This is what Rupeni saw. An old kuia, one of the guests, stepped forward and began to call, ‘Haere mai ki te wahine na, haere mai, haere mai, haere mai.’ Her voice was high-pitched, formal. Far in the distance, along the road which ran through the maize fields, the bridal party was coming. Ramona was escorted by her weeping mother, father, sisters, brothers and relatives. She was in the middle, her face veiled. A beautiful feather cloak was over her shoulders and white wedding dress.
From that distant bridal party came the reply, ‘Karanga mai, karanga mai, karanga mai.’ The reply was pitched even higher, and throbbed with emotion. Everybody knew that Grandmother was making a sacrifice. Rupeni was oblivious to all except his own lust and passion.
Ramona walked with her head held high; the rest of the bridal party were watching the road so they could avoid the horse shit and potholes. Ramona was silent, unlike her sisters who were yelling out to the mangy old dogs that dashed out to snap at them. Her pride had made her inviolate to such barking creatures. She was otherworldly, seeming to float above everything crass and mundane.
Rupeni heard the voice of the priest beside him. ‘You should come inside now and wait for your bride at the altar.’
Rupeni shook his head. He was entranced by Ramona’s beauty and sadness. He waited. Finally she was there. He looked upward into her eyes. The boldness of her stare made him look away.
By this time, Ramona was having a change of heart.
I watched Aunt Ruth’s lips. I felt like switching her voice off, as if it was a radio, and mouthing along with her lips.
Rupeni heard Ramona say, ‘Mother take the cloak from my shoulders. It is a royal cloak and should not be sullied by such an event as this.’
Rupeni laughed. His lips curled into a sneer. He saw Ramona’s tears of anger.
‘Although you weep for another man,’ Rupeni said, ‘you will always be mine. I own you as surely as I do my horse, my cattle, my sheep, my farm.’
Defiant, Ramona answered, ‘I marry you only to give you the comfort of my body for a week before you leave for Europe. Yes, I might have a child by you and, if so, I will love that child. I do this for my family and yours. You could have spoken against the arrangement. Instead you take advantage of me because I am the most beautiful girl you have ever seen and a virgin. You are a rogue, a cur and a bounder, sir, and I hate you. Will you not let me go?’
‘Never, never,’ Rupeni hissed. ‘I will take you to my bed and make you mine.’
‘So be it,’ Ramona said, ‘but never assume my throes will be passion. I spit on your bed and I spit on you. Though you may take my body repeatedly in the night, my innermost soul and my heart will never be yours. Never, never, never, never.’
‘The preacher coughed for attention,’ Aunt Ruth said. ‘He began to beckon everyone inside the church.’
That is when it happened.
A thrumming of hooves came echoing along the road between the fields of maize. A handsome young lover was seen, spurred on by passion for his woman.
‘It was our father,’ Aunt Ruth continued, eyes afire. ‘The thought of losing our mother was too much to bear. Impetuous, he rode his white horse right to the church steps —’
The tinted oval photograph comes to life again.
‘Ramona-aaaa —’
Ramona gives a cry. She sees the sunlight flashing in Tamihana’s curly brown hair and the desperation in his sparkling green eyes. She turns to her father.
‘Forgive me, e pa —’
Tamihana is galloping in slow motion, scattering the crowd, his horse’s hooves scything the air like silver swords.
Rupeni’s groomsmen try to stop Tamihana. They grab at the reins of his white horse. He eludes them and in a trice is reaching for Ramona. Only Rupeni is between him and his prize.
A gasp comes from the crowd. Rupeni has a knife and he slashes at Grandfather’s face. Blood beads Tamihana’s left cheek, spilling dark red rubies on Grandmother’s white dress.
‘Oh my love —’ Ramona cries.
Laughing like Douglas Fairbanks in a swashbuckling movie, Grandfather leans down, knocks Rupeni to the ground with one heroic blow, scoops Grandmother up into his arms and turns his white horse away.
Glory clasped her hands with delight at Aunt Ruth’s story. As for me, was I surprised? Was I what!
‘True love gave your grandparents the wings of eagles,’ Aunt Ruth said to Glory. ‘They rode and rode —’
‘Into the sunset,’ I murmured.
‘And Rupeni couldn’t find them,’ my aunt continued, trying to poke me with her foot. ‘He left for Europe and by the time he returned from the war your grandparents were already married and raising the family in Waituhi.’ She paused. ‘And of course,’ she added hastily, ‘they lived happily ever after.’
Aunt Ruth’s voice drifted into the darkness. The radiator of Pani’s car popped and hissed as it cooled.
An hour later we were able to pour some water into it and get on our way again. It was getting on for half-past twelve. Then, crack. Pani’s second headlamp went out.
‘E koe,’ we said before our mother could open her mouth.
‘Aue,’ she agonised, ‘Kei te haramai a Dracula ki konei!’ Dracula will get us now for sure. She had been to see Bela Lugosi in Dracula a month before. Dracula was even worse than kehua because he sucked your neck.
We stopped again. Dad went over to talk to Pani.
‘We should shoot your car,’ Dad said, ‘and put it out of its misery. Never mind. You follow us. And look —’ He pointed to the moon, rising full across the sky, lending silver light to the road ahead. ‘Who needs lights when we have the moon to show us the way?’
My mother wasn’t so sure. A full moon meant that Dracula would find us easy.
By that time our mother’s anxiety was affecting us as well. We kept on saying, ‘Hurry up, Dad, make the car go faster.’ Dracula was already following us. He was coming over the hills. His mouth was opened and his fangs were starting to grow and –
Saved! Ahead was the sign for the Williamson station and, beyond, the track leading along the side of the hill past the two-storeyed house where the boss lived, to the shearing shed and shearers’ quarters beyond. But what was that? Luminous green eyes staring at us from out of the darkness! Vampires! We screamed.
Only sheep. Phew.
A lamp was shining in one of the quarters.
‘Is that you, Joshua?’ Uncle Hone called.
‘Ae,’ Dad said.
‘Good,’ Uncle Hone continued. ‘Early start tomorrow. You and your family are in with Sam Whatu’s family. Pani, you’re in bunking with the single men. Sephora, you and Esther are in with Auntie Molly. Ruth? Albie’s over in the quarters next door. He’s been waiting eagerly for you all night.’
‘I’ll bet,’ Aunt Ruth said.
By torchlight and moonlight we unpacked the two cars — the bedding first, so that my aunts and Mum could make up the beds for us; then our belongings, stores and provisions for the kitchen, twenty-five yards away next to a small stream. Finally, Dad and Pani took out the handpieces, blades and assorted equipment they would need for tomorrow’s shearing. I could hear them talking as they worked; Pani sounded unusually anxious. Apparently Mahana One, on their way to Horsfield station, had come across Poata Three.
‘Are you sure?’ Dad asked.
‘That’s what Maaka told Hone,’ Pani said.
‘Could he have made a mistake?’
‘No. They came around a bend in the road and, hello, there were the Poatas as plain as day. They looked like they’d just come from the Horsfields. Anyway no sooner had they seen Mahana One than they scooted off in the other direction.’