See You In September

Bali shivered when she saw the mist. ‘You can feel the ghosts on days like this,’ she said. ‘You can imagine that phantom waka. It’s eerie.’

A group was setting out on Matariki. Three of the flax weavers were delivering an order of exquisitely crafted kete and mats to a craft shop. Monika needed to stock up the pharmacy and Seoul the pantry. Five children, including Damascus, were booked in for check-ups with the dentist. He clung to Cairo’s hand.

‘The dentist doesn’t hurt,’ he said, as they walked down the jetty together. ‘No, it doesn’t. It doesn’t, does it, Mummy? They just look in your mouth and they say what lovely teeth and then you go home.’

‘The dentist will never have seen such beautiful pearly-whites as yours,’ she promised. ‘You’ll go aaaaah for her.’

Cairo heard footsteps and looked around to see Rome trotting after them. ‘Hi! Going to the dentist?’

‘Tag!’ The young man slapped her on the back. ‘No, I’ve got a foreign cheque to bank. Remember that Texan couple who came on a course a couple of years ago? They just sent us a thousand dollars, in return for our prayers. Damascus, d’you want to ride on my shoulders?’

‘Ask to come with us,’ Rome whispered to Cairo. ‘I’ll take you to see your mother.’ Then he leaped aboard, making Damascus laugh by pretending to be a pirate with a cutlass.

‘I’d like to come with you,’ she said to Monika. ‘Suva can take my class at the school. Damascus is a bit scared of the dentist, he’d like me to be there.’

Cairo made a sound of frustration. ‘I don’t see why not. My mother will have left Rotorua by now.’

‘Ooh.’ Monika winced, pressing her hands to her ears. ‘Do you know that you’re shouting at me? Such negativity!’

‘I know this has been horrible. But Justin’s word is the last word. You’ve valuable work to do in the school. Throw yourself into that.’ Monika shook her head, with a frown of warning. ‘Your little ones need you. We all need you.’

It was a threat. It was primped and powdered and dressed up as loving concern, but really it was a threat. And it hurt, because Cairo thought of Monika as a friend.

She held up both hands, admitting defeat. ‘Okay! Obviously, if you think there’s still a risk … Please will you look after Damascus, then?’

‘Ooh, yes! It will be my grandmotherly pleasure. And as a reward for being brave at the dentist, there will be ice-cream.’

Matariki was moving away. The water was dead calm, like a silk shroud. Soon the white boat was no more than a ghost in the mist.

Rome seemed to disappear into thin air. He didn’t turn up for Call that night, nor the following morning, nor at Meridian Call.

‘He’s gone hunting,’ said Suva, when Cairo asked if she knew where he was. ‘A few of the guys went out last night. They were going to stay in one of the huts.’

Cloud hung in sullen layers, pressing down on the hills. Cairo struggled to keep her mind on teaching, and the children seemed unsettled too. From time to time they heard the sound of shots from the hills.

‘Shall we go to Kereru Cove?’ suggested Cairo, when she’d had enough of trying to be a real teacher. ‘The hot-water beach, or the pools? Prague and Xian, zip along to the laundry and grab five swimming towels. We can share.’

It felt better to be galloping up the bush path, away from watching eyes. The children chose the beach and were soon playing in the water. Cairo hitched up her dress and waded in to her thighs, comforted by the warmth.

She was haunted by an image. Her father, in a hospital bed. He was looking towards the door.

He’s waiting for me, she thought. He’s waiting right now. Tears kept coming, no matter how much she brushed them away.

She looked around at the sound of running footsteps on the path. The next moment Rome had pelted onto the sand, carrying a rifle.

‘Cairo.’ He bent over his knees, breathing hard. ‘Thank God I’ve found you.’

‘Liam, Kyoto and Berlin.’ He nodded, wiping his mouth with one hand. ‘Yep. My guards—I’ve managed to lose them. They took me out hunting to stop me talking to you.’

He shrugged. ‘No point. They’ll know I’ve been here. The kids will tell them.’

‘Cairo.’ He was shaking his head, still trying to catch his breath. ‘This is Gethsemane. Everyone’s a spy.’

She waded back to the beach. The young man had aged in the past twenty-four hours. He looked unkempt.

