Song of the Sound

by Jeff Gulvin

  Bree leaped on board as they docked and Libby scooped her up and held her. John-Cody threw on the stern line while Jonah secured the bows. Bree kissed her mother, then wriggled from her grasp and made her way astern where she flung herself on John-Cody. ‘Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,’ she said.

  ‘Hey, Breezy, no worries.’

  Silent tears ran on Bree’s cheeks then she grinned broadly and wiped them with the back of her hand. ‘She can be a pain at times, John-Cody, but she’s the only mother I’ve got.’ She looked the length of the boat to where Libby was talking to Alex.

  ‘Where’s Tom?’

  John-Cody held her by the shoulders. ‘I’m afraid Tom is dead, Bree. We lost him overboard in the storm.’

  Bree stared at him, then the tears filled her eyes again and she clung to him and this time she sobbed and sobbed. John-Cody held her very close, feeling the sobs rack her body and staring at his reflected image in the oily black of the water. Libby walked the length of the deck and laid a hand on Bree’s shoulder. For a moment the three of them remained like that, John-Cody looking into Libby’s face with Bree buried in his chest.

  Alex drove them home. When they pulled up outside the house John-Cody was almost dropping with fatigue, so weary he could hardly prise himself from the car.

  Libby took his hand and guided him towards the door but he held back and asked Alex for the keys to his truck.

  ‘I’ve got to go and see Ellen Blanch. I can’t let anyone else tell her about Tom.’

  ‘Then let me drive you,’ Libby said.

  ‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘Stay here with Bree.’

  Alex said she would drive him and John-Cody got back in the car and they drove the short distance to Tom’s house on View Street. Wearily he climbed out and fumbled for the comfort of the tangi-wai stone in his pocket. His grip tightened around it as he saw Ellen waiting for him in the doorway, white-haired and suddenly very frail: he realized then that she knew.

  Bree made her mother a cup of tea and she sat and held it with both hands, letting the steam play over her face. Bree watched her from where she leaned against the kitchen work surface and Sierra trotted over and rested her head on Libby’s lap. Libby stared at the crackling fire that Bree had laid in readiness and was aware of a fatigue deep in her soul. She was still sitting there when she heard a car pull up and then the front door opened and John-Cody stood there. His face was the colour of old parchment, faded and lined, seamed in veins of blue. He leaned in the doorway as if unsure of his legs.

  ‘Did you see her?’ Libby asked him.

  He nodded.

  ‘You need to sleep.’

  Again he nodded. Libby rose from her seat, set her cup down and held out a hand. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘I’ll help you.’

  John-Cody stumbled like a blind man, taking Libby’s hand and following her to the bedroom he had shared with Mahina.

  Libby sat him on the bed and tugged off his boots. He pulled his sweater and shirt over his head and she unbuckled his jeans and slipped them down his legs. He stood naked before her and she looked at the smooth hardness of his body. Then she eased the duvet back and he sank into the bed and was asleep before his head touched the pillow.

  Libby watched as he lay motionless, his face like death. When she picked up his jeans the green stone that Mahina had given him fell out and she held it, working her fingers over the edges, and then laid it on the dressing table. Looking round, she saw Bree watching her from the doorway.

  ‘You do love him, don’t you?’

  Libby nodded. ‘Very, very much.’

  Bree smiled then. ‘I’m going to meet Hunter. You should sleep too, Mum. You look exhausted. I won’t disturb you when I come in.’

  Libby smiled and nodded and when Bree had gone she sat down on the bed. John-Cody lay silent before her, unmoving. There was no sound, just the faintest rise and fall of the duvet.

