I read on, and find out the best time to harvest kōwhai, all according to the moon and observing other signs from nature. Inner bark, flowers, leaves and juice all have to be prepared in a certain way to extract the magic within.
Kareao, Karewao, Supplejack
A creeper with bright red berries that climbs and wraps itself around the forest trees...
The wind slams the door shut behind Charlie. Her arms are laden with plant material.
‘I can’t remember which bit I’m meant to give you. When I tried to pull a leaf off, a whole lot of the vine wanted to come too.’
I look down at the tangled mass of vine she gives me. ‘What are we meant to do with it?’
‘Seeing as you’re already poisoned, we can experiment, or you can see if you can find the leaf in there.’ She points to the ring binder on my knee. ‘I’ll go find Koro’s clothes.’
I hold the book and the plant on my lap like someone’s newborn baby. I tip each page over, holding onto the underside of it in case it tears. A lot of the flowers in their little sealed coffins have lost their colours and faded to brown, and some of the pages have yellowed with age.
I search the pages for the vine in my hand. A few seem similar, but the notes contain such miniscule details that as I read on they eliminate themselves. One fits the profile exactly, but the pencil drawing of the leaf has serrations and the one in my hand doesn’t. I read on, and find that the juvenile plants don’t have serrations: they develop later.
‘I found it,’ I yell to an empty room.
Puawānanga, Pōānanga
The child of two stars: Rehua, the father and Puanga, the mother.
Puanga is the food-bringer. If her rays twinkle towards the north, the produce from the forests and the sea will be plentiful. If towards the south, then it will be a lean year.
The white star-shaped flowers weave their way through the forest to festoon the treetops.
Rongoa: make a cut along the raised bit of the stem. When you peel back the two sides you will find a slimy tissue nestled inside. This substance can be put straight onto the skin. This will help alleviate pain from stings and skin rashes.
I jump when Charlie places her hand on my shoulder.
‘God, Charlie. You scared me.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to, but I thought I heard you yell.’
‘I found the plant.’
‘Cool. The puawānanga vine.’
‘Oh. You knew.’
‘Yeah, but it always pays to check. So many plants look the same. If you get it wrong some plants could kill you.’
‘What’s rongoa?’
‘Rongoa Māori is traditional Māori medicine. A treatment.’
‘I’ve never seen anything like this ring binder. It’s amazing. Who wrote it?’
She sits down on the edge of the armchair.
‘I wrote this page,’ she says, pointing to the one we’re on. ‘My mum wrote this one and my nan this one,’ she says, flicking over to other pages.
‘But how come the writing all looks the same?’
Charlie doesn’t answer, but climbs up a ladder and takes a box from one of the shelves.
‘This is a waka huia, or treasure box.’ She lifts the lid off an ornately carved wooden box. ‘My ancestors used to store valuable things, like huia feathers, in them.’ She takes an object out and unwraps the tissue paper surrounding it.
‘This,’ she says, holding up a fountain pen, ‘is your answer.’
I take the pen and see the slant and fine nib on the end.
‘Koro prefers the old way of passing on knowledge, through kōrero or language. Nan used to help him collect a lot of the plants, and she liked to press some of the flowers. Mum liked to draw, so the book grew from there, really. When I was small, I used to sit in this chair and memorise each plant in the order it came in the book.’
I can picture her as a child, her head resting on one armrest and her limbs dangling over the other.
‘I still remember the day I discovered a plant that I knew wasn’t in the book. It was summer, and I’d gone up Karioi Mountain with Kawharu to look for some wild strawberries. At the base of a rātā tree I found a small plant with dark green oval leaves and hairy white flowers.’
‘When I showed it to Koro, tears welled up in his eyes. He said it was very rare and that he’d only heard of it growing at the top of the South Island.’
‘What was it?’
She flips a couple of pages over in the ring binder. ‘It’s this one.’
