| |
Wiri worked for an hour before he noticed Seline’s absence. Leilah slammed the drawer of the cash register and leaned her forearms on the counter next to him with a sigh. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he winced. A glance at Leilah’s sagging shoulders told him not to check the message. “I hope you’re never disappointed in your children, Wiri,” she said, her tone laden with emotion.
He finished wiping spilled grinds from in front of the coffee machine before answering her. “I’m not having kids.”
“Oh.” Leilah frowned and stood upright. Her features pinched into a concerned expression. “How can you know that already?”
He shrugged and stepped into the kitchen to rinse out the cloth. The sudden lull in customers allowed Leilah to follow him and his shoulders stiffened. Other people didn’t understand. It’s as though they couldn’t see him as complete unless he was prepared to father offspring. She leaned against the chiller and he sensed her preparing arguments he’d heard a million times before. But she didn’t pursue the subject. “Sorry about Seline,” she said. Her sigh showed she’d uttered one more apology in a growing line of them. There would be more to come, and she knew it.
“No worries.” Wiri shook out the cloth and turned towards the archway. The unopened envelope burned through his jeans, scouring the flesh from his thigh. His fingers twitched against the cloth and he ached to find a quiet space and face the contents. He squared his jaw and resisted further confidences with Leilah. “I’ll fetch the old boy his coffee and then head up to the farm.” His tight smile indicated the end of the conversation.
Ted grunted as Wiri set the cappuccino next to him on the counter. Cinnamon dusted the surface of the frothy milk in a smiley face. Ted snatched at the handle of the mug and inspected Wiri’s careful handiwork. “Twat!” he offered as a rebuke.
Wiri laughed. “That’s my best art, man!” he protested.
Ted’s crabbed fingers dragged the mug beneath his hooked nose. He exhaled and cinnamon dust floated upwards before gravity halted its flight and cast it onto the counter like snow. Or glass. Wiri swallowed at the memory of the window pane speckling the surface. The cuts to his cheek had scarred, creating thin white ridges against his tanned skin. Ted glanced up at him, his lower lip folding over to reveal his pink gums. “You’re leaving, ain’t ya?”
Wiri’s head jerked backwards. He gaped at the old man, unable to source the right words for the moment. “I don’t think so,” he replied instead.
“Yeah. You are.” Ted sighed. He ran a thin hand across the top of his cap and straightened the brim. Remand prison hadn’t been kind to him. He’d lost weight. And hope. He swallowed and his hand snaked towards Wiri, the fingers flattening into the offering of a handshake. Wiri accepted it, his wide palm closing around the fragile paw. Ted gulped and turned on his stool. He sat alone at his counter again. The other stool had disappeared soon after his release. Leilah didn’t search for it.
“I never thanked you, tama,” he said, his voice a scratchy whisper. “I’ve seen you struggling with that bullet wound and you’ve never once complained. You sorted out the money stuff with your legal friends. And you spoke for me in court.” He nodded, the action a sad bobbing of a too big head on a thin strand of a neck. “You’re the reason I got me this ankle bracelet and not a jail term.” He bumped his leg against the stool and it gave a metallic clang. His chin wobbled. “Thank you, my friend,” he whispered. “I’ll miss you.” He withdrew his slender fingers like a lizard sliding from a burrow in the ground. Wiri gaped at the side of the old man’s head, his chest tight and his knees weak.
“Now, piss off. You’ve got places to be and it ain’t here.”
Wiri turned his boots towards the kitchen, but his legs resisted the command to walk. He faltered, licking his lips as he considered his request. Ted glared up at him with his brows drawn low over his eyes. “One thing,” Wiri said. “Who gave you the ride up to the water tank?”
“Eh?” Ted grunted. His body scrunched smaller on his stool. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
Wiri swallowed. “It does to me. Did Mari give you a ride up there? Did she ask for your help?”
Ted groaned. Few people spoke her name anymore. She’d died alone and afraid in the women’s prison in Auckland while awaiting her trial date. Her lawyer argued during the first hearing that she should receive bail, but the judge disagreed. The charges ranged from grievous bodily harm to hiding a body and attempted murder. Unlike Ted, who accidentally discharged a firearm, the judge deemed Mari a greater risk. Death took her that night while she slept. The coroner promised Leilah she’d known no pain. She went to sleep, her heart stopped, and she didn’t wake up.
Ted’s feet shuffled on the rungs beneath the stool. His Adam’s apple bobbed in the stubble coating his scrawny neck. He would have rebuffed anyone else, but he owed Wiri. “That girl,” he said, his tone a low growl. “Leilah’s daughter.”
“Seline?” Wiri’s neck jerked back hard enough to make the tendons pop. “But she was at Vaughan’s place. I spoke to her.”
“Aye.” Ted’s index finger curled through the handle of his mug. “Then she went somewhere after that.” He shrugged. “Mari told me what happened with Hendricks and what she’d done. I started walking towards Vaughan’s place in a panic. Hoped one of the farm boys from Pirongia might drive past and give me a ride. A few of them came in here for their lunch. But the girl recognised me and stopped. She dropped me on the main road before turning into her driveway. I got a ride back to town with Roddy, who works for Boston’s farm. He didn’t remember because he was stoned.”
Wiri heaved out a sigh of exasperation. “Where did you tell Seline you were going?”
“Didn’t.” Ted blew on his coffee and the froth moved. “She didn’t ask. Too busy pulling a big trailer with a finicky horse inside it. Mari arrived back here in a terrible state. I thought she might have left some evidence behind.” He chuckled. “She left more than that.”
Wiri cocked his head. His thigh ached, and he yearned to take the weight off his feet. A twinge from his coccyx deadened his other leg as though in sympathy. But Ted’s body relaxed as he found catharsis in the truth. “Bloody Hendricks lay on his back staring up at the sky.”
“Wait, what?” Shock obscured Wiri’s discomfort. He leaned closer, as though unable to believe Ted’s story. “Mari didn’t tip him into the tank?”
“Na.” Ted dug his crabbed index finger into the mug and obliterated Wiri’s smiley face. “She panicked and drove back here. Tane nabbed her for speeding at the end of Hector’s old driveway.” He raised a bushy eyebrow and stared at Wiri. “I shouldn’t have mouthed off about her speeding fine. Didn’t realise it was from that time.” He gave a solemn shake of his head. “She was always getting them. But that one put her at the scene. Shoulda kept my mouth shut.”
Wiri groaned and his shoulders slumped. “You tipped the body into the water tank. Not Mari. And you let the cows out to trample the crime scene.”
Ted frowned and licked the froth from his finger. “What does it matter now?” His voice degenerated into a growl. He lifted his right leg to inspect the electronic tag placed over his ankle by a probation officer. “She’s gone, anyway. The only wāhine I ever loved. I’d have done anything for her.”
Wiri ran a hand through his hair and left his fringe sticking up at the front. “Yeah. Hide a body, lie about it, watch me take the fall, and then shoot me.” He slapped his thigh with his palm and gasped at the pain which ricocheted through the muscle. “I’m such an idiot!”
“Na.” Ted exhaled with force. “I like ya. Are ya coming back ever?”
“No!” Wiri spat. “Not if my life depends on it!”
