Crystal Ice

by Warren Miner-Williams

  Once Danny’s body was placed in the meeting house in a position of honour the grieving process began. Almost as one the whanau and manuhiri – family and friends – began to cry openly, a ritualistic way of expressing their love for the deceased and exorcising their grief. As they vocalised their sorrow over two hundred mourners harmonised within the cramped confines of the meeting house. The kaumatua, (esteemed elder), raised his voice above the others to start the whaikorero, (speechmaking), with the traditional kōrero whakatau, (address). Many of Danny’s family and friends spoke about the trials and tribulations of his life. Each personal story tinged with the sadness they felt for his loss. Though not voicing revenge on the marae some of his soldiers had spoken defiantly against his killers.

  When Sonny Rewaka stood up to speak, the crying and wailing diminished and he became the focus of the assembled pae mate, (mourners), attention.

  “This is a terrible time for us all and especially for Ngaire, the children and the whanau. Our hearts reach out to you in your grief….”

  * When pronouncing Māori words each vowel should be pronounced, e.g., Mate, (Māori for death), should be Ma-tay, not like the English may-t

  As Sonny spoke, he almost choked on the lies he had to tell. However, to the other mourners, the slight stumble in Sonny’s speech was evidence of his grief.

  “I want to speak about the Danny who was my friend. He and I have been friends for more than twenty-five years, long before many of you knew him. I speak of the time when we first attended Karaka Primary School, our very first day. I met him during the morning interval. I was alone and he was with a group of his mates. As I tripped over my shoelaces I bumped into Danny, almost knocking him over. As I recovered Danny punched me on the cheek, he may also have said something that was unrepeatable but my memory of that has faded. Without stopping to think I retaliated by punching him on the nose. As blood trickled down his nose Danny stared at me like a stunned mullet. I don’t think anyone before me had ever landed a blow on his face. As the seconds ticked by, he recovered and I saw a sparkle in his eyes that soon grew into a smile. Instead of hitting me back, he put his arm around my shoulders and said “Hi, bro’ I’m Danny, who are you?” From that moment on we were inseparable. We shared a heap of happy experiences together. We shared our first ‘Harley,’ we even dated a few of the same girlfriends. Whenever I had a birthday Danny was always the first to congratulate me. When Mary gave birth to our twin boys, Timoti and Wiremu, Danny was waiting with me at the hospital. When Wiremu died Danny was at my side. Though it must be unbelievably hard for you and the children Ngaire, I share in your sorrow, as I have lost my best friend. There is an empty space in my life that Danny occupied, and such a space can never be filled.” Sonny turned to address the coffin directly:

  “I will miss you, Danny. Farewell my friend.”

  As Sonny sat down again, the embarrassment of hypocrisy reddened his face, the crying and wailing started once more. Ngaire looked directly at Sonny with deep penetrating eyes, a cognisant stare that warned him that she suspected him of having a greater involvement in Danny’s death than she had the right to. Sonny held her gaze until her attention switched to one of the speakers who addressed her and her children directly. Nearly everyone spoke, every adult and many of the children. At the conclusion of the speeches, everyone approached Danny’s coffin to say their goodbyes.

  On the po whakamutunga (the final night), the whanau and manuhiri, gathered in the meeting house to sing songs and tell tales of tenderness and ‘daring do,’ about Danny’s life. At the conclusion Ngaire addressed Danny directly, reminding him that one day they would all meet again in the life beyond, and that justice would be done.

  Danny’s final night above ground was spent in the company of his immediate relatives, who all slept on mats that covered the floor. The meeting house of the Umupuia Marae was relatively new, the carved figures on the inside walls that represented the ancestors of the local marae people and those of other tribes were stunningly beautiful. Ngaire spent more than an hour relating the history of these carvings to her children before they lay down to sleep.

  “It will be these ancestors,” she said “that will look after your father in the life to come. And it will be these same ancestors that will punish his killers. Sleep well children, for you are in the company of great Māori chiefs and their warriors. They will keep you safe here tonight.”

  Before the sun rose, as the mists of early morning enveloped the grounds of the marae, the kaumatua and kuia (elders) entered the wharenui and awoke the sleeping whanau. It was time to begin the Te Ra Nehu, (funeral service), to say their final farewells to the body of their loved one. Soon other mourners would arrive on the marae to say goodbye to their friend.

  As the marae became bathed in glorious sunshine, the mourners escorted the body of Daniel Tua to the urupa, (graveyard), close by. Brian Rupene a close friend of Danny’s, and Ngaire’s brother-in-law, gave the eulogy at the graveside.

  Sonny Rewaka was surprised when Brian spoke of loyalty and love, not of violence and retribution. Brian was a Skorpion soldier who just 48 hours ago spoke of the complete opposite. As the sun beat down on the backs of the mourners, a tui sitting in a nearby tree seemed to whistle a mournful lament to accompany the tears shed at the graveside. The cemetery commanded a breath-taking view, across the blue waters of the Tamaki Strait and on to Waiheke Island beyond. On the shoreline, Pohutukawa trees sported their finest scarlet flowers that contrasted with the dark green of their leaves like the decorations on a Christmas tree.

