Witi Ihimaera - Pounamu Pounamu

In a much better mood now, he walks down the incline, pants up the second hump and spies Queenie and Red. They are sitting under the willow trees, right up in the highest part of the paddock. Furious again, Hema steams down the hump and stands at the bottom. He points his finger at the ground, looks up at the cows and disappears in fire and brimstone.

‘You fellas just come down here right this minute! Queenie?! Red?! You hear me up there? If you think I’m coming all the way up there, you better think again. Now hurry up, I haven’t got all day! Didn’t you hear me you effing-blasted-bloody soand-so cows?! Come down here this minute! Queenie! Red!’

‘Mooooooo,’ Queenie says.

Red just sniffs, licks at her nostrils and continues chewing her cud. Whoever is that little boy down there hopping around?

‘Pae kare, you fellas!’ Hema yells. ‘See this stick? Well I’m coming up there and I’m going to lay into both of you. Just you wait. Just you wait!’

Swearing to himself, Hema pulls at the grass and climbs up one side of the steep hill. Everybody is picking on him today. Everything is against him. It just isn’t fair! And those cows, they’ll soon see who’s the boss! He’ll slap their haunches and tie their tails in knots and they’ll be sorry. He finally gets to the top, opens his mouth to scream at the cows …

But they are gone. He looks around and is just in time to see two brown behinds swaying saucily over the first hump.

Misery. Oh gosh, all this way for nothing. Why was he ever born?

Utterly dejected now, Hema wanders back after the cows. Down the hill, up the hump and down the hump, up the rise and down the rise, and along the line of pines to the cow bail where Queenie and Red are waiting. He stares at them for a moment with a hurt expression in his eyes. And they stare back with their wide innocent eyes.

‘You fellas are mean to me,’ Hema tells them.

‘We’re not going to be yelled and screamed at,’ the cows seem to say.

‘I didn’t mean all those things,’ Hema sniffs. ‘I wouldn’t hurt you fellas. Tomorrow, you be good and be here waiting for me, eh?’

The cows lower their heads. Hema pats Queenie first, and she sways into the cow bail, while Red wanders off to chew the time away before it is her turn. In the bail, Hema sits on the stool, greases Queenie’s udder, puts the bucket between his knees, snuggles his head into Queenie’s belly, and begins to pull gently on her teats. The back two first. Then the front two afterward. The milk spurts rapidly into the bucket, warm and frothy. And as Hema milks the cow, he talks to her. His eyes glaze over, his dejection falls away and he sighs:

‘Oh, Queenie! I’m a man now.’

‘Hey boys! I’ve got a juicy book here!’

‘Where!’

It is lunchtime at school and Hema has joined some of his mates under a tree where they are shaded from the sun. Fats Matenga has wobbled over, bearing a paperback in his quivering hands.

‘Giz a look, Fats.’

‘Hold your horses, boys! Hey, lay off, Jackie, it’s my book.’

‘Cut the noise, Fats! One of the teachers might hear you. Jeez you make a noise and a half. Where are the good bits!’

‘Good one on page … ah, here we are! Gather around me, boys, and listen to this!’

… James Able stopped at the door. He put his hand on the doorknob and suddenly, he froze. Someone had been here. He could tell, because his Secret Agent eyes had discerned faint fingerprints on the polished brass. As quick as a flash he dropped on his knees and withdrew his Smith and Wesson from his shoulder holster. He listened, his well-oiled body keen for action. Somebody was in the room! Who could it be? Maybe it was the Spider, mastermind of the Alpha Operation which he’d come to investigate. His body tensed. His handsome face became cruel and savage. He patted at his hair, wrenched the door open and threw himself in.

‘Oh James!’ a voice cried.

It was beautiful blonde Natasha, standing next to the big double bed. James Able ran his eyes over her long, sleek body. She was wearing a see-through negligee, and what he saw, he liked. Underneath, she was naked …

‘Jeez!’

‘Don’t stop, Fats! Hurry up!’

‘Okay, okay!’

… James Able walked purposefully over to the girl, cowering and panting to herself. He gripped her by the shoulders and she screamed.

‘What are you doing here, Natasha?’ he asked dangerously.

‘You’re hurting me, James!’ she answered, biting her beautiful and luscious lips.

‘Tell me!’ James Able insisted.

Natasha leant against him and he could feel her warm ripe body against his. She was wearing ‘Dangerous Desire’ perfume.

‘The Spider sent me here to kill you,’ Natasha sobbed. ‘I’m a Russian spy.’

James Able recoiled with horror. ‘Not you, Natasha! I trusted you!’

‘Yes, James!’ Natasha wept. ‘But I couldn’t do it. You see, I love you. Oh, James, James, James, James …’ she whispered over and over again.

‘You know what this means?’ James Able whispered.

‘Yes, James,’ Natasha nodded. ‘You must kill me.’ And she ripped off her negligee. ‘Kill me quick!’

She stood there, naked.

The sight of her blinding beauty made James Able sick …

‘Hang on, boys. I have to turn the page.’

… of his mission.

‘I can’t do it, Natasha,’ he said. He stepped up to her, looked down into her violet eyes, and kissed her brutally on the mouth. She went limp against him.

‘Oh, James, James, James, James’, she whispered over and over again. ‘You’re hurting me, James! It’s so big! I can feel it protruding.’

James Able threw away his Smith and Wesson.

‘That’s better,’ Natasha the Russian spy sighed. She pressed his head against her breasts and moaned as he kissed them. Then James Able picked her up in his muscled arms and carried her over to the big double bed. He was raging with desire. Natasha reached up and began unbuttoning his tailor-made shirt. He shuddered as her cold hands caressed his manly chest. Her fingers came lower and lower and began unbuttoning his trousers …

‘Jeez.’

‘Don’t stop, Fats!’

… and he felt her well-manicured fingers caressing his thighs.

‘Oh, James,’ Natasha whispered. ‘Why do you need a gun?’

‘Quick, turn the page!’ … The next day, James Able awoke and Natasha was gone. He got up, showered, put his shoulder holster on and …

‘Hang on, Fats. What happened in between?’

‘Yeah! What happened?’

‘That’s all, boys.’

‘That’s all? You mean there’s no more? Scrag him!’

‘Hold on, boys! Hold on! Jeez, can’t you fellas use a bit of imagination!’

‘Aah, let him go, fellas,’ Jackie Smith says. He gives Fats a shove to send him on his way. ‘These Intermediate kids!’ Jackie laughs.

‘Yeah.’

The group laugh with one another. Then Jackie, the big man of the school, signs for attention.

‘Listen boys. Here’s a story for you, and this is for real. Me and Sam here were down at the river last weekend.’

‘Yeah, that’s right! We were too, and we saw …’

‘Who’s telling this story, Sam? You or me!’

‘Sorry, Jackie.’

And the story begins, with the boys sitting rapt, beneath the willow trees at school.

At thirteen, Hema Tipene knows all there is to know about sex. He has been well grounded in the theory of the matter and is looking forward to the time when he can put his fantastic knowledge into practice. His thoughts are healthy even if they are slightly colourful, and are certainly not dirty. Sex is so much a part of adult life, and now that he is a man, it seems only natural to know all there is on the subject. It must be important, mustn’t it? Why else would girls and boys go through puberty! There must be some purpose to that great rupture in a boy’s life. What use is it, if you don’t take advantage of the possibilities it grants you. With such a gift, you could rule the world.