by Grant, D C
I struggled to find sleep that night. I tossed and turned on the bed. Unable to bear the confines of the single bed, I sat up, took up the crutches and hobbled through to the lounge, as quietly as I could. If Henry heard me, he didn’t get up.
The room was still warm with the remains of the fire glowing in the hearth. I stood in front of the wall of photographs, only faintly visible in the dull glow coming from the fire. These faces meant something to Henry, but not to me. They were his ancestors. The only one I knew was Rewi, standing proud in his traditional cloak, his mere in his hand. The last time I had seen him, he had been ordering the warriors where and how to shoot, a revolver in one hand and a knife in the other.
I recalled the slam of the bullet into Haki’s chest and had to sit down in a nearby armchair, as if I had really been hit. I knew it had been a dream, and yet, even then, it had felt so real. I remembered that Haki had felt no fear of death when he knew that his wound was fatal, just a sadness that he would not see Reka again. He had wanted the pain to end, knowing that the end of pain also meant death. Yet he welcomed it, assured that his spirit would travel through the water at Te Reinga and live forever in the land of his ancestors.
I didn’t know how I knew this, but I knew it with the certainty that Haki did. I wished I had the same assurance as he.
“So what do I do now?” I whispered to the silent photographs.
None of them spoke. In my state of mind, I probably wouldn’t have been surprised if they had. Outside a morepork called forlornly in the distance, echoing the emptiness of my heart. I knew I could no longer return to being the old Bevan; what had happened to me in this world, and in another, had changed me completely. The knowledge left me floundering – if I couldn’t be the old Bevan, I had no idea who or what the new Bevan was going to be. Like a baby, I had to discover a whole new range of experiences that would define the new Bevan. I didn’t think that was going to be easy.
I leant my head back with a sigh and closed my eyes. I fell asleep.
Chapter 38
Haki walked down the track that had once been the road through the village of Rangiaowhia. The track was overgrown, hardly visible through the long grass that encroached on it. The village was long gone. The people had abandoned it after the war, and most had died on the shores of Lake Taupo. The fields that had produced crops in such abundance had gone to weed, and now cows chewed the foliage to produce the milk the Pakeha loved so much.
He walked past the English church, still standing but surrounded now by nothing but weathered gravestones and empty fields. He carried on up the slope towards the Catholic church, its bones silhouetted against the evening sky. Most of it was gone, taken to Te Awamutu to build a new Catholic church closer to the people. He passed through the portico that led into the cemetery and made his way towards the two people who were standing next to a newly dug grave. On the mound of earth, a single rose lay, bright red, like blood. Haki came to a halt beside the grave and looked at the couple.
Toa had grown into a strong handsome man, but he wore Pakeha clothes and did not have a moko on his face. The woman beside him was white, the child of a convict, from the big island to the west known as Australia.
Haki turned to the grave and called to the woman who lay within it. She answered him, as he knew she would. Beside him, Toa bent down and dug a hole in the new earth with his bare hands, laying the soil aside. When he judged that it was deep enough, he laid in it the remains of a feathered cloak, then took from his belt a greenstone mere. Reverently Toa nestled the mere within the feathered clock and gently folded the corners of the cloak over it. Then he replaced the soil he had just removed, and stood up as tears ran down his face.
“I return the mere of my father to you, Mother. Hold it safe to your bosom until the time that our descendants have need of it again.”
Haki wished that Toa could see the woman that arose out of the grave, but knew that the boy could see neither her nor him, as they were both ghosts. For years Haki had waited, watched the village disappear, watched Toa grow up, watched Reka become old and finally die. But now he waited no longer. It was time to make the journey, a journey he had spurned so many years ago when he had died. He waited for his wife. Now she stood before him, young and beautiful as he remembered her. She reached out her hands and he took them in his. Together they turned to the north, towards Te Reinga and Hawaiki, where they would join their ancestors.
For a moment Reka lingered, looking at the son that she had raised on her own in the Pakeha world, then she turned to Haki and hand in hand they began the journey north.
I woke early in the morning before the sun came up. The fire had died and the room was cold. Shivering, I collected my clean clothes that had been left to dry by the fire and returned to my assigned bedroom to put on my prosthetic leg and get changed. I was sitting at the wooden table in the kitchen, hugging a cup of hot coffee when Henry got up.
“Did you sleep at all?” he asked as he reheated the kettle.
“I had a dream last night. I think it will be the last. In the dream Haki walked through the village, but the village had gone and he was a ghost. He walked to the cemetery where Toa buried the mere in Reka’s grave. Then Reka came out of the grave and joined Haki. They headed towards Cape Reinga.”
“Ah,” Henry said as he nodded. “Back to their ancestors.”
“I’m not sure why Toa was burying the mere. I had the feeling that he was leaving but I don’t know where he was going. Haki was sad about that. When Toa buried the mere he said it would remain there until his descendants had need of it again. I think that’s me. I believe I am here to take back the mere.”
“And do what with it?”
“I don’t know. But since I woke up, I’ve felt it tugging at me. I have to find it.”