  The final farewell occurred when Danny’s daughters sang Po Atarau, the original Māori song of farewell.

  Once the funeral service had finished, the mourners quietly filed out of the graveyard so that the nehunga, (burial), could commence. Ngaire and her children remained silent at the graveside, long after the others had left, all steadfastly hoping to put off that moment when Danny’s spirit would finally depart. In Māori culture the graveyard is tapu, (sacred), so each of the departing mourners must wash their hands, as they leave, to ensure that any unknown and unwanted spirits do not leave the graveyard.

  Back at the marae the hakari – a thanksgiving feast that celebrates the life of the deceased – had already been prepared. Similar to an Irish wake, the feast would free the whanau and manuhiri from their mourning. It was a joyous time of singing and eating that lifted the spirits of everyone. It was especially important to erase the pain that the children felt, at having lost a close relative. Ngaire made sure that her youngest two children were distracted from the sadness they shared at the graveside by pairing them up with other children of their own age and under the watchful eye of their grandfather.

  During the feast Sonny and Mary approached Ngaire to offer their assistance after they returned home. Ngaire ignored Sonny completely, before asking Mary to help her dispose of Danny’s things that had not been buried with him.

  “Mary, can you help me with the takahi whare?”

  Takahi whare is considered a cleansing and blessing of the family home, ensuring that the spirit of the deceased is free to move away and not revisit the home. During this blessing Ngaire would gift some of Danny’s personal possessions to his close friends and relatives, then anything left would be either buried or burned to preserve the dignity of the deceased.

  “Of course, I will,” replied Mary, a little taken aback by Ngaire’s dismissal of Sonny. “Is there anything else that needs fixing?”

  “No, I’m OK, I’ve just lost my partner but that’s nothing.” She replied sarcastically.

  Large teardrops were starting to form in the corners of her eyes, warning Mary that Ngaire was about to break down. Mary grabbed her friend before that happened, and held her in a fierce hug that pinned her arms to her sides.

  “Come on now love, you’ll be fine. Sonny and I will always be there for you, you know that.”

  Ngaire pressed her face to her friend’s neck and burst into tears, her whole body wracked by the p
ain of her sorrow. The more Ngaire cried, the tighter her friend held her. At one-point Ngaire looked up at Sonny, still standing beside them.

  “Tell me Sonny, that you had nothing to do with Danny’s death. Tell me that to my face, Sonny”

  Both Sonny and Mary were shocked by the vehemence of her accusation. Sonny though, answered commandingly:

  “I’m shocked that you need to ask. I meant every word of my speech yesterday. He was my best friend; I’ve known him since junior school. I couldn’t kill Danny. The Skorpions had nothing to do with his death, I had nothing to do with his death, nothing at all.”

  Ngaire closed her eyes as the tears began to flood down her cheeks once more, her body lifting with each involuntary sob.

  “I’m sorry, both of you, I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I should think that, but his death and how he died haunt me, every minute of the day.” Sobbed Ngaire. “My nightmares keep me from sleeping and I’m so frightened that the children will find out how their father died. Oh God Mary, I wouldn’t know what to tell them if they knew.”

  “Come on now love, tighten up, Anna is looking at you.” Said Mary reassuringly. “We have to be strong for them. We can get through this together, whatever happens Ngaire, whatever.”

  Ngaire pulled away from Mary and wiped her eyes with the back of her heavily tattooed hands.

  “Yes, you’re right. I must be strong, for little Anna and the others.”

  As Ngaire pulled herself together she smiled at Mary, before opening her arms to Anna, her youngest daughter who had escaped from the care of her grandfather. As she picked up the child, she turned back to Sonny and said:

  “I have your word on that, Sonny?”

  “Yes Ngaire, you have my solemn oath.”

  “Mum, what’s a solemn?” Anna was the most gorgeous child you could wish for. Her dark brown eyes sparkled as she smiled. She was the picture of innocence and hopefully she would never know the truth about how her father died.

  “It’s a special form of promise, a sort of double promise, for the most important ones.”

  When Ngaire had gone, Mary turned to Sonny and looked deep into his eyes, as if she was searching his very soul for the truth.

  Sonny stared at her. “What’s got you? I told you, I didn’t kill him.”

  “You two had been arguing a lot lately, hadn’t you? He wasn’t your best buddy in the weeks before his death, was he? Ngaire knows that, in fact nearly everyone knows that.”

  “Yes, but that’s miles away from wanting to kill him. Shit Mary, I’m shocked you even have to ask.”

  “Look Sonny I know you’re a tough guy and I know what you’re capable of and I am sure you wouldn’t butcher your own friend like that. No, I don’t think that you killed Danny, but how convenient that he isn’t still around to bugger things up as he usually did. I remember the nights when you came home shaking your fist in the air in frustration that he was opposing something that you had proposed, just to be bloody minded.”