Scutellaria novae-zelandiae, Shovel mint
A low-growing herb with erect branches. Belongs to the mint family: one of only two that is native to New Zealand. Found mainly in lowland areas in Nelson and Marlborough.
The description of the plant is small in comparison to its likes and dislikes. Every plant in the book seems to have human qualities.
In some cases, giving the mint too much attention when it is young will be the ruin of it in adolescence. Another plant will cause trouble if it is confined, and prefers to roam free. And yet another will flourish if given centre stage.
‘What does the mint cure?’
‘Flatulence.’
‘No way!’
‘Yep, good old farting. That was such a let-down. Koro was sad but also excited when I found it. I thought it must cure cancer or something. I realised later that Koro’s feelings weren’t about what the plant could do, but what it had shown him. He’d read it as a sign that I would be the one to help him with his work, and that it was time for him and Nan to take a trip to the South Island.’
Charlie gets up and returns the treasure box to its shelf. Sitting on the top of the ladder, she finishes her story.
‘Koro and Nan took several weeks tiki-touring around the South Island. A week after they returned, my nan died in her sleep.’
‘Wow, that’s spooky.’
‘Not really. Koro says the universe is whispering to us all the time, but people are just too busy to listen. Nan got to say goodbye to a whole lot of her relatives because Koro read the sign.’
Charlie climbs down a few rungs of the ladder and then jumps, landing with a thud. She picks up the other two books Koro wants and puts them in her canvas bag.
‘Plants have so much to teach us. We even need the same things to grow: shelter, water, warmth and someone looking out for us.’
I think about Poppa and remember him comparing me to a new bud on the tree. Every day he would show me some natural wonder. A caterpillar snuggled up on a leaf or a heart-shaped rock. Another gift from nature, he would say.
Every other time Poppa’s face has flashed up in my mind, I’ve quickly shut the image down, frightened of the pain that might follow. This time, I think about Charlie telling me to swim. I let his smiling blue eyes linger for a moment.
‘Come on, Libby. We better get this stuff back up the hill.’
I take a huge sniff of the spice-scented air and reluctantly push myself up from the chair. I want to stay in this room forever, where magic, secrets and stories hide among seed pods and books.
Chapter Seventeen
A cream-coloured Austin A40 is parked in the driveway. Charlie recognises the car as the local doctor’s, and runs the last few feet to the house.
‘Mum, where are you?’ she yells from the porch.
‘Shh, Charlie, you’ll wake the dead,’ Hautai says, appearing from the hallway carrying a cardboard box containing black bandages and old flax strips.
‘Is Koro alright?’
Hautai brushes a strand of hair back from her face.
‘He’s fine, Charlie. I asked the doctor to come and have a look at him, more for my sake really.’ She bends down and puts the box by the door. ‘I’ll get you to bury these later,’ she says to Charlie.
As she washes her hands, a man who looks older than Koro and wears a crumpled brown suit emerges from the hall. He snaps the locks on a shabby leather bag and clears his throat.
‘He definitely has a bro
ken arm.’
I have to turn away from Charlie to stop my laughter. Her eyebrows shoot up in pretend surprise. Hautai gives her a look that can only mean don’t you dare say a word.
‘I would still recommend he goes to the hospital and gets it set properly. But I realise from my short time with him how difficult it may be to convince him.’ He turns his face, full of sympathy, towards Hautai. ‘I will say that, as primitive as it is, what has been done to his arm has stabilised the fracture. My concern is that it’s still open to infection.’
Hautai pushes the hall door shut, drowning out Koro’s yelling.
‘Well, thank you for coming, doctor. I think we can manage to keep the wound clean, but I’ll be in touch if anything changes.’
The doctor looks bewildered as he gets ushered out the door. Hautai waits on the porch until he gets in his car and waves out to him as he chugs off down the hill.
‘Thank God for back bedrooms.’ Hautai slides the ranch slider closed and opens up the hallway door.
Koro is propped up by pillows. He has a little colour back in his cheeks and a smug look on his face.
