by K T Bowes
As midday passed, the sun won its battle for a few hours and dominated the day. Hana checked on Logan and found him still sleeping. She cleared away the wallpapering paraphernalia and changed her focus. Needing to be outside in the sunshine, she grabbed tools from the garage and spent a good hour doing battle with the weeds. She discarded her hoodie and enjoyed the warmth on her bare arms. A sizeable mound of weeds mounted up in the wheelbarrow next to her as she forked through the bed, disappointed to find nothing of value. A flowerbed emerged, wrapped around the bay window of the living room and stretching beneath the porch. Any decent specimens died long ago, buried beneath the bindweed and scrubby grass.
Hana scrabbled around in the garage for remnants of a roll of weed mat and spent another hour laying it. She pinned it with a few stray metal rods and stood back to admire her work. Snapping a photograph, she sent it to Izzie. Her daughter texted back.
‘What will you plant there?’
Hana wrinkled her nose and admitted it would remain bare. She ached for a covert trip to a garden centre, but the morning’s antics drained her energy and she didn’t dare. She moved to the slope and attacked its muddled edges, seeking to restore order to the chaos.
A noise made her start and Hana dropped her trowel. She retrieved it and stood, wielding it as a weapon.
“Don’t get scared, girly.” Maihi waved and walked towards her, nodding her head with understanding. “It’s only me.” She jerked her head at the cleared ground and the pile in the wheelbarrow. “Looks good,” she said. “Ka pai.”
Hana beamed under the spotlight of Maihi’s admiration, like a child with a painting that pleased the teacher. “You got plants?” Maihi demanded and Hana’s smile drooped.
“No,” she admitted.
Maihi made suggestions, naming plants Hana didn’t recognise. She laughed and held her palms outstretched. “You’re cheating,” she complained to the old woman. “I know nothing about gardens and you’re using Latin names.”
“You should learn,” Maihi chuckled. “Know your surroundings, girly.”
“I need to go to the garden centre.” Hana pouted and looked around her. She jumped as Maihi snatched at her arm, digging her fingernails into her flesh.
“No! Not today! No!”
Hana looked down at Maihi’s clawed fingers, frightened by the vehemence of her words. Maihi collected herself and released her, patting the red mark she left on the porcelain skin. “Lock up here and come home with me. We’ll take cuttings from my place. I’ve thousands up there.” She indicated the general direction of her home with an outstretched arm and waited for Hana to obey. “Lock your doors. Lock them tight.”
Hana frowned. “I’m not sure. The doctor came out to Logan this morning. He’s real crook.” She deliberated and then shook her head. “Not today, but thank you.”
“Check on him.” Maihi jerked her head towards the door. “I won’t keep you for more than an hour.”
Hana looked up at the front door and then at Maihi. “What’s the matter?” she demanded, cocking her head.
Maihi shrugged. “Come for a walk with me.”
Hana kicked off her boots on the porch and padded to the bedroom to assess Logan. His head felt cool and his body lay in the foetal position. He’d woken and drunk half the cooled water and taken the medication and he looked peaceful. Hana stroked his hair back from his forehead and kissed his temple. “Won’t be long,” she whispered.
Grabbing her sweatshirt and house keys, Hana stuffed her phone into her pocket. She closed the garage door and locked up. “Are you showing me the secret route to your house?” she asked the old woman and Maihi nodded.
“Let’s go,” she said and beckoned with her fingers. They climbed the back fence into the empty paddock behind the house. Climbing the steep incline, they reached the bush line with Hana puffing and blowing.
“Wait a minute,” she begged, putting her hands on her knees. She turned to view her home from the vantage point. “Roof looks nice,” she said, running a hand over her damp forehead. “But the flat roof over the garage doesn’t.”
“Needs some nice plant pots,” Maihi suggested, shielding her eyes from the sun. “You can make it nice.”
Hana wrinkled her nose. “It faces west. I never noticed. That means it catches the afternoon sun.”
“Sure does.” Maihi nodded. She tugged on Hana’s arm. “Come on. It’s not much fun if we lose the light coming back.”
