Witi Ihimaera - Sky Dancer

“I’ll get Zac if it’s the last thing I do,” she said.

Arnie saw that Skylark had again gone beyond his reach. She was so volatile, so reactive. In one second she had switched back on autopilot.

“This is what happens when you trust people,” she said. “They trash your lives. Mum and I have always looked after ourselves. We don’t need anybody else.”

Then Skylark looked straight through him. Her voice was chill. “Hoki had no business forcing you to come with me. What I have to do has absolutely nothing to do with you. You’re not involved. This is my business and I’m doing it for my mother. So, Arnie, thank you for bringing me this far, but I’m hiring a car for the rest of the trip. From here I go on alone. You go back to Tuapa where you’re needed.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Arnie answered.

“You’ve got no say in the matter,” Skylark screamed. She had learned that sometimes with stubborn people, adding volume to attitude often did the trick. Not today.

“Oh yes I have,” Arnie said. He had to think quick … Ah well, desperate people had to take desperate measures.

Before Skylark could stop him, he walked over to her backpack and took out her wallet. In it was her driver’s licence and credit cards.

“You won’t get far without these,” Arnie said.

Skylark went through the roof. That was foul play. Out of court.

“How dare you do that! Give them back. They’re mine, not yours!”

“No, Skylark. We’re sticking together and that’s that.” Arnie said, keeping his ground.

“You juvenile delinquent!” Skylark yelled. “I suppose you learned that little trick when you were living on the streets, right? Well, I can always get replacements.”

“And waste a day when you’re in such a hurry? I don’t think so.” Arnie was dancing out of her reach. Exhausting her. Skylark gave a loud wail and a last lunge and fell to the floor, hoping that Arnie would get close enough for her to grab.

“You’re not the only one who can be obstinate,” Arnie said. “Auntie Hoki didn’t force me. I wanted to come — and whether you like it or not, I’m riding shotgun to the end of the trail. So you have two options. You either come with me — or you come with me. What’s it to be?”

It was touch and go. Skylark was simmering; it was just as well she wasn’t a volcano. If she called the cops in, that would be the end of Arnie. But she didn’t. Phew. Instead, lips compressed, she stalked out of the apartment. Arnie couldn’t help but put a jaunty step or two into his walk.

“You think you’ve got one over me, don’t you,” Skylark said. “Well, I’m warning you, Arnie, you know zip. So don’t follow too close in my footsteps. I could step in something.”

Arnie drove all the way from Auckland. Once on the northern highway, the heavy traffic thinned out. By the time they passed Whangarei, where they filled the ute with petrol, they seemed to be the only people on the road.

“Do you want me to drive from here?” Skylark offered. She was still angry, but she could tell Arnie was getting tired. He might get careless and have an accident, and that wouldn’t do either of them any good.

“I’m okay, thanks,” Arnie said. “If I let you have the wheel, who knows, you might push me out of the ute and take off without me.” He wasn’t joking either.

“Why, Arnie.” Skylark fluttered her eyelashes. “The thought never even crossed my mind.”

“Yeah, and butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth,” Arnie answered.

The consequence was that Skylark stayed awake, fearing Arnie might go to sleep at the wheel. Her alertness saved them when a stray cow came looming out of the darkness. “Watch out!” she cried. Arnie wrenched the wheel to the left, touched the accelerator and zoomed out of the way. The cow’s huge eyes filled the windows and then slid to the left.

“I suppose you’ll still insist on the imposition of your male testosterone mentality in the matter of safe driving?” Skylark asked. She was seething. As for Arnie, he decided it best not to answer. Things were bad enough already. For the rest of the trip, they hardly spoke. They were like two angry children in a spaceship shooting its way through a galaxy full of stars.

Just before dawn, Skylark and Arnie reached the narrow road that threaded its way up the northernmost extremity of Aotearoa. Not long after that they drove into Te Hapua, home of the last pub, the last petrol pump and the last store in the north. Beyond was Parengarenga Harbour, the sand dunes like spellbinding mountains sloping into the sea. They still weren’t speaking to each other when Arnie saw a couple of locals riding horses down the main road and asked directions. “Could you tell us how to get to Birdy’s place?”

“Sure. Turn left at the next bend, go two ks on, and follow the road right down to the sea. When you can’t go any further, and you see a house, that’s Birdy’s.”

Arnie rapped on the door. There was a shuffling sound from inside. When the door opened, an old woman was standing there, looking at them. She was thin, wiry, with long grey hair tumbling down to her waist.

“You two look like something the cat’s dragged in.” Her eyes were bright and inquisitive, and she had a way of rocking her head back and forth as if she was looking for something.

Yes, Skylark thought, you’re Birdy all right.

“Of course I am,” Birdy answered, as if she had read Skylark’s mind. “And who are you?”

“My name’s Skylark,” Skylark said.

“Such a pretty bird. Introduced to Aotearoa in the 1860s, streaked brown and dark brown, eats insects, nests on the ground and has a beautiful song, yes, yes.” She turned to Arnie. “And you?”

“My name’s Arnie.”

“Arnie? Arnie? Are you a Pelecaniformes? Or an Apterygiformes! No, I don’t know the bird you’re named after. Come in, come in. You haven’t come to rob me, have you? There’s nothing left in the house anyhow.” Birdy ushered Skylark and Arnie in. “So why have you come to see me? Would you like some breakfast? How can I help you?”

“Hoki and Bella sent me,” Skylark said.

Birdy gasped. She rushed to a cabinet, opened it, rummaged and found some spectacles, and peered closely at Skylark. “You’re the chick! So you have appeared! I’m so happy, so happy.” With a sigh, Birdy hugged Skylark. “But why are you up here at Parengarenga?”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” Skylark said.

“Don’t you? Don’t you? But why don’t you know!”

“The Book of Birds only has some of the information. I’m here because you have the Apocrypha.”

“Do I?” Birdy cocked her head. “Do I? Of course you do, you silly old hen!” she chastised herself. “But first you two chicks will want to wash up! Have you been travelling all day and all night? Of course you have! There’s the bathroom. Here are the towels. Women first. And afterwards, we’ll have a breakfast of nice steamed mussels, cockles and seaweed tea! Doesn’t that sound scrumptious?”

“Scrumptious,” Skylark said, trying to sound enthusiastic.

A shower and change of clothes was just the thing to perk Skylark up. Hair wet, complexion shiny, she joined Birdy in the kitchen while Arnie took his turn to wash. By the time he came back, breakfast was ready.

“Hoe in! Eat the lot! The sea is bountiful!” Skylark didn’t think she’d be too keen on the kai Birdy dished up, but man oh man, was it sweet!

“Eat! Eat!” Birdy continued. She dashed backwards and forwards with bread, butter and more tea. “And while you’re hoeing in, I’ll go and get the Apocrypha.” She disappeared into the sitting room. Skylark heard her opening and closing drawers. “Where did you put it, you silly biddy! Not here? Maybe you left it in your bedroom or in the back shed? Maybe it’s been stolen! Well, if somebody stole it they better watch out. There’s a big hoodoo on the Apocrypha —”