‘I didn’t get a chance to see Diana yesterday,’ he said. ‘Otto never left me on my own, so I couldn’t go to the motel. I couldn’t even go into the library to charge my phone, so I can’t call her. I don’t know how much longer she’ll wait if she hears nothing.’

‘Shh!’ He spun around, scanning the trees. No footsteps. No rustle of leaves.

‘I hate this. I hate having to slink around. Look, I’ve got something for you.’ He’d pulled a small book out of his pocket. ‘It hasn’t expired,’ he said, holding it out. ‘I checked.’

She recoiled. She hadn’t seen her passport since Monika took it for safekeeping five years earlier.

‘Take it,’ he urged, forcing it into her hands. ‘You’ve got to leave today. Now.’

‘Because Diana’s waiting. And because they’re going to take you to the island straight after school.’

He laughed. ‘No, not like Bali! This isn’t an honour, it’s a disgrace. They’ll keep you there until they’re sure your mother’s left the country.’

Justin is perfect, she chanted to herself. Justin is divine. Justin is eternal life.

‘You need to move fast,’ urged Rome. ‘That’s why I’ve been chasing up and down, looking for you. Don’t worry about Justin, I’ll talk to him, I’ll make him understand. He loves you very much. He’ll forgive you.’

‘Oh God, oh God, oh God.’ She stood irresolute, her hands pressed to her head. ‘What about my children?’

‘They’ve got Aden to look after them, and a hundred adoring relatives. You’ll be back in a couple of weeks.’

‘Mm … yes. And no.’ Once again, Rome scanned the silent bush. ‘The Companions speak to him through two-way radios.’

‘That’s how he always appears at the right moment. And he’s got satellite internet on the island. He uses it all the time, for all kinds of things.’

‘And spies. That’s how he knew you were pregnant when you first arrived. Remember how he seemed to know even before you did? It was a lucky guess, based on information received. Suva was told to watch for anything unusual, and she saw you throwing up every morning. She told Aden, who told Liam, who got on the radio and told Justin. And Justin is a master at looking for people’s weak points.’

Ice was forming in Cairo’s stomach. She needed Justin to be real. She needed him to be divine. The Last Day was coming! The world was on the verge of collapse! Without Justin’s divine power, there was no hope.

‘It’s a shock, isn’t it?’ Rome looked haggard. He rubbed his forehead with his thumb. ‘Turns everything upside down. Perth told me months ago. I didn’t want to believe it, but then I watched, and it’s true. It doesn’t mean we don’t love Justin. It does mean that he can’t read our minds.’

Her God had lied. His omniscience was a trick. She was sitting on the sand—didn’t remember when her legs gave way. There was no horizon, nothing steady.

Rome dropped to one knee beside her. ‘Cairo, listen. If you want to see your father, you have to leave now. Your mother’s waiting. You’ve got your passport. If you don’t go now, it’ll be too late.’

‘How?’ she whispered. ‘I’ll never get onto a boat without someone stopping me.’

He nodded. He had it all worked out. ‘You know the paddocks at the top, where the hay barn is? There’s a forestry track there that runs all the way to the public road. Aden knows it. We use it for bringing in stock and hay and stuff.’

‘I’ve driven along it! I’m the trusted son, remember?’ Rome began to draw a map in the sand. ‘The barn’s here … follow this fence line. You’ll see where the track comes out. Go along it … okay?’

‘It meets another track. Turn right … maybe ten kilometres … you’ll get to another gate. It’s probably locked. I’ll find an excuse to take Ikaroa, collect the van and drive around to meet you at that gate. If I’m not there, it means they’ve stopped me. Keep walking. You’ll eventually get to the public road.’

‘You’ll have to hitch a lift to Rotorua. I know you can hitch lifts—I’ve seen you do it! She’s at the Four Seasons Motel, near the Redwood Forest.’

Cairo knew the hay barn; she should be able to find the track. But then what? Her Gethsemane mind was aghast. Are you mad? People die out there!

‘You’d be putting him in an impossible position. He’d have to blow the whistle on you, or be disgraced. The less he knows, the better it will be for everyone. I’ll tell him after you’ve left.’

