Witi Ihimaera - Uncle's Story

And what was this? Pots of kina swimming in cream were coming out of the kitchen. The guests began to hoe in.

‘I’m sure glad I’m not sleeping in the meeting house tonight,’ Sam said. ‘And don’t say I didn’t warn you. Tonight you’d better make sure the windows and doors are wide open —’

Everybody started to guffaw. Kina are an epicurean delight, but have one unfortunate side-effect. Before long, your bowels are ballooning with the foulest stench on earth.

‘In fact,’ Sam continued, ‘if any of you other guys want to seduce Emma, send your kina over to George as well! If he eats enough she’s bound to kick him out of bed and you can sneak in just like Kahungunu, our revered ancestor, when he wanted to sleep with the beautiful chieftainess Rongomai wahine.’

‘But she was beautiful,’ somebody yelled out. ‘And Kahungunu was biiiigg!’

Everybody laughed again. Sam took his seat. He leaned over to George. ‘So how are you feeling?’

‘I think I need some oysters,’ George answered. Emma’s fingers were already wandering south. ‘Lots and lots of oysters.’

The feasting and drinking, hard talking and laughing continued for a long time. Occasionally Sam searched out Patty, and he frowned as he saw her drinking with Kara and Anita. She was too young to be drinking beer. He also sought out Cliff. It was hard to avoid him in that sea of beautiful brown faces.

Kia ora, Illinois boy. How’re you doing with Auntie Annie?

She’s a great gal. I’m having the time of my life. And Sam —

Yes?

You’re the best looking guy here, you know that?

The feast was abating when Arapeta, with a cough, rose from his chair. Immediately people stopped eating and talking, and Sam wondered again at the strength of his father’s personal mana. Unlike Joshua at the battle of Jericho, Dad wouldn’t need rams’ horns to bring those walls down. All he’d need to do was to cough.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Arapeta began, ‘and distinguished guests —’ He nodded to General Collinson. ‘When a man takes a woman to be his wife he is re-enacting a tradition that goes back to the very first woman, Hine ahu one, she who was made from red earth. Through his woman, a man achieves his immortality. He has a son —’ A son. Not a daughter. ‘And in this manner he conquers the formidable Goddess of Death herself. This is the achievement of George tonight.’

Around the dining hall came murmurs of approval.

‘Ka tika,’ some of the men said. ‘Yes, that is right.’

‘I made a promise to Turei’s mother,’ Arapeta said. ‘I told her that her son, my son and George would all come back from Vietnam. I said that my son would ensure this.’

He turned to Lilly. ‘Lilly, if I could, I would trade my son for your son, and it would be my son who would have gone to Death and your son who was alive today.’

Sam knew his father’s words were rhetorical, ritual. But God, it hurt to hear them hurled at him.

Some in the audience began to weep. Others grew silent. None of it had anything to do with Sam. They were simply remembering Turei as he had been. The hardcase, always ready with a joke, the lovely boy who had once lived among them. Alone among them, only Cliff saw the impact on Sam and he began to sign across the room.

Sam, can you hear me?

‘However, we cannot change the past,’ Arapeta went on. ‘We must continue with living, and tonight we can begin again with this marriage of Turei’s sister, Emma, to Turei’s best friend, George.’

The dining room burst with thunderous applause. Arapeta took up a glass and called for a waiter to fill it. Everyone was standing and raising their glasses.

Sam, I’m here for you, Sam.

‘George,’ Arapeta said, ‘I drink a toast to you and I congratulate you. You have brought Turei back to us.’

Arapeta lifted his glass and quaffed the wine in a single gulp. He put the glass down and, with great deliberation, saluted George. All eyes were turned to the bridegroom — and, at that moment Sam looked across at Cliff. He was gasping with sorrow.

Just keep your eyes on me, Sam. The rest of the world doesn’t matter. I’m here for you, Sam.

Sam tried to smile. Slowly he replied.

You’ll rescue me and take me away from here?

With guns blazing. Against all comers.

Throughout the dining hall old men were standing and saluting. They were jostling against Cliff and making it difficult for him to keep his line of sight on Sam. Desperately, Cliff moved to one side. Saw Sam looking for him.

‘Ka mate, ka mate!’ Arapeta roared. ‘It is death, it is death!’

Sam, look at me, Sam.

All around, old men were joining in the haka. Eyes bulging. Spittle flying. Crouched into a semi-fighting stance. Slapping at their haunches.

Across that sea of faces two stars lifted.

I’ve never left anybody behind, Sam. Never.

By early evening the feast was over and the wedding guests were making their way in the dark down to the War Memorial Hall. The celebration dance was in full disco swing. Up on the marae, however, the official wedding party and local elders had been detained farewelling General Collinson and his aides.

‘Until we meet next time,’ Arapeta said.

The dislike was palpable between him and General Collinson. All those old wounds, from a time long ago when Pakeha commanded and Maori took the orders, had never healed, never closed.

‘Yes, until next time,’ General Collinson replied.

The universe shattered to pieces as his helicopter lifted off, circled the marae and, red lights winking, headed north across Tolaga Bay township for Wellington. For a moment there was silence, as if the party was waiting for Arapeta to give the movement order.

‘Now that he’s gone,’ Arapeta said, ‘let’s go down to the hall and really let our hair down.’

He turned to Sam. Saw the haunted look in his son’s face. Remembered what he had said in his speech.

‘You know why I had to say what I did in the dining hall, son.’

‘I know, Dad.’

‘I had to appease everyone and to finally make it right. For Lilly. For George. For all those who loved Turei. So that everyone could put the past behind them and get on with life.’

‘I know.’

But all the way to the hall, Sam felt himself dying inside. He remembered the golden palomino and how Dad had suddenly lifted his rifle and shot it. The palomino was still alive when Sam ran to it. He looked into the golden iris and saw himself reflected there — and then the golden light began to go out.

The wedding party arrived at the doorway to the hall. Inside, the guests had cleared a space in front of the band to welcome them:

‘Karangatia ra! Karangatia ra! Powhiritia ra!

Nga iwi o te motu, kei runga te marae,

Haere mai —’

The music was so joyous, but all Sam wanted to do was to find Cliff. It was peace time, but he felt he was still living in a war zone. He searched the hall for Cliff but it was so crowded and filled with cigarette smoke. Meantime, the women were swinging their hips, the men were stamping their feet with the pleasure of living. Eyes were wide and bright, and emotions were open as the group poured out their aroha to the bride and groom.

‘You have called us and we have come,

all the people of Aotearoa to this marae,

where we celebrate with you —’

Somebody bumped into Sam. It was Patty with Anita, Kara and a gaggle of other girls. Patty giggled and swooned over him:

‘Hullo, Sam —’

Sam smelled the beer on her breath.

‘What’s got into you, Patty? No more drinking, you hear?’