“So it’s the mere that has drawn you here. That makes sense. The mere carries the mana of your ancestors. It has come to you at this time to give you strength.”
I looked up at him. “At least you don’t think I’m mad. I must find the grave. If I do find it, I will know that it was all real, that it all happened and that these really are my ancestors. If the grave is not there, then I will say that it was all a hallucination caused by the drugs they fed me in hospital, and the ones I took myself. Either way I will get in my car and leave.”
“And go where?”
“Back home – well, as close as I can get to home before the cops catch up with me. I will be arrested, I suppose, but I’ll just have to face what’s coming to me and deal with it. Even if I find out that I experienced was only dreams, I can at least say that they gave me the strength to go through with it.”
Henry nodded as he drank his coffee.
“When do you want to go?”
“Now would be good, before I change my mind.”
“Just give me time to get ready and I shall take you.”
We drove in silence. The sun was still coming up and mist hung around in the troughs of the road, like a net waiting to catch us, to prevent us from going further, but we burst through and when we got to the ridge where the church was, the sun had risen, lighting up the land around us as we slowed to a stop alongside the entrance to the cemetery – all that remained of the Catholic mission. I got out slowly and stood at the wooden gateway, uncertain. Henry stood beside me.
“Do you know which one it is?”
I shook my head. In my dream there had been the remains of a church and a mission station, as well as the cemetery, but that was all gone now. We passed through the gate and on into the cemetery. The graves were untended, some stones having fallen and the lettering on them worn away by wind and rain. How was I to find one grave amongst all these? I closed my eyes and recalled the dream, trying to visualise the spot at which Toa had stood, and trying to remember what the headstone looked like. I opened my eyes and walked forward, unsure of which direction to take.
“It looks different now,” I said. “I’m not sure that I can find it, if it’s here at all.”
I lifted my head and looked out to the countryside. It had looked a bit like this when Toa looked out; maybe there were more bushes and trees, but I recognized the landscape all the same.
“Over this way, I think,” I said, moving towards the fence line.
I felt a tug inside me, as if there was a rope pulling me along. With more certainty I walked up to a grave, its headstone chipped and the lettering faded. I stood still in front of it as I read the words, knowing the implications of having found it. Henry came to stand beside me and began to say a karakia. Tears ran down my face – I had found Reka.
I waited while Henry finished the karakia.
“The mere is here,” I said, looking down at the earth in front of the gravestone. “What do I do?”
“Does it call to you?”
I looked down at the ground and felt that tug again. “Yes.”
“Put your hands in the ground. If it wants you, it will come to you.”
I bent down with Henry’s help and put my hands on the grass, feeling the earth tremble beneath them, then they disappeared under the soil and I felt something hard under my palms. I folded my fingers around it and pulled it from the earth. A greenstone mere, Haki’s mere, warm in my hands, power flowing from it into my body. Remnants of cloth and feathers from the cloak were still attached to it, and I gently brushed them off before holding up the artefact, which glistened in the rising sun.
“Te kaha, te kaha,” I heard a voice say. It wasn’t Henry. I looked up – there were people all around me. I didn’t know where they had come from; we had been alone, Henry and I, when we entered the cemetery.
“Kia ora,” I said to them all, not sure why they had come. They continued to look at me without talking. I tried to stand up, but fell backwards, momentarily off balance. When I looked again the people had gone.
“Where’d they go?” I asked Henry as he helped me up.
“Who?”
“All the people.”
“There’s no one here but you and me. Ah, that must have been your tupuna.”
“All of them?’
“Yes, all of them. It’s up to you now to trace them all, now that you know where to start.”
As I steadied myself on my feet, I saw that there was only one figure remaining behind the headstone. It was the old man who had started it all: Piripi, Reka’s grandfather and therefore my ancestor. I hadn’t seen him amongst all the people who’d been there before but now he stood alone and I thought it appropriate that, just had as he had appeared to me in the beginning, now he appeared to me at the end, for I knew that this was the end.
I held the mere in front of me and shook my hand, making the mere dance, and stuck out my tongue while I rolled my eyes back, breaking into a haka – a haka I didn’t know, but still managed to accomplish with my plastic leg.
As the final note died away, the image of the old man shimmered and faded into the landscape behind.
“He’s gone,” I said as I turned to Henry.
“Your journey is complete.”
“The worst is yet to come,” I said as we walked back towards the entrance to the graveyard. “I have to go back. I’ll head home. That’s if the cops don’t catch me first.”
“The mere will give you strength.”
“But it is too valuable to take back with me. If the cops find it, they’ll confiscate it. You take it, keep it safe with you.”
“No, Bevan, it is too great a treasure for me to have. It belongs to you, it has drawn you here because it knew you would need it, you cannot leave it behind now. Take it with you, it will find a way to hide itself.”
Chapter 39
I wondered how far I would get before the cops caught me. The answer was Papakura. At least I was able to reach Auckland. I guess the country cops weren’t expecting me that far out.
I pulled the car over when I heard the sirens behind me and stopped the car. The mere lay on the seat next to me. I touched it before the cop approached my door. Another car pulled up in front of me and two more cops came out. I kept my hands on the steering wheel in clear view. I didn’t know if they were armed but I wasn’t going to take a chance.
“Get out of the car, slowly, keep your hands where I can see them.”
Slowly I got out of the car.
“Turn around, hands on the car,” the first cop instructed.
Once I had my hands on the car, the cop came up behind me, slapped the handcuffs on one wrist, drew it down then snapped it on the other wrist.
“Bevan Campbell?” the cop asked.
“Yes.”
“You’re under arrest.”
I watched as a cop searched the car, expecting him to find the mere and take it away.
“What’s this?” he said as my heart fell. I looked over to see that he was holding the bottle of liquor. I had forgotten it was there. “Where did you get this?”
I shook my head, having seen enough cop shows to know that it was best to say nothing.
“Bevan Campbell, you’re under arrest for …”
I tuned him out after that. My eyes were on the mere in plain sight on the front seat but unseen by the cops around me.
I picked up the phone and dialled Mark’s number.
“Hello?” he answered.
“Mark, it’s Bevan.”
“Bevan? Where are you? Are you all right?”
“I’m in the police station. I’ve been arrested. This is my one permitted phone call.”
“You should have called your family. They’ve been worried about you.”
“I wanted to phone you first, because you would understand what I had to do. I’ve been to Rangiaowhia.”
There was a moment’s silence. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
“Yes, I did.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’ll call your family too.”
“No, don’t, Mark, not until we’ve spoken.”
“I’m sorry, Bevan, but I’m not going to do that. Your family has had an anxious three days and I’m not going to prolong that. You should know Gina …”
“Don’t talk to me about Gina,” I interrupted. “Call my family if you want, but I won’t talk about Gina.”
I put the receiver down before Mark could say anything more.
They led me back to the cell and closed the metal door on me. I sat, staring at the bare wall, waiting. Time passed, I don’t know how much since they had taken my watch, but eventually the door opened and a policeman led me into a stark interview room. Mark was seated at the table but he stood up when I came in, took my hand, pulling me in close so that we pressed noses in hongi. I noticed that he was wearing his ministerial collar – I guessed it gave him ready access to the police station.
“Was it what you expected?” he asked as we sat down.
“I didn’t know what to expect. Let’s just say it got a little crazy down there and that I didn’t even need to be asleep to have visions.”
“I guess that could happen when you are close to the source.”
“I did make a decision though, and you should be the first to know.” I took a deep breath. “Once, in one of my dreams, Haki came back from fighting and had to wash in a stream while a tohunga said a karakia. Afterwards the tohunga said that they were made noa.”
“Ah, the tapu was lifted,” Mark said. “Whakanoa.”
“That’s what I want to do – whakanoa, like you asked me before the accident.”
“You want to be baptized?”
I nodded. “If it was good enough for Haki, then it’s good enough for me. I want the tapu lifted. I want to reclaim my whakapapa and I want to find my turangawaewae, but most of all, I want to publicly acknowledge that I am now a different person. That’s the way I want to do it.”
Mark frowned and looked around the bare room. “Well, we can’t do it in here.”
“When I get out, whenever that is.”
“Your dad’s at the front desk now, trying to get you out but they’re saying yo
u have to appear in court first before bail is set. And you won’t get to court until at least tomorrow or the day after. Your dad’s trying to push things along. Not sure how far he’ll get with that. Things are bad. Mitch and Scott are saying that you put them up to it, that it was all your idea.”
“Liars,” I spat. “I didn’t know what they were going to do. Believe me, Mark, I just wanted to get wasted, not waste someone else. It’s why I dumped them, told them to get the hell out of my car, because I didn’t want anything to do with it.”
“Too late by then, you were involved, whether you liked it or not. Perhaps it would have been different if you hadn’t have run, got to the police before they got to your mates, but it’s going to be their word against yours.”
“Shit!” I said and ran my hands through my hair. “I’ll be going to jail then.”
“Unless Mitch and Scott change their story.”
“Yeah right!” I exclaimed. “I should have stayed away after all.” But even as I said it, I knew it wasn’t an option.
“There is some good news,” Mark said with a smile. “Gina …”
“Don’t talk to me about Gina …”
“Listen for once, Bevan, just listen! Gina didn’t go through with the abortion. She’s been staying at your place while you’ve been gone and your parents have been looking after her. She’s still carrying the baby. She’s waiting for you to come home. She’s hoping you’ll forgive her and take her back.”
At first I couldn’t believe it, but as I stared at him I realized that what he was saying was true – Mark wouldn’t lie.
“Where is she?”
“She’s here, with your parents. She wanted me to tell you first because she thought you’d be too mad at her and wouldn’t believe her. She’s scared you won’t forgive her.”
I stared at him. “She is the mother of my child. I have seen the past and now I see the future. This is only a moment in time and none of this will matter a few years from now. Of course I forgive her.”