Damascus had spotted Rome. He skipped out of the water, holding up a small, wet hand to high-five. ‘Coming in?’ he asked hopefully.

‘You get going,’ he muttered, as he pulled his shirt over his head. ‘I’ll keep the kids here. Buy you some time.’

‘You’ll have to leave them. You’ll be lucky to get out yourself. Don’t risk anything unusual. Nothing at all.’ He was wading into the water. ‘Good luck.’

Cairo stood, still undecided, running the practicalities through her mind. Get to the top paddocks, negotiate the track, somehow get to Rotorua …

She opened the passport, flicking through its pages until she found the photo. Is that really me? The girl was about eighteen, long hair in a high ponytail, desperately not smiling because the authorities didn’t allow it. This document had nothing to do with Cairo. It belonged to someone she’d thought was long dead. Someone who, according to her passport, was called Cassandra Alexandra Howells.

She hadn’t seen her backpack since she’d arrived, but there was no packing to be done. She couldn’t take anything with her. She tied an extra jersey around her waist; it would be freezing by nightfall.

I’ve gone to see my father. I promise I’ll only be gone two weeks. I WILL come back.

Please forgive me. I thought it was easiest and best to leave quietly and come back soon. I love you.

Please forgive me!

Cairo

The bed was spread with the ultra-soft blanket the community had given them as a wedding present. She wanted to lie down and go to sleep. She wanted things to be normal and good.

Out on the porch, she stooped to lace her boots. Five years ago, she’d walked up those steps for the first time. She still remembered the magic of that day. Gethsemane had bewitched her from the moment she arrived, and she was still bewitched. As she looked across at the island, a skein of smoke spiralled from behind the trees and into a heavy sky. It smelled of happiness, of fish cooked on the beach, of sitting at the feet of her saviour. She stood transfixed. Her resolve was sliding away.

What do you think you’re doing? It would be lovely to go to the island! Imagine being with Justin all day. Just being in his presence makes you happy, doesn’t it? Yes! You’ll get the full blast of his love. Heaven on earth.

The Gethsemane mind changed into top gear. Where are you going? What are you doing? People die out there!

She had no choice but to cross the pasture that ran through the settlement. From the corner of her eye, she spotted Monika emerging onto the surgery porch.

Cairo turned around, walking backwards, grinning like an idiot. ‘Can’t stop,’ she said, gesturing vaguely towards the school. ‘Just nipped home to use the bathroom—better get back before there’s a riot!’

Without waiting for an answer she carried on across the grass, trying to look as though she hadn’t a care in the world. She expected to hear Monika shouting, demanding that she turn back—and then what? Justin would be called, and she’d have to face him and the Companions. They’d use power and love and threats and shame and guilt to bring her into line. They’d tell her children that their mummy wanted to leave them. Cairo knew she couldn’t stand up to that. Gethsemane wasn’t just about love; it was also about fear.

The hill path was close now. It led steeply away from behind the school building, marked on each side by rocks. Her instinct was to break into a run, but a glance over her shoulder proved that Monika was still watching. On a sudden wave of inspiration, she marched up to the school and into her own classroom, smartly shutting the door behind her.

From next door, she heard the murmur of Hana’s class of older children. She stood in the gloom, surrounded by paintings, projects and child-sized things. She knew every inch of her dominion: the little chairs grouped around square tables, the whiteboard, that floorboard that creaked. She knew the smell and feel of the books, every splash of paint on the art cabinet. She imagined her class here—tomorrow, in this very room—being told that their teacher had left Gethsemane. They’d be horrified. The Outside was the hellish place of their nightmares. The monster under their bed was the human race.

Forgive me, she whispered to imaginary children, touching each empty chair. Forgive me, Xian. Forgive me, Prague, Benghazi, Kat, Zanzibar, Moscow. Forgive me, Monty. Please forgive me, Damascus. I’m coming back.

Moments later she’d crept out by the back door. She headed for the path, hiding behind the school building. Then she was running, while the Gethsemane mind sobbed and begged her to turn back. She forced herself up and up, leaping across streams and tree roots, edging around cliffs where the path had crumbled away. As she ran she chanted two words, again and again, though her lungs felt ready to burst. She had to say the words. They were for Aden, for the children, for her friends and for Justin, who was her God.