  Naked, she slipped into bed next to him and rested on her elbow, feeling the softness of his breath on her flesh. Leaning lower she moved her face over his, her nose, mouth, the weight of her cheek: just touching lightly, tracing the contours of his features with her own, not kissing but smoothing herself against him. He lay like stone, lost somewhere far from her. She watched him for a while then sleep began to weigh against her eyes and she kissed him on the mouth and lay back, her head against the coolness of the pillow.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  LIBBY WOKE BEFORE HIM in the morning: she had no idea what the time was, only that it was late and there was no sound from the living room next door. Getting up, she slipped on a robe and went through. Bree’s room was empty. She had got herself up, had breakfast and headed off to the bus without waking them. The clock on the cooker read nine fifteen. Libby looked at the sky through the window: low cloud, very white and threatening snow. There was a chill to the air and she banked up the fire with coal and went back to the bedroom. John-Cody lay on his side, still sound asleep, and Libby climbed in next to him. He stirred and mumbled something and she whispered in his ear and smoothed her palm across his brow. She slept again and when she woke he was sitting on the edge of the bed in a bathrobe, holding a cup of tea. She rubbed her face and sat up and the duvet slipped below her breasts and she saw the desire all at once in his eyes. Taking the cup from him she set it down then reached for the collar of the robe and drew him to her. He eased the duvet aside and neither of them spoke as he climbed on top of her, pushing her legs apart and slowly, gently, entered her.

  They lay in the moisture of their bodies and held on to each other as if their lives depended on it. John-Cody stared at the ceiling, at the wood panelling on the walls.

  ‘What do you see?’ Libby asked him.

  ‘I see you.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  Raising himself on one elbow, he looked round the room. ‘Mahina’s gone from here. I kept her longer than I should have, but she finally left at the Aucklands.’ He let the breath seep from between his teeth and then he told her what she already knew, how he had dived to kill himself: how he had dived with only twenty minutes of air and Moby Dick had sought him out in the depths of Port Ross. He told her how the whale had looked into his soul and as he did so Mahina had risen in his eye. He lay back in the bed, Libby in his arms with the weight of her breasts against him.

  ‘I wasn’t sure then. I’d been challenged. Cracks in my armour, I guess. I wasn’t sure of anything. But when we saw that calf in the water the following day, I was so desperate for it to live I knew I had to go on.’

  He thought about it all then. Three days and he would be back in the United States.

  ‘I’ve got to leave,’ he said. ‘I haven’t even bought a plane ticket. I can’t afford for immigration to provide me with one.’

  Again Libby smoothed his face. ‘I want to come with you.’

  He took her hand and kissed it. ‘Stay here. You’ve got the Dusky Sound research to work on.’

  ‘I don’t want to do my research without you.’

  ‘I want you to. With me gone, you’re the only person between Pole and those hotels. You must go on.’

  ‘What will you do?’ she asked him.

  ‘I don’t know. I have no idea what’s going to happen when I set foot back in the US.’

  Tears glistened in Libby’s eyes. ‘I want to be with you, John-Cody.’

  ‘You can’t. Stay here. Live here. Get the Korimako fixed for me. Bree wants to stay here, remember. She deserves some stability.’

  ‘Bree wants me to marry you.’

  He smiled then. ‘I know.’

  ‘You heard her on the radio. She wants it more than anything.’

  ‘She’ll be OK.’

  Libby looked at him, hand fisted in the sheet. ‘And what about you?’

  John-Cody sighed. ‘I have to face the past. Whether I want to admit it or not it’s been there at the back of my mind for a quarter of a century. Maybe Ned did me a favour.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

/>   He shrugged. ‘I don’t either. But I don’t have a choice. If I’m not out of here by Thursday they’ll arrest me and I won’t be allowed anywhere near the place for five long years: I can’t have that, Libby, not if you’re here.’ He got up. ‘Help me pack, would you? We don’t have much time.’

  Bree cried and cried when they told her. She went to her room and for a while she was absolutely distraught. Libby and John-Cody sat in the living room by the fire and waited till she had calmed down then John-Cody went through to her room.

  ‘Hey, Breezy.’

  Bree looked up at him, her face red with tears. She smudged a hand over her eyes.

  ‘I don’t want you to go. Why does this always happen to me? Just when I think for once everything is going to work out, something happens to ruin it.’

