Witi Ihimaera - Bulibasha

I’ve mentioned before the two photographs of Grandmother Ramona and Grandfather when they were young. Although badly hand-tinted (Grandfather had been given green eyes and curly brown hair) the coloration cannot disguise my grandmother’s innocent beauty or my grandfather’s handsome pride. As Aunt Ruth was talking I imagined a scene straight out of a silent movie.

Ramona is on the verandah of an old house. Her paramour, Tamihana, stands in the stirrups of his white horse and, tears streaming from his green eyes, cups her chin in his hands and kisses her.

Tamihana E Ramona, kaua koe e haere ki to marena.

(Subtitles: Ramona, I beg of you, do not do this.)

Ramona Aue, e Bulibasha, tenei taku whakamutunga.

(Subtitles: Alas, my love, this is my destiny.)

Tamihana Engari, kahore koe e aroha ana ki a ia.

(Subtitles: But you do not love him.)

Ramona Ae engari, ko hoatu te honore ki toku papa.

(Subtitles: That is true, but I do this for the honour of my father and because it is his wish. And Rupeni has only a week before he must journey to the war.)

Tamihana (closeup, in desperation) Ka pehea atu ki au?

(Subtitles: What about me?)

Ramona (with proud resolution) Ahakoa taku aroha ki a koe, ake, ake, kaore he aroha mo maua. Haere atu.

(Subtitles: Although I will love you for ever and for all eternity our love can never be. Go.)

Tamihana (with an agonising cry) Ramon-aaaaaa –

(Subtitles: Ramon-aaaaaa —)

‘Your grandmother and grandfather had one last sweet kiss,’ Aunt Ruth said. Hupe was dribbling from her nose — she was such a romantic. ‘Then your grandmother pulled the veil over her face. She was never more lovely. “Although another man may own my body,” Ramona said to our father, “you will always possess my heart.” A single tear trickled like a falling star down her left cheek.’

Meanwhile, Rupeni had arrived at the church. He was an ugly, squat young man with a big bulbous nose, huge fleshy lips and legs so short he looked like he was walking on his knees. He was at least three inches shorter than Grandmother. Whoever heard of a hero who was shorter than the heroine?

‘Did you know there was a song named after your grandmother?’ Aunt Ruth asked. ‘Well, a small trio outside the church — a violinist, pianist and bass player — started to play that song:

“Ramona, I hear the mission bells above, Ramona —”

‘The guests were mainly Rupeni’s family and all those he had managed to fool. Huh! He was as heroic as my bum! Everybody knows he didn’t lob that grenade at the Turks, it was somebody else. Just as he was going through the door with his groomsmen he heard the karanga. He turned and saw his bride coming —’

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.