‘Well, would you believe? I’ve got a broken arm!’
Hautai shakes her head and ignores his comments. On the bedside table she has placed a pot filled with more black liquid. With some tongs, she takes some swabs of cotton that are soaking in it and lays them on the wound. Without a word between them, Charlie and her mum work together to bind another splint to Koro’s arm.
‘A few days’ rest and I should be as good as new.’
‘Yep, a few days’ rest and a sprinkling of fairy dust should see you out digging in the garden by Wednesday,’ Hautai says.
‘I don’t like your tone,’ Koro says. ‘I think I’ll fire you and find a nurse with some tenderness in her heart. Charlie, Libby, anyone want to volunteer?’
‘Charlie has school tomorrow and Libby is our guest. We only put up with you because you’re family. Did you two get the stuff for the stings?’
Charlie removes the books from the canvas bag. A heady aroma of spices precedes the ring binder, which she lays on the bed beside Koro. The vine is wrapped up in a side pocket.
‘What part did it say to use, Libby?’
‘We have to get the gel stuff from inside the stem.’
I blush as all three look at me.
‘Another helper,’ Koro says.
‘You leave her alone,’ Hautai says. ‘You have to watch him, Libby. He’ll have you collecting plants from all sorts of wild places and at all times of the day and night.’
‘It’s true,’ Charlie says. ‘That reminds me, I saw a kawau-pū on the beach yesterday. Autumn’s going to arrive early.’
‘What’s a kawau-pū?’ I ask.
‘A black shag.’
I imagine the bird flying along the beach dragging autumn behind it. I’m not sure how everything is connected, but I’m starting to get the feeling that it is. And that I just haven’t been paying attention.
‘That’s early; are you sure it was a kawau-pū?’ Koro asks.
‘Pretty sure.’
‘Oh God, I nearly forgot to tell you,’ Hautai says to Charlie. ‘Jessie Hemara died yesterday.’
‘That’s sad. She taught all of us kids,’ Charlie tells me, ‘and was about a hundred when I was a five-year-old.’
‘Charlie,’ says Hautai.
Charlie shrugs. ‘Sorry, Mum.’
‘They were taking her body to Poihākena Marae this morning. I’ll take you kids down this afternoon so you can pay your respects. Actually, Libby, would you mind looking after Koro while we do that?’
‘Sure.’
‘You can just text Charlie if Koro causes you too much trouble.’
Koro gives her a smile. ‘We’ll be fine, don’t you worry.’
‘Have you rung your mum, Libby?’ Hautai asks.
‘Um, not yet.’
‘Do you want me to talk to her? You can’t go back to school with that rash, and they’ll be expecting you back tonight.’
‘I’ll ring her.’
*
After the family leave for the marae, and with Koro asleep, the house feels like it’s lost its breath. Then Koro yells out from the bedroom and the house inhales again.
By the time I get to the bedroom door, he is struggling to push himself up with one arm.
‘Here, let me help you.’
Between us we manage to sit him upright. He gives me a weak smile, but I can see the pain in his eyes.
‘Can I get you something for the pain?’
‘Yeah, Hautai will have something brewing on the stove. Can you bring me a mugful?’
‘Sure.’
‘And pass me that.’ He points to the gourd shaped like a fish.
When I come back in with the mug, he has spilt black seeds all over the duvet.
‘I dropped the bloody things.’
I put the cup on the bedside table and start to pick up the seeds.
‘What sort of seeds are they?’
‘You’ll need to find out for yourself. You won’t learn anything if I just tell you.’ He pushes the ring binder towards me.
I pass him the mug with the painkiller in it. He gulps it.
I sit on the end of his bed. ‘How can I tell from such a tiny seed what plant it came from?’
‘By using all your senses. You can never tell what something – or someone – is just by looking at it. You have to get inside to see what it’s made of. That’s where the treasure’s to be found.’
He takes another big gulp of liquid, leans back on his pillow and closes his eyes.