  He sat next to her and she took his hand and traced patterns on his palm with her fingers. ‘I don’t want you to go.’

  ‘You’ll be OK.’ John-Cody lifted her chin so she looked at him. ‘You’ll have your mum and Alex and Hunter. You’ll have Sierra and your schoolmates.’

  ‘I want you.’ Bree hugged him then, holding very tight.

  ‘And I want you. But I have to go back to America.’

  ‘But why? Why did Mr Pole do this?’

  John-Cody shrugged. ‘I don’t know, Bree. I’ve been trying to figure it out myself.’ He stood up. ‘Maybe this is revenge, finally, after what happened to poor Eli.’ He blew out his cheeks. ‘Don’t think badly of him. He helped you out big time, didn’t he?’

  ‘I wish he hadn’t.’ Bree’s eyes smarted. ‘I wish I’d never ridden his horses. I never will again.’

  Bree went to school the next day and at lunchtime she joined John-Cody and her mother for Tom Blanch’s memorial service in the church on Mokonui Street in Te Anau. The building was packed with fishermen and townspeople and they spilled out into the yard. Bree saw Ned Pole head and shoulders above most of those paying their respects, with his wife standing next to him. Afterwards everyone went to the cemetery to bless a stone John-Cody had commissioned and when the blessing was over they all filed away. Bree had watched John-Cody and watched Ned Pole and noticed that neither man looked at the other all the time the service was going on. After it was over John-Cody guided Ellen Blanch to her car and travelled back with her and Libby. Bree told them she would walk back to school to meet Hunter at the bus stop. She stood for a while by the memorial, which was simply inscribed: Dearest Tom Blanch: cherished husband and friend.

  The cemetery emptied quickly. The people of Te Anau were well used to funerals after the helicopter wars and all the fishermen who had been lost over the years. Bree was one of the last to leave and she was about to go when she noticed a figure crouched by a grave at the top of the hill. Picking her way between the stones she drew closer and recognized Ned Pole. He was laying fresh flowers on Elijah’s grave.

  He must have heard or felt her approach because he looked over his shoulder and their eyes met. His gaze was stern for an instant as if she had interrupted a precious private moment and then his eyes softened and he beckoned her.

  ‘How are you, little lady?’

  She stood with her hands behind her back, eyes sharp, jaw trembling all at once. She could feel the pounding of her heart, thinking just how tall he was when he stood up. She had to do this though and she screwed her courage to the sticking point.

  ‘Why did you do it?’

  Pole frowned. ‘Do what exactly?’

  ‘Tell the government about John-Cody.’

  Pole was silent.

  ‘Was it because of him?’ Bree pointed to Elijah’s headstone.

  ‘Bree

  ‘Was it? I don’t think he would have wanted you to. From what you’ve told me — he wouldn’t have wanted you to do that.’

  ‘Bree, I didn’t tell the…’ Pole stopped himself. How could he explain?

  ‘John-Cody said you did. My mum said you did.’

  ‘It’s not as simple as that.’

  ‘He was going to marry my mum. I know he was.’ Bree bit down on her lip.

  Pole took a pace towards her. ‘Bree, there’s things you don’t understand.’

  Bree stepped back. ‘You mean like Dusky Sound. I do understand. You want to put hotels there and they don’t want you to. That’s no reason to get rid of John-Cody.’ Tears fell from her eyes now.

  ‘Bree, don’t cry. Please. Look, it’s not like you think it is. Nothing’s ever that simple. There’s business to think about and people’s lives.’

  ‘But it’s so unfair. He’s been here such a long time. This is his home. He’s such a good man. He hasn’t done anything wrong.’

  Pole wrinkled his eyes at the corners and he looked beyond her, into the future and back into the past. ‘You’re right. He hasn’t done anything wrong.’

  ‘Then stop it. Stop what’s happening. Tell them to leave him alone.’

  ‘I can’t.’ Pole lifted his hands, dropped them at his sides again. ‘I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do now.’ He stepped towards her again, but she backed away from him.

