Witi Ihimaera - Sky Dancer

Then there was a cry of joy.

“She’s found it,” Arnie said.

But when Birdy came to the kitchen she had other news. “I’ve been a forgetful hen! I haven’t got the Apocrypha.”

“You haven’t?” Skylark asked.

“No. I lent it to Joe.”

“Who’s Joe?”

“Don’t you know?” Birdy asked. “Joe lives near Tauranga.”

Halfway back down the island. A day’s travel away. Oh no, Skylark thought.

Birdy stared deep into Skylark’s eyes. “Don’t worry, dear, I can remember the part that involves me.” She closed her eyes and began to recite from memory:

“ And the Lord Tane said, ‘Once the Sky has opened, then shalt the seabirds of that time to come be able to make pilgrimage back to the time that is and, in that time conjoined, the battle of the birds shalt be fought again.’ But hearing this, Te Arikinui Kotuku, on behalf of the Runanga a Manu, begged the Lord Tane, ‘Forgive us, oh Lord, our arrogance. Just as you have given unto the seabirds a second chance, give the same opportunity unto us also.’

“And the Lord Tane found forgiveness in his heart and said unto her: ‘What is done cannot be undone. The promise made to the seabirds is a promise I cannot take back. However, because of my love for you, my children of the Great Forest which bears my name, I will indeed give you what you wish. Hear me: I will send a deliverer, a chick of open heart and innocence, and in her wings she will hold your fate. You should look for her to appear at the same time as the sky opens unto the seabirds. She will be the one. And I will send her out unto the wilderness to be tested and, should she show courage and strength, then she will arrive out of the wilderness bearing claw, wing feather and —’”

Birdy opened her eyes and winked. She saw the necklet that Hoki had given Skylark. “I see you’ve got the claw. That’s a good start. You’ve come at just the right time to get the feather.”

Birdy was off, stepping quickly out of the house. With a laugh, Skylark and Arnie hastened after her. The sun had come up and the sky was a bright blue bowl. Birdy was already climbing the first sand dune.

“Come along! Come along! Don’t lag behind!”

The view from the sand dune took Skylark’s breath away. For as far as she could see, more dunes. The sun turned them all into dazzling walls of glass.

Birdy reached the edge of an area where strands of blue sea had made a system of intricate sand bars. “Come along, slow coaches!” she yelled. “Can’t keep up with an old cluck like me?”

Arnie held out his hand to Skylark — and she took it. Birdy was not far ahead of them now, wading across an estuarine stream.

That’s when Skylark saw the seabirds. Thousands and thousands of them dotted upon every patch of sand. Waiting.

Birdy stepped into their midst and some of them took wing. Skylark pushed Arnie’s hand away. Heart pounding, she began to run.

“No, Birdy, no.” The seabirds were hovering across the old woman. She was unaware of the danger, letting them come to rest on her outstretched arms. But as Skylark splashed across the estuary, Birdy called to her.

“Meet the Scolopacidae —”

What was this? The seabirds weren’t attacking Birdy at all. They were still sitting calmly on the sand bars or resting on her arm where she could stroke them.

“I thought they would kill you,” Skylark said, awed.

“These?” Birdy smiled. “Oh no, not these, not my godwits.”

“Godwits?” Arnie asked. “But aren’t they seabirds too?”

“Yes, yes,” Birdy nodded. Then: “Oh, I understand.” Her voice trilled with amusement. “In the time before Man, the Lord Tane gave the godwits special dispensation to be shorebirds rather than seabirds. They are Arctic waders who breed in the Northern Hemisphere but migrate south to Aotearoa to get away from the Arctic winter. It was Chief Kuaka, whose Maori name I carry, who obtained the permission. He said, ‘Because my species lives in Aotearoa for six months will you grant me the lease of special places where we might find safety and shelter?’ The Lord Tane said, ‘Yes,’ and leased them Rangaunu Harbour at the neck of Aupouri Peninsula and here, at Parengarenga Harbour.”

Skylark felt her body flood with relief. She watched as Birdy moved among the godwits, mottled grey and brown, patting and stroking their heads as she passed each one. Some were feeding at the edge of the tide, keeping up a continuous musical chatter. Many were in pairs, and Birdy looked at Skylark teasingly.

“I’m glad you’ve got a boyfriend too,” Birdy said.

Oo er. Arnie blushed and turned away.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Skylark said. “Apart from that he’s basically normal.”

“Well, whoever he is,” Birdy said, “both of you have arrived on a very special day. Around 10,000 godwits come to Aotearoa every year. One-tenth of them actually land here at Parengarenga. But leaving will be the kindest thing to happen to my darlings. It’s been a mean summer. The godwits are legally protected, but Parengarenga has become a killing field. People come to net and shoot the birds for food. A one-kilogram godwit primed to fly a long distance is the kind of bird most sought for the pot. There’s a black market in them; some birds are sold as far south as Auckland. Many of those who escape the poachers are inflicted with internal injuries and maimed wings and legs. Some are likely to ditch into the ocean on their way back to Siberia and Alaska, or not go at all. But they must get back to breed. They’ve had ideal conditions in the past couple of weeks. I’ve been trying to protect them so they can gain strength to begin their marathon journey. South-east winds will carry them up on the first leg into the western Pacific.

“I love my darlings. They are like a huge tribe. They travel together, they come together, they leave together. There is no other tribe quite like them. They have been massing to leave for days. And —” There was an excitement in the air. “Here comes the south-east wind.”

As if on some invisible command, the godwits lifted into the air. For a moment the whole world was filled with a mighty fluttering and whirring, and Skylark put her hands to her ears to minimise the sound. Powerful wings beat the air into a whirlwind.

Birdy began to sing a song of farewell. “Haere atu koutou nga kuaka, haere atu ki runga i te reo aroha —”

She almost disappeared in the snowstorm of feathers. “Farewell, godwits, go to your other home on the other side of the world. In the summer, return to me where I await your arrival again.”

The godwits flew in a compact flock, twisting and turning in unison, pouring out of the harbour. Beneath them, the old woman fell to the sand, weeping.

“Ah well,” Birdy said, “I’ve done my job for another year.” She picked up a feather left by one of the departing birds. “Oh yes, and you had better take this.”

She put the feather in Skylark’s hands. The godwits were a stain in the sky, disappearing over the horizon. “The feather comes from a strong bird, renowned for covering huge distances. It will hold you up even when you’re so tired you can’t go any further.”

Arnie watched Birdy give Skylark the feather. The whole scene of the godwits’ departure had affected him. Coming as he did from a broken family, he was particularly taken by Birdy’s remark that they were a huge tribe. They belonged. They paired. They had someone. He saw another feather on the ground, inspected it, and decided that if Skylark could have one he could too. He put it in his pocket.

“Now you’d better get on the road,” Birdy said. “When you get to Joe’s town, just ask at the hotel. Everybody knows Joe.”