I hold the seed between my thumb and forefinger and examine it closely. It has a small raised line running around the middle. It is blood red, not black like I first thought. The smell, as I hold it to my nose and sniff, reminds me of a pink smoker lolly.
Koro opens his eyes and peers at me over the rim of his cup. I turn the pages in the folder and read the descriptions. I try and find a likeness in the drawings, but after fifteen minutes I still haven’t worked out what plant the seed comes from.
‘I can’t find it.’
‘Maybe it doesn’t exist,’ Koro says.
‘It does, but I just haven’t found it.’
‘So, that’s your answer, Libby.’
‘I don’t understand.’
Koro’s eyelids look like they are about to close again.
‘No matter what the problem is, just because you can’t find an answer straight away, it doesn’t mean there isn’t one. You may have to look a little harder or a little longer.’
Koro isn’t talking about the seed. A memory of me standing by the river, my bald spots on show for the entire world to see, races through my mind.
He starts to cough. I see he’s tiring.
I take the mug from his hand and the pillow from behind his back.
‘I think that bloody daughter of mine put a sedative in with the painkiller. She’s a true witch that one.’
I put the ring binder on the floor and tuck the covers up around him. I think he’s already asleep as I tip-toe out of the room. But just as I get to the door, I hear a whisper behind me.
‘If you hold on too tight to the past, Libby, the future can’t come in.’
*
My mind is replaying Koro’s conversation when a car pulls into the driveway. I see from the kitchen window that it’s Weketia. I haven’t seen her since we capsized. Just as I’m wondering where to hide, she sees me and waves out.
‘Hi Libby. Where is everyone?’
‘They went down to the marae. Should be back soon.’
‘Cool. I just came to raid the freezer before I go back to Hamilton. How’s the patient?’
‘He’s gone back to sleep. He thinks your mum dropped a few leaves of something in with the painkiller to make him sleep.’
‘She probably did. I don’t know which one of those two is the most stubborn.’ She opens the kitchen cupboards and finds a half-eaten chocolate c
ake in one of the tins. ‘We better have coffee to go with this.’
She flicks the kettle on and gets two cups from hooks hanging under a shelf. ‘How do you have it, Libby?’
‘White and one,’ I say, never having had a cup before.
She brings both cups back to the table and sits down. She wraps both her hands around the mug. ‘How’s your rash? Mum said you got stung by some jellyfish.’
‘Yeah, it’s nothing.’
‘Good. I hope Charlie warned you about the madhouse before she brought you out here.’
‘It’s been fun.’
‘If you call a near-drowning fun.’
I hope that the thin wisp of steam from my coffee hides the blush that comes to my cheeks.
‘Shit, did I say something to embarrass you?’
‘No. I just blush a lot.’
‘You’re embarrassed about your bald spots, aren’t you?’
Charlie’s family sure know how to say things as they see them. I nod.
‘Charlie told you I’m a hairdresser, eh?’
I nod again.
‘So, I see all sorts. Nits, alopecia. I have one client like you, with trich.’
‘With what?’
‘Oh God, sorry Libby. I just presumed you had trichotillomania.’
‘What’s that?’
‘I don’t know much, but it seems that some people have this compulsion to pull out their hair. You know how some people pick their skin, and others can’t stop swearing: it’s like one of those things.’
‘You mean like an obsessive compulsive disorder.’
‘Sort of, but different. My client said she used to think she was the only one in the world to do it. She said once she found out that thousands of other people do it too, it made it easier to deal with. She’s an amazing woman. Married, children, high up in a dairy company – and she just happens to pull her hair out.’
I try and soak up what I’m hearing. The shock is like being told I’ve got a twin. Thousands of other people do it? Maybe I’m not nuts. I’m excited and confused all at once. ‘Did the lady say if there’s a cure?’
‘Sorry, Libby. I didn’t ask her. She did say there’s a really good website, if I wanted to know more. I don’t remember what it was but I can find out.’
The Scent of Apples Page 16