  ‘Bree.’

  Bree was trembling. ‘You’ve ruined my life. I thought it was getting better but you’ve gone and ruined it.’ She walked away, stumbled and then looked back at him. ‘I never want to ride your horses again. I’m never coming to your house. I’ll tell Hunter the same. You shouldn’t have sent him away.’

  ‘Bree.’

  ‘He could have been my father!’

  For a long time after she was gone her words echoed in Pole’s ears. The wind lifted and he could sense the snow in the air. He drew his coat around him and looked back at the headstone and the grass and the flowers where the wind had already scattered the petals. Slowly he drove home and, parking the truck, he sat in the cab smoking a black cigar and watching the horses in the paddock. This place would be saved now, but all at once he was weary of it. He could see Jane on the telephone in the study, standing at the full-length window overlooking the balcony. He stared up at her and he thought of Mahina, as he always did, like a shadow that no amount of sunlight could penetrate. He saw her in his mind’s eye naked in the bush: and the breath caught in his throat and he smelled the blood of the deer and the resinous tang of death.

  John-Cody stood with his bag in his hand and looked at Libby. She had driven him to Christchurch airport and he was about to board a plane for Los Angeles. He could not quite believe it. Everything had been so rushed. His palms were moist and his brow hot, sweat running off him as if he had a fever. He looked at Libby now and realized just how deeply he was in love with her. ‘I don’t know what to say to you.’

  She looked into his face. ‘Just don’t forget about me.’

  ‘Forget?’ He shook his head. ‘God, Libby.’ Dropping his bag he caught her up in his arms. ‘How could I forget?’

  She was soft and smelled of womanhood, hair in his face the very scented essence of her. John-Cody felt the weight in his gut and he held her a moment longer then gently eased her away. ‘Say goodbye to Bree again for me,’ he said. ‘And get the boat fixed, please.’

  Libby cupped his cheek. ‘I need to know what happens as soon as anything does.’

  John-Cody managed a smile. ‘Lib, they’ll allow me one phone call, whether they’ll let it be long distance I don’t know.’ He saw the fear break against her eyes and he smoothed her hair. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll figure it somehow.’ He wanted to be alone: he didn’t want to prolong this. ‘I’ll call you.’ He stood a moment longer. ‘Go and see Ellen Blanch for me. She was married to Tom for almost forty years. She’s really going to miss him.’

  ‘John-Cody.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘As soon as my work is done I’ll come and find you. I’ll bring Bree.’

  ‘I don’t know where I’ll be.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. I’ll find you.’

  He looked at her and she looked at him, then she kissed him one more time and turned. She walked with a s
traight back and didn’t look round: he watched her go until she passed through the automatic doors and stepped out into the night. He reached in his jeans pocket for the familiar comfort of the tangi-wai stone, but it wasn’t there. He searched the other pocket and then he cursed under his breath: he’d left it lying on the dressing table at home.

  He paid his airport tax and was about to go through to the departure lounge when a row of telephones stopped him. There was something he had to do; something he had to know before he finally left New Zealand. Taking a handful of change from his pocket he picked up the phone and dialled.

  It was late and Kobi was probably asleep, but John-Cody knew the old man had the phone by his bed and he answered in three rings.

  ‘Kobi, it’s me, Gib. Sorry to wake you.’

  ‘That’s OK, mate, how you going?’

  ‘I’m at the airport.’

  The old man was silent for a moment. ‘It’s really happening then.’

  ‘Yes, I’m afraid it is.’

  ‘I’ll miss you, you old joker. Another one of you leaving me.’ He hissed breath through his teeth.

  ‘Kobi, I don’t have much time but there’s something I need to know.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Mahina. I know she used to confide in you after her mother died. I need to know something I think she might have told you. Did she ever have a relationship with Ned Pole?’

  Kobi was quiet for a moment then he cleared his throat. ‘You asked me that already. The answer is no, mate, she didn’t.’