Geronimo looked at his watch. Five a.m. No time to lose. He was meant to be picking up Cheyenne at 5:30 but he needed something to eat first. He pulled on his jeans, football socks. It would probably be warm later, but now he felt the cold, especially straight out of bed. He felt on the hook behind the door for his jacket. Gone! His Scorpion jacket gone. He had worn it the day before yesterday. There was nowhere else it could be.
As he emerged from the little shed where he lived at the back of his parents’ place, Mangu came bouncing up. He was mostly staffy but had something else in him that made him jumpy. Probably foxy. A small dog but lots of heart. Geronimo crouched by the clothesline to rub the dog’s ribs with his knuckles. Mangu immediately rolled onto his back and slithered along the lawn.
Geronimo was pissed off. It had to be one of the fosters. Still thought yours was ours. Sort that one out. He opened the back door of the house and slipped inside silently. He had to be quiet because the two new kids his mum had taken in were asleep in the sitting room. Once they were awake the whole house would be on its feet. And there were a bunch of them and they were always hungry. Mongrels!
He pulled the mutton roast from the fridge and made a few sandwiches. He knew he would be as hungry as hell in an hour or two. There was only time for a few Weetbix now. He tiptoed down the hall for a quick slash before he left. The door to his parents’ bedroom was open wide and one of them was snoring loudly. It sounded like someone sawing wood. In the second bedroom, Wesley and Boyboy were in bunks. That used to be where he and Chey slept. Liz and Ngaire were in the front room. Now there was a procession of welfare kids. Some staying a year or more, others only a day. His mum had this nurturing thing, and in the face of quiet opposition from everyone else, had been taking in kids non-stop ever since the girls had left home. Cheyenne couldn’t stand it, he’d shot through as soon as he had the chance. Geronimo, more independent in his room out the back, managed to keep separate from the busy routines of the house.
He checked back in the bunk room. Maus was gone. Maus! That would be right. The kid was incurable. He was here on last chance. His mum said, next time they lock him away in the boys’ home. She loved the challenge. But now his jacket had been taken. It had the little Scorpion pin on it. Shit! Was Maus gonna pay for this one.
Geronimo pulled on the white gumboots that were parked by the back step and had to fight off Mangu again who knew he was going out and was making a bid to go too. They walked together around to the front, Mangu leaping high to his outstretched hand.
The black F100 nestled in behind the hedge on the front lawn. There had been a couple of times in the past year where someone had tried to boost it, so now he pulled the fuse before he left it each night. He popped the bonnet and carefully slotted it back in. The ute’s hearty rumble kicked in straight