Keri Hulme - The Bone People

Joe arrived before seven the next morning, creeping up the stairs in the near dark and whistling her awake.

He clucked over his child's bruised face, over the obvious pain he showed walking, and — strangely to Kerewin's eyes — held Simon's hands a long moment, and said something very softly and very quickly, so she couldn't catch the words.

He refused coffee or breakfast for either of them.

"I've got an appointment, out of surgery, so I'll go along now," he said. "We'll see you soon."

She didn't see either of them for over a week.

"What else was there?"

She stands on the footpath, tapping the stick thoughtfully, carefully, against her teeth.

Of course, tobacco. What you came to town originally for. Sweet hell, who else could blunder through life like this but me?

A car slams on its brakes, stopping with a squeal a couple of yards before her. The driver curses and leans on his horn. Up you, thinks Kerewin, and keeps on strolling across the road.

In the sweet tobacco-scented gloom of the little shop, she says to Emmersen behind the counter,

'You ever noticed how the only time traffic moves in this one-horse town is when you go to cross the street? I think they sit there, waiting for hapless pedestrians."

Emmersen grins obligingly. He'd seen the near-accident from the window. He doesn't say what he thinks. Kerewin is too good a customer.

I managed to get you some more of that Dutch aromatic," he says.

"Goodoh. I'll have it. Any Sobranies?"

His eyes flick to the side, "Gidday!" he says, and then he smiles back at her, "I got some, yes."

A pair of thin hands wind themselves round the middle of the stick at her side.

"Well, I never, look who's here-"

Simon P, with a smile all over his face and his eyes green blue as a hot summer sea.

Me! he mouths, and grins more broadly still.

"Yeah, who else?" she laughs and reaches a hand to him.

"Well, possibly me?"

Joe is standing in the shop doorway, with a grin as broad as his son's.

"Berloody oath! I thought you two had gone walkabout or something-"

Ah dammit, slow down heart… ridiculous, ridiculous, you who love your own company, you should be feeling dour not spasming with delight.

"Tena koe," he adds, and comes to her, and places his hands on her shoulders, and hongis quickly. "If we'd known you were going to be glad to see us, we would have come much sooner-"

She shakes Simon's hand, "It's good to see you both again," peering hard at the boy, "and you're looking remarkably good."

"In all senses of the word," says Joe cheerfully. "Has it ever been a quiet week… better get him squashed like that more often eh?" He laughs and scuffles his hand through the boy's hair.

She feels her stomach muscles tense, and the joy leaves her.

"I think not," she says coolly.

But the child is swapping bright smiles with his da: they clearly think the idea funny.

Well, my soul, it takes all sorts to make a world-

She shrugs lightly, and takes her hand from Simon's hold.

"The Sobranies?" she suggests to Emmersen. He is standing smirking at them.

"O yeah, right away… I got a couple of cartons of the black ones, OK?"

"Uh huh. Cigarillos?"

"Something new and special you may care to try… I'll just get 'em from the back."

He nods to Joe, smiles at Simon, and vanishes.

"Ahh," sighs Joe, positioning himself, back to the counter and resting on his elbows.

"Dunno how much you missed us, but we missed you a lot, truly," his dark eyes are serious. "And it was really because we thought you might like a rest from us that we didn't bother you."

"Considerate… I did wonder where you'd got to, briefly."

The boy is climbing his fingers up the whorls carved in the stick: his face is nearly clear of bruising. Only yellowing contusions round his eyes, and at the corners of his mouth. And he's moving easily- one way, she thinks, children have it all over adults. Fast clean healing.

She asks, "Did you find out who was responsible?"

Joe touches a finger to his lips, as Emmersen comes in. "Muri iho, e hoa."

"Have to learn to speak that, one of these days," Emmersen says. "Maybe I'm a bit old to learn though… how about these?"

"Never seen them before. Were they recommended or something?"

Emmersen opens a box.

"Try one," he offers. "The sales bloke reckoned they were strictly for connoisseurs, and I figured you were a connoisseur."

Joe giggles. "Knows how to sell, eh?"

"At connoisseur prices too, I'll bet." She sniffs the slim cigar and rolls it gently between her fingers. Tightly rolled leaf, not too dry. She lights it.

Everyone's looking at her, brown eyes, seagreen, pale-blue: all expectant, waiting for her decision. She keeps them waiting for three draws.

Then she says, "Weelll…" and passes it to Joe.

"O thanks…" He breathes out a fine plume of smoke. "Hmmm…" He hands it back.

Emmersen is twitching with ill-concealed suspense. He smiles anxiously, and she smiles blandly back.

"Haimona?"

She passes him down the cigarillo and the boy chuckles.

He leans against her, holding the smoke in front of him. He makes a performance of inhaling a mouthful, tasting it, and expelling the smoke in a thin jet.

Joe puts his hand over his mouth.

Emmersen's eyes are bulging, and he's gone a strange raspberry colour.

Kerewin asks the child, "You'd buy it, or you wouldn't?"

Emmersen chokes.

Simon hands it back to her. He scratches his head, holds his chin, darts a green glance at Emmersen, obviously wonders whether or no, and finally shakes his head.

Emmersen has gone redder still.

"O bad luck," says Kerewin. "Joe?"

I like it actually. Bouquet a bit tart, and it hasn't got the bold maturity of your Cuban '65, and and…" he's starting to break up. for goodness' sake, put the joker out of his misery, Kere."

Emmersen swallows. "I thought…" he begins, the flush fading From his face, leaving it normally sallow. He swallows again. "I thought," and there is a note of real misery in his voice.

Kerewin interrupts.

I was in two minds about this purchase. I thought if I could have got a majority consensus… anyway, he's too young to know

a decent smoke from your average dockleaf. I'll have what you've got. They are good."

Emmersen's sigh is loud with relief.

"Just for a moment there," shaking his head, "you had me worried…" he's smiling his nervous smile, "though I did think you were having me on, but… but-"

Kerewin smiles too, her lips lean and her eyes narrow.

"But you never can tell for sure," she leers. "On the other hand, the day I take Simon's advice as to what to smoke, is the day I enter my dotage. Hell, he smokes his father's cigarettes."

Joe says, "Hey! What d'you mean…?" and Simon giggles, and Emmersen, busily wrapping up the tobacco and Sobranies and cigarillos before she can change her mind, laughs uproariously.

Joe says with embarrassment they'd been looking for her, because uh he wondered if Himi could stay a couple of nights? He explains in a rush. Wherahiko Tainui's got a bad heart, he's been going over the hill for specialist treatment, now he's been told not to drive anymore, and Marama can't drive, Ben is busy, and Piri's tied up with his job, and the other son is outa town and,

"Berloody oath," Kerewin bangs the stick down hard on the road, "of course Simon can stay. I wondered where he had got the bad habit of begging from. I can hear, loud and clear."

Joe grins shyly. "Well you know, I don't want you to think I'm just using you, as a babysitter. Just visiting when convenient, even if it looks like that. Truly it isn't."

Kerewin says drily that if she had thought that, they'd've both got the message, weeks ago.