“I never thought about walking back.” Hana pouted. “Maybe I could come over tomorrow morning.”
“You’ll never find the path.” Maihi set off walking again and Hana followed with a groan.
“I have a rimu garden table and bench seats in the garage,” Hana said, puffing behind her. “I could lift that onto the roof garden.”
Maihi stopped and raised a dark eyebrow. “Not on your own,” she warned. “You’ll hurt yourself.”
Hana shrugged and shed her sweatshirt, tying the sleeves around her waist. “How much further?” she demanded.
Maihi chuckled and waved her onward. “Youse a wimp, girly,” she called over her shoulder. “I’m an old kuia and even I don’t puff like youse.” She sprang over a line of barbed wire like a deer.
Hana tried many ways to cross the nasty wire. Climbing it sent the spiteful prongs through her gumboots and her running jump proved unsuccessful. Maihi watched, shaking her head and laughing as Hana disconnected her sleeve from its grip. “Do this,” she said, pointing to a space between the barbs. “Look for the places where the sharps are bent down. Things aren’t always as they seem.”
Hana bent and peered harder at the lines of wire. Plier marks showed where someone created footholds. “Did you do this?” she asked, squinting up at Maihi. The old lady shrugged.
“Yep. It’s an escape route for you.”
“I won’t remember the way.” Hana peered beyond them into the bush, not able to see a way through the supplejack vines which twisted like spaghetti to head height.
“I’ll think of how I can mark it.” Maihi held out her hand to steady Hana as she scaled the wires. The bottom of her shorts caught on the nearest barb, almost causing her to face plant as she struggled to extricate herself. “You needed long pants,” the old woman commented and Hana rolled her eyes behind her back as they set off again. “Don’t disrespect me, girly,” she flung over her shoulder. Hana halted before a line of supplejack.
“What? You didn’t see that!”
“The tui told me.” Maihi pointed up into a punga and Hana spied the white bow tie between the ferns.
“No he didn’t,” she grumbled under her breath.
“Did too. Watch your footing.”
Hana stumbled along behind Maihi’s stout figure. “Come on,” the old woman urged her as though they ran a race. They climbed over and under the irritating supplejack vine, following the fence line and trying not to catch their skin or clothes on more barbs. Hana failed and her arms and legs sported ugly scratches.
“The gully is here,” Maihi called back as the land sloped downhill. Rocks and mud crumbled beneath Hana’s feet and she clung to the barbed wire fence and added her fingers to the list of injured body parts.
“How do I get back up again?” Hana squeaked as she slipped for the fifth time.
“You just will,” Maihi retorted. Her head disappeared as she navigated a series of ledges alongside running water. Hana followed, clinging to the wire and snagging her arms. Pausing for breath, she glanced up and saw the height of the canopy, sunlight dappling the ground as it earthed itself between the silver tree ferns.
“Watch out for bushman’s lawyer!” Maihi shouted over her shoulder as she reached the floor of the gully.
“Yeah, I already found it,” Hana groaned, snagged on the talons of a horrid, spindly plant.
They crossed the water at its narrowest point, jumping over it and clinging to stalks of grass on the other side of the gully. Maihi sprang like a d
eer and Hana followed like a hippo in a ballet outfit. Maihi pointed to the bubbling stream as it coursed over rocks. “This fills your second water tank,” she said. “It runs off the mountain.”
“Logan installed a water filter,” Hana replied and Maihi gave her a look of surprise.
“But it’s fresh,” she answered. Hana watched fallen leaves and a chocolate wrapper float past and nodded, deciding not to argue.
A wooden post and rail fence with a stile indicated the first sign of civilisation. It came after a gruelling upward climb and Hana panted at the top. Her palms bled and her fingers stuck together with orange mud. A herd of Friesian cows looked up from their chewing, eyeing the women with interest. Hana stuck to Maihi’s back, watching the animals over her shoulder. She trod through their lunch with anxiety in her gut as they turned to face them and took a few tentative steps forward. “They’re coming!” she hissed and Maihi gave a low chuckle. Hana gulped. “Are those horns!”
