A man was in it.
All I could see was his head. Then I saw a mirror slanted above the man’s head so that he could look at us. I will never forget his eyes. They widened, their irises opening out to enfold us all in his helplessness.
‘Buli-bash-aaa —’ As if only Grandfather could deliver him from the polio that had begun to cripple him. Or, failing that, give him death.
We didn’t stay long with Lloyd, but it was long enough for Grandfather to realise that Death was not after him. He calmed down and was strong and supportive to Lloyd, who was being transferred, at his parents’ request, to Waipukurau where they lived.
‘The Mahana family never forgets the people who join us,’ Grandfather said. ‘For as long as you live you will stay on the payroll. We will make sure that you have the best medical care to help you return to full health. Kia kaha.’
‘Th-ank y-ou,’ Lloyd stammered, his eyes wet with tears.
We left soon after. Grandfather, Grandmother and Mum kissed Lloyd on the forehead. Outside, Grandfather washed his hands at a tap and sprinkled himself with water. We set off back to Waituhi, and the further away we got from Cook Hospital the more Grandfather’s spirits revived. He’d come away from the House of Death unscathed.
Then, as we were going across the red suspension bridge, we saw a car coming from the other side. Oh no. Rupeni Poata’s Buick.
Mum started to slow down but Grandfather, buoyant, said, ‘Go faster, Huria. We were on the bridge first.’
Mum put her foot down. So did whoever was driving the Buick. Mum pressed the horn of the De Soto. There was an answering blare from the Buick. Mum dipped the lights: make way. The Buick’s lights dipped: you make way.
We were more than halfway across before Mum put her foot on the brakes. The De Soto skidded to a halt. So did the Buick. Just inches separated the two cars.
‘Back up!’ Caesar Poata yelled. Next to him were Tight Arse and Saul, blowing on their fists and indicating where they’d like to place them on my face.
‘You back up!’ Mum yelled back.
‘We were on the bridge before you!’
‘Oh no you weren’t. See? We’re already over halfway, and that proves it.’
‘You maniac woman!’ Caesar yelled.
While all this was happening, Grandfather was sitting in the back seat laughing to himself. Rupeni Poata was doing the same in the back of the Buick. Grandmother was silent and still. After a moment, Grandfather got out.
‘Keep the motor running,’ he said to Mum. His manner was breezy and lighthearted.
He walked over to the Buick. Rupeni Poata got out of his car. They faced each other like Burt Lancaster and the Clayton gang in Gunfight at the OK Corral. To add to the tension, traffic was piling up on either side of the bridge. Impatient drivers were sounding their horns.
Grandfather had his walking stick. He raised it above his head and — bang. He slammed it down on the Buick’s engine cowling.
Rupeni Poata looked at the damage and shook his head sorrowfully. He had a walking stick, too. Gauging his stroke, he lifted it and — bang. He slammed it down on the De Soto’s cowling. Amused, Rupeni Poata then bowed to Grandfather and indicated that he could boot one of his headlights if he wished. Grandfather indicated that Rupeni could do the same to the De Soto.
Stalemate. The two men tipped their hats and retired.
Grandfather got back into the De Soto. He smiled at Grandmother and then, ‘Gun them down,’ he ordered Mum.
Before Caesar Poata had time to start the motor or put on the brakes, Mum had engaged the Buick’s front bumper. Rupeni Poata had just enough time to leap ignominiously into his car.
‘Hold on, son,’ Mum said.
Tyres squealing, we pushed the Buick back across the bridge with the De Soto.
‘You crazy bitch!’ Caesar Poata yelled.
Did I forget to tell you that my mother could not abide bad language? At the words, murder came into Mum’s eyes. She pressed the accelerator right to the floor. It was all Caesar could do to keep the Buick from boomeranging off one side of the bridge and on to the other.
At the other end of the bridge the waiting cars scattered. The Buick skewed off in a cloud of dust. I caught a glimpse of Saul and Tight Arse’s frightened faces as the car came to a halt. Wouldn’t you know it? Rupeni Poata was obviously enraged, but with his face in rictus he looked as if he was laughing his head off.
‘Don’t call me a bitch,’ Mum whispered to herself. She was so wonderful when she had her wild up.
‘That will teach Rupeni Poata to come onto the bridge when we’re on it,’ Grandfather muttered.
Chapter 15
As if still recovering from her last car ride with Grandfather, my mother came on the school bus to Patutahi when she wanted to pay off some of our account at the general store.
‘Do you want me to come with you?’ I asked when the bus dropped us off.
‘No.’ She bit her lip. ‘You go on to school. Not long now before you break up, ne?’
‘Two whole weeks,’ I moaned. ‘Are you sure you don’t —’ I knew she was trying to change the subject.
‘Haere atu,’ she said.
I watched nervously as she hesitated, then walked up the steps and disappeared into the store.
‘Why, Mrs Mahana!’ I heard Miss Zelda say in her bright tinsel way. ‘Daisy? Scott? Mrs Mahana has come to visit.’
‘It’s so wonderful,’ Miss Daisy chimed in. ‘Since the shearing started, Zelda, all our Maori customers have been to see us.’
‘I don’t think we have one customer in the red any longer,’ Miss Zelda replied. ‘As I always say, Mrs Mahana, pay as much of your account now, because when that nasty winter comes —’
My mother didn’t say a word. I had a mental picture of her standing there, immobile, while the two sisters chattered to one another. She was a clockwork doll that had stopped working — an automaton with a silly smile on her face, mesmerised by what the sisters were saying, opening and closing her mouth but with no words coming out. I rushed inside. Sure enough, there she was, trying to talk, the perspiration beading her forehead, her cheeks crimson. I felt you only needed to give her a slight push and she would topple to the ground.
‘I–I — I —’
Miss Zelda and Miss Daisy were staring at Mum. ‘Isn’t that right, Mrs Mahana?’
‘Good morning, Miss Zelda,’ I said, breaking the spell.
Miss Zelda gave a cry. ‘Oh you startled us!’ she said.
Mum swayed. Blinked. Then recovered. ‘Yes, Miss Zelda,’ she said evenly. ‘That is right.’ She reached into her purse and passed the money that Dad had given her. Miss Zelda counted it.
‘My mother would like a receipt,’ I said.
Miss Zelda obliged.
‘Thank you.’
Mum and I walked out into the sunlight. She looked at me, pressed my shoulders and ran her fingers through my hair.
‘I wish you’d get your hair cut,’ she said. ‘Your grandfather is always talking about it.’
My mother sighed and began to walk back to Waituhi. I watched her reach the edge of the tar seal. She looked so lonely. A slight windstorm swirled around her, like a miniature tornado. She crossed over into dust country.
Chapter 16
The day finally came when school was out for the year. We were out of jail. Andrew and I wrestled all the way to the bus. Even before Haromi had left the playground, she’d slashed her lips with lipstick.