Witi Ihimaera - Uncle's Story

‘Daddy, please don’t hurt Sam.’

‘Go inside, Patty. Now.’

Patty began to scream and scream, as if wanting to warn Sam.

‘What’s that?’ Cliff asked. Something was wailing in the wind. Then, nearer at hand, the wild horses were panicking in their enclosure.

Sam switched on the outside lights. The black mustang, seeking a way out, had come with the wild horses to the gate. It reared up, battering its hooves against the gate. All of a sudden it was down, bawling in pain, its right foreleg caught between two bars.

‘You wait here,’ Sam said to Cliff.

In an instant, he was running past the stables towards the fallen horse. As he approached, the animal began to struggle, its eyes wide with fear, its mouth filled with foam.

‘Easy, boy, easy.’

Back at the barn, Cliff saw someone approaching.

Arapeta.

And Auntie Pat was gripping the arms of the chair so hard that her knuckles showed white. She was staring into her memories, trying to break the constraints holding her to the present and to go, willingly, into the past.

‘Dad had ordered me to stay in the house but I couldn’t. I waited until Mum and Monty were inside and then I ran. I ran as fast as I could. All I could think of was my brother and Cliff, and I was afraid of what Dad would do to them. I loved my brother. When he’d been away in Vietnam I wrote to him every day. I kept calling his name, “Sam, Sam, Sam,” hoping he would hear me and get away. I came to the barn and I saw Dad. I saw Cliff. But Sam wasn’t there. I crouched down in the dark and looked between two bars of the fence, and I heard Dad talking to Cliff Harper —’

Across the yard, Patty saw Arapeta closing in on Cliff. Arapeta feinted to the left. He feinted to the right. At each feint Arapeta was watching, trying to search out any weakness in Cliff’s defence. It came to him again that this boy was fearless, and he nodded in acknowledgement. He laughed in a humourless fashion.

‘Mr Harper, when Germany finally surrendered, I was with Colonel Awatere’s staff. I was there at the Allied action which took Ravenscrag, Hitler’s secret mountain command post. I was there at the kill.’

Two men looking at each other. One the father. The other the lover.

‘Colonel Awatere was there with other generals of the Allied forces. You know what he did? He unbuttoned his fly and began to urinate on the carpet. Others tried to physically restrain him and some of the generals cried out, “You can’t do that.” Colonel Awatere answered, “Watch me.” When he was finished he said, “When a Maori goes into battle all he has in mind as the final outcome is that he will be able to eat his enemy’s head. If he is unable to be found, then what I have done is an alternative expression of the sweetness we feel, the contempt we feel for the enemy we have conquered.”’

The full force of Arapeta’s words, veiled though they were, hit Cliff in the solar plexus. He stood his ground.

‘You’re not afraid?’ Arapeta asked. ‘You should be. You have been my guest, Sir, and you have betrayed the hospitality of my house. Before this night is done I will eat your head.’

Auntie Pat put an arm up to her mouth. She was oscillating between past and present, the terror of her memories shaking her apart. Her eyes were wide, blinking rapidly, as she tried to recapture that night for me in the way she wished to remember it.

‘They began to fight, Michael. And although Cliff was the younger, I don’t think he realised how strong Dad was. When Dad came out on the balls of his feet and made his first jab, his second with his left fist, and then followed through with his right fist, only then did Cliff realise Dad’s boxing skills. He put up his left elbow, blocking the punch. Before Dad could get under his guard, he had moved out of range. They were circling each other, taunting each other —’

Cliff moved away from Arapeta, averting his face, moving lightly and balancing on his toes. His arms were up and he was moving constantly, his eyes on Arapeta. He saw Arapeta’s nostrils flare, signalling a second sequence of jabs. He blocked them all, and with a quick flurry of his own — one, two, three —caught Arapeta on the chin. Rocked off his heels, Arapeta fell back.

‘Your threats don’t bother me,’ Cliff said. ‘I don’t care if you’re Sam’s father, you’re only a man as far as I’m concerned.’

Cliff saw that he had drawn first blood and Arapeta, surprised, tasted blood on his lips. He closed quickly again with Cliff, weaving fast, feinting, jabbing, trying to get past Cliff’s defences. Cliff laughed at him.

‘Not only are you just a man,’ Cliff taunted. ‘You’re an old man. You’re so up yourself you can’t really see me. All you think you see is weakness because I am a man who is in love with your son. But you’ve lost the advantage. I was trained by bigger men than you’ll ever be. You think becoming a helicopter pilot is something that just happens? I earned it, Arapeta, and my training, boxing included, has put me beyond your understanding. You can’t cut it with me, Arapeta. You’ve been boss for so long, you think you’re invincible. Well you’re not, you son of a fucken bitch. You’re a tyrant, and a bully. You’ll eat my head? Your time’s over, old man.’

With that, Cliff moved the fight from the defensive to the offensive. Leading with his left he established a rhythm. One and two and punch. One and two and guard . He saw an opening, took Arapeta off guard and let fly with a straight left. The blow caught Arapeta on his right cheekbone and cracked against his nose.

Arapeta staggered back. Shock showed in his eyes. All his life he had been the king, he had been the man, and he had laid claim to the title by virtue of his physical prowess.

Cliff felt a moment of regret. But this had to be done. Arapeta, the patriarch, had to be knocked off his perch. He had to be shown up for what he was. It was the only way to free Sam. Then all the mind games Arapeta had played with Sam would be over.

Cliff closed again on the old man, ready this time to knock him senseless and blow all he represented to kingdom come.

At that moment, with a quick wrench of the fence bars, Sam set the black mustang free. It leapt to its feet and crashed through the gate. The herd followed, running past Sam and towards Arapeta and Cliff. Before Arapeta could get away the mustang was upon him, up on its hind legs, and he had to twist aside to escape its hooves. The mustang slammed past Arapeta, and he fell to the ground.

‘All I could think of,’ Auntie Pat said, ‘was that my father was lying on the ground. I ran across to him, screaming. Cliff was standing there and I can still feel now what I felt then. I hated him. I hated him so much. I hated him for coming and destroying our lives. I hated him for what he had done to Sam —’

With alarm, Sam saw Patty running out of the shadows towards his father. She bent down to Arapeta and then, fiercely, leapt to her feet and started to push Cliff Harper back. When Sam, on the run, reached them, Arapeta spoke one word:

‘Son —’

‘Sam, it’s over for you here,’ Cliff cut in. ‘You belong with me now.’

Blood was spilling out of Arapeta’s lips, and his face was bruised and swollen, and Patty was screaming:

‘Don’t listen to him, Sam. We love you, you can’t leave us.’

Patty was up and throwing her hands against Cliff.

Arapeta spoke again:

‘I am your father, Sam.’

Cliff watched Sam struggling, trying to choose between him and Arapeta. It seemed that a thousand years went past before Sam finally sighed and began to stroke his father’s head.

‘No, Sam —’

But all his life Sam had been obedient. All his life the one thing he had wanted was for his father to love him. No matter what his father was like, the template of his authority could not be broken. No matter what his people were like, he was, after all, Maori.