“They won’t use them on you,” she replied, her voice straining with the effort to hold in her belly laugh. “They just wanna see the white woman.”
“Oh.” Hana stopped and watched as the cows followed at a sedate and curious pace. Maihi’s violent laughter drove her on, knowing she’d fooled her guest.
“White woman!” she puffed, embarrassed by her gullible innocence. “I can’t believe you carried a casserole to our house,” she called and Maihi turned with a nonchalant shrug.
“When youse done it often enough, it’s easy.” She parted her lips in her honest smile and Hana loved her for it.
A large house moved into sight on the downward. Made of faded cedar, it wore a light blue tin roof. Hana exclaimed in surprise. “I can see this roof from the kitchen window! I didn’t know you lived here.”
“And I can see yours,” Maihi replied with a grin. “Youse are a bit higher than us.”
They stepped onto a covered porch and Maihi kicked off her red boots, leaving them in a heap by a blue door. Hana kicked off her filthy boots and followed Maihi inside.
“Wow, what an amazing design!” Hana gasped. She stood in the open space and admired the bare wooden rafters flying overhead. Skylights allowed the fading sunshine to filter in and scatter its joy over rimu floors and chintzy furniture. A staircase in the centre offered access to a mezzanine floor with a balustrade and bedroom doors running off its length. “It feels like a log cabin,” Hana said, admiring the wood. “I love it.”
“Thought you might.” Pride back-lit Maihi’s brown eyes and she nodded towards a stool at the counter. “Put youse kumu down.” She turned away and filled a kettle, placing it on an agar stove.
“Kumu?” Hana looked at her dirty hands.
“Ass.” Maihi patted her own significant buttocks and sniggered.
Catching the scent of rosemary and sage, Hana searched for the source. Looking up, she tracked it to a rail of drying herbs above her head. She made a beeline for the sink instead and ran her poor fingers under warm water. The liquid soap on the windowsill made her hiss with the stinging sensation.
“Whatchoo do?” Maihi handed her a drying towel and tutted at the state of her hands. She rummaged in a cupboard and handed over a box of plasters before going back to her tea making.
Hana sat on a chintz sofa, clutching her hot tea in hands encased in fabric Band-Aids. A gentle calm filled her soul and she relaxed for the first time in too long. She squinted at a framed photograph on the wall. A younger Maihi laughed with her head thrown back. A man with an enormous handlebar moustache held her in his arms and her ivory wedding dress cascaded to the floor. Hana recognised the building in the background and saw the distinctive meeting house at Turangawaewae Marae.
Maihi tracked her gaze and nodded. “He’s a great husband. I loved my first husband but counted myself fortunate to find love a second time.”
Hana’s breath caught in her chest and she pursed her lips. “You guessed.”
Maihi snickered. “One broken wahine recognises another. Logan is a good man. Hold onto him.”
Hana sighed. “I’m trying, but he possesses a death wish.”
“Finish your tea,” Maihi said. “Then we’ll take some cuttings.”
Maihi stood on the river aspect of her home and yanked out plants by the roots. Hana protested. “I don’t want to kill them,” she said. “I can’t seem to make things grow.”
“These will be fine.” Maihi yanked up another green stem, its pink flower bobbing as she shoved it into a carrier bag. “Cape Daisy can grow anywhere. Just dump it into the soil and it will survive. I love it because it flowers all year round.” Maihi stood up with a grunt. “There’s a white one around here somewhere. Ah, there it is.”
Hana followed her host around the property as the old woman selected suitable sacrifices to die in her neglected garden. “You ready for the return journey?” Maihi demanded as she shoved the bag of plants over her wrist at last. Hana’s confident nod looked forced, a wooden action filled with doubt. The older woman narrowed her eyes. “Try to take notice,” she ordered. “It’s your escape route should it all turn to custard at your place.”
Hana’s face paled and she hurried after Maihi’s determined figure. At the top of the paddock, the old woman paused, waiting for Hana to lurch after her. Letting her catch her breath for a moment, she pulled a length of string from her pocket. “I need youse to be able to find your way here and back,” she said, her face stern. “I’ll tie markers at various points along the way. They’ll fade with age and the weather, so take care to note where I put them.”