  “Look Mary, I don’t want to hear you mention this topic again, do you understand me?” He commanded. “If you can’t believe me, then shut the fuck up.”

  As Sonny mouthed the last sentence, the words were merely hissed. Mary had pushed him to the edge, overstepping the mark. Sonny turned away from his wife and strode across the floor of the dining hall towards the buffet. However, before he got there Mary had scooped up his right hand, and stood in front of him.

  “I’m sorry boss,” she joked, “really I am. Forgive me, please.”

  Before he could reply she stretched up and kissed him gently on the lips. After such a simple gesture, his anger melted away. He loved Mary dearly and could never be angry with her for long. Sonny smiled, gently combed his fingers through her raven black hair and pulled her close to him. Now gently lifting her chin, he kissed her. It was one of those kisses that convey to your partner that everything is forgiven. Sonny was not a hard-hearted man; in Mary’s hands he was as warm and tender as any lover she could wish for. Although Sonny Rewaka led an often-violent motorcycle gang he was a charismatic leader, one who had won the hearts and minds of his soldiers by his intelligence and foresight; just a few of the characteristics that his wife had nurtured in her man.

  In the far corner of the wharekai Brian Rupene stared at Sonny. He and some of Daniel Tua’s bodyguards suspected, as Ngaire did, that Sonny was indeed guilty of their friend’s death. They had spoken to Ngaire about it the day after he had been butchered. However, Sonny was highly respected, even loved, by the great majority of the Skorpion membership so they couldn’t voice their suspicions to anyone else. That would be the quickest way to get their own throats cut. Frustrated by not being able seek justice for the killing, their hatred bubbled dangerously under the surface. They were determined to get to the truth, no matter how long it took.

  ***

  Sarah Heta was fed up with hiding at her Auntie’s house. She was also fed up with her aunt’s husband Hemi who was getting on her nerves. When Aunt Harriet was out, he would start sniffing around her, making rude suggestions. When Sarah was in the kitchen, he would come up behind her and slap her bottom or breathe down her neck. His breath always stank of stale beer. Aunt Harriet worked at the local Countdown supermarket, Hemi was unemployed, and on the Sickness Benefit for some fictitious injury to his back he supposedly got working as a labourer. If he touched her butt again, he was going to get his nuts crushed.

  She didn’t have to wait long. As Sarah washed the breakfast plates, Hemi came up behind her and pushed his hand between her thighs to feel her crotch.

  “Ooh, that’s nice and warm and inviting. What do you say Sarah, to your favourite uncle?”

  As Hemi had become more brazen in his advances, Sarah had thought about her response for days. Quickly turning round, freeing his hand, Sarah put her arms around his neck.

  “Do you want some pussy, Hemi?”

  “Oh yeh, sure.”

  “Come closer to me then. Let me feel you getting hard against me.” She put her forehead against his. She suckered him well and truly, he really did think that he had a chance. Then, as quick as lightning, she lifted her knee and crushed his testicles against his pubic bone. Like an old pair of bellows, stale rank air emptied from Hemi’s lungs and he sank to the floor, the agony reflected in his bloodshot eyes. At first, he uttered no sound at all, just gasped for air, and then writhing on the floor, he started a strangled high-pitched scream. Sarah laughed at the noise, so it was true, getting kicked in the balls did make your voice rise a couple of octaves. Sarah had no sympathy for him at all. In that moment the fear that she had bottled up inside her after the killing of Tua was released on Hemi in a fit of revenge. As he tried to curl up into a foetal position she lashed out with her foot, striking him squarely on the nose. With a sickening crunch the bones of Hemi’s nose were crushed and as blood poured from his nose, she was tempted to kick him again.

  “So, what the fuck do you say to that, my favourite uncle?”

  Hemi couldn’t speak, his agony precluded it. Sarah bent over his body and grabbed a handful of his hair.

  “I said, what do you think of that you bastard?” It was too tempting; she couldn’t stop herself and with each syllable she shouted she banged his head against the tiled floor. Something else crunched, as the last syllable crossed her lips. Sarah rubbed her hands together ritualistically, as if she was washing them in air. She really felt sorry for Aunt Harriet, married to such a low life as Hemi.

  It took Sarah ten minutes to pack what few things she had in two polythene shopping bags. In fifteen minutes, she was more than a hundred metres down the road, but in twenty more she realised that she had nowhere else to go. By midday she was on a bus to Turangi. After telephoning her Aunt Ada in floods of tears, she was invited to stay. Ada knew Hemi, she also knew that he would get another pounding when Harriet got home.

  12.

  Ngaire

  As a dark shadow passed across the fly, it immediately took evasive act
ion. Just when it thought it was safe, it flew straight into the almost invisible web. Now the more it struggled, the more it became enmeshed. High frequency vibrations transmitted through the gossamer silk lines brought the spider out of its hiding place in a flash, and no matter how much the fly tried to escape, it was doomed. In an instant the spider trussed up her victim in a bundle of fresh sticky silk, so that she could drink its body fluids later.