria said. ‘More mysteries.’
A mile out of town the road forked. Kevin and Hoheria couldn’t decide, but Cheryl spoke up.
‘Try going left. Central Otago’s up the other way. I doubt if we’ll find your friend there.’
So left and south it was. By mid-afternoon they were crossing the Kahuika River on an ornate, high concrete bridge with the river swirling far below. They followed a series of Day-Glo signs, some with the AA insignia still attached, and in the carpark of what had once been a large hotel they found a bustling, seething market.
‘I’ve got no money,’ said Kevin. ‘Nothing to trade either.’ Hoheria looked rueful.
‘Me neither,’ she said. ‘And these smells are driving me crazy.’
Sheep and goats were roasting on spits. Home-brewed beer poured for passing patrons made their noses tingle with its rich, yeasty aroma. Bread baked in a wood-fired brick oven. Steaks and spicy sausage fried with onion rings on a barbecue tended by a large, bearded man with lurid tattoos filled the air with a mouth-watering smell.
‘I think I can help,’ Cheryl said. They turned to her. She was holding out a handful of gold coins.
‘Raid the poor box, did you?’ Kevin said.
Cheryl blushed. ‘Well, we’re poor, aren’t we?’
Hoheria laughed. ‘Not any more, we’re not!’
They were eating roast beef and horseradish sauce sandwiches washed down with a flagon of cider when a man approached.
‘Kia ora koutou,’ he said. ‘Welcome to Kahuika. My name’s Paki.’
‘Gidday then, Paki,’ said Kevin. He patted the form next to him. ‘Take a seat. Have some cider.’
Paki took a swig from the proffered flagon and passed it to Cheryl. ‘I can see you guys aren’t from around here,’ he said. ‘Anything I can do for you?’
Kevin looked at Hoheria. She nodded. ‘We’re trying to find somebody,’ Kevin said. ‘A guy called Sean.’
Paki looked blank.
‘Dreadlocks and an eyepatch?’ Kevin continued. ‘His dog’s a real sneak.’
The light came on in Paki’s eyes. ‘Is that his name?’ he said. ‘I didn’t meet him, but I heard about him. He had a woman with him.’ There was silence for a few moments while Paki looked carefully at all three. ‘Who wants to know anyway?’
‘We’re his family,’ Hoheria said.
Paki sat back and folded his arms. ‘We’re all family, especially these days, sister.’
‘I mean it,’ she said. ‘We promised to find him in the spring.’
Paki leaned over and took the flagon of cider from Cheryl. They all waited while he took a long pull, lowered the flagon, passed it back, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and belched loudly and deliberately.
‘Sounds like the guy can take care of himself,’ Paki said finally. ‘Try Kokopu Waters.’ He got up then. ‘And if you find him tell him I’m looking forward to meeting him.’ Standing, Paki towered over everyone. He wore his hair in a topknot, and covered his big-time wrestling bulk with the brightest island shirt any of them had ever seen.
‘Good to meet you guys,’ he s
aid. ‘If you’re back this way call in and say gidday.’ The trio sat and watched while Paki turned and walked away to his tent.
‘Bet he can take care of himself too,’ Kevin said later as they followed directions down to the river and made themselves comfortable among a grove of willows.
‘Somebody’s been here before,’ said Hoheria. ‘There’s a fireplace.’ She pointed to a bare and blackened patch ringed with river stones. ‘I’d laugh if it was Sean.’
By late the following day the travellers were riding down the hill into Kokopu Waters.
‘Hope this is the place,’ said Kevin. ‘Long way to ride if it isn’t.’
‘It is,’ said Hoheria. ‘Where else could it be?’
They rode right through the town whistling and calling, and had almost convinced themselves they’d made a mistake when Cheryl saw a dinghy far out on the estuary, moving towards them. From the water’s edge, Sean, a red-haired woman and a small girl were just visible.
‘There’s Hamu in the back!’ cried Hoheria as the dinghy drew closer, Hamu’s tail wagging.
‘It’s the stern,’ said Kevin gruffly. Hoheria waved and jumped up and down. The red-haired woman waved back. Sean, who was rowing, had his back to them.
The keel scraped, Sean shipped the oars, everyone jumped out and together they pulled the boat up the beach.
Sean straightened and looked at Hoheria and Kevin, Cheryl suddenly shy behind them. He broke into a huge smile. ‘Have a good trip?’
Hoheria burst into tears. Kevin laughed. ‘The bus was late,’ he said. ‘But we got here.’
Sean looked at Cheryl.
‘This is our friend, Cheryl,’ Kevin said. ‘She saved our lives when we crossed the Waitaki River.’
‘Bet there’s a story in that one,’ Sean said. ‘You’re very welcome, girl.’ He turned to the red-haired woman and the child. ‘And this is Alex. She’s been saving my life since the day we met.’ He smiled then at Lydia, peeking out from behind Alex’s patchwork skirt. ‘Meet Lydia. She found us in Kahuika.’ He looked at the three. ‘Boy, are we glad to see you guys. This is the right place for sure, but it definitely needs more people.’