Hana nodded, her green eyes wide and frightened. She swallowed and her voice box jammed. Maihi reached out and touched her shoulder. “I don’t mean to scare you, kōtiro. My niece works at the video store in town and our uncle sits outside when the sun shines. Men came to town today, enquiring about a woman with red hair. My girl rang me earlier.”
“Oh.” The blood rushed to Hana’s face and she sank her bottom against a fence post. The waves of panic from earlier overwhelmed her with increasing force. “Oh, no.”
“Sit!” Maihi reached for her and forced her onto the wet ground. The beautiful view stretched out before her unseen. Hana put her head between her knees to quell the awful feeling of faintness. She felt the grass depress as Maihi sat next to her. “We gonna get wet asses, girly,” she said as she put her arm around Hana.
“Too late,” she replied, her voice muffled.
Maihi kissed Hana’s temple. “She never told them, my niece. Said she never heard of you. Told them we don’t gots no red haired women in our Māori stronghold. Then she phoned me. We don’t betray our own, not here my girl. Not in the kīngitanga.”
Hana heard the old woman’s sincerity and nodded with gratitude. “Have you met the Māori king?”
“Course. He’s my cousin. Stop changing the subject. You asked no questions, so I know you saw the men too.”
Hana held nothing back. Desperation laced her voice as she recounted her loss of safety. The stronghold of Ngaruawahia threatened to give her up. Maihi laughed at the tale of the dirty headscarf. They sat together as the wet soil leaked through Hana’s shorts and undies and made them as wet as Maihi predicted. “Come on girly,” she said finally. “We can’t sit here and hui all day!” She hefted Hana to her feet with a surprising grip and they progressed home through the bush.
At intervals, Maihi stopped to tie string to significant landmarks. The pale material disappeared into the landscape, but Hana struggled to memorise the route. Her survival may depend on it. Another hiker would never notice, but she banked on fear to recall it in an escape situation. Hana wondered as she fell over rocks and stumbled over roots, how she could possibly repay her neighbour’s kindness.
They reached Hana’s paddock and Maihi stooped to tie string to the area where she pressed the barbs flat. “A good tracker will find this,” she said, dispelling Hana’s temporary feelings of safety. “My niece thinks they’re just thug
s.”
Hana swallowed back the tea rising into her throat and chased away the sense of doom with a change of subject. She waved her arm to include the expanse of land between their houses. “Do you own all that land? Is the gully national park?”
Maihi’s snort sounded scornful. “I owned it once. Now you do.”
“What?” Hana gaped. “No, I don’t.” She cast her mind back to her copy of the deeds to Culver’s Cottage. Interested in the house, she never examined the surrounding land. She’d arranged to talk it over with Logan, but Caroline’s intervention meant she dealt with the final stages of the purchase alone. She swallowed and pointed back the way they came. “I bought it from you?”
Stopping to tie another marker as the paddock doglegged sharply downwards, Hana pressed Maihi for answers. The old woman pursed her lips. “You own ten hectares of what once belonged to my grandfather and his father before him. My father built the house I live in. My husband died young and my son took drugs. He took out loans and they came after me.”
Hana’s lips parted in surprise. “Not Hone?”
“No, no. I forget you met him. No, my other son. He’s in prison now. I sold the property to a Hamilton businessman to cover the debts and it left me bitter.”
“I’m so sorry.” Hana gnawed her lip and remembered Bodie’s youthful antics following his father’s death. A dark cloud threatened to settle on her shoulders and she shook it off. “Our kids put us through hell, don’t they?”
Maihi nodded and her lips looked down-turned and sad. “It’s good land. I miss having it. We reduced our stock to cope.”
Hana tripped over another hillock and sighed. “The businessman went bankrupt, didn’t he?”
Maihi jerked her head. “We still couldn’t afford to buy it back.”
“I’m not sure we’ll get any animals, so why don’t you graze here?”
Maihi stopped and Hana barrelled into the back of her, slipping as she grappled for her footing on the slope. The old woman watched her clamber upright again, a curious expression on her face. “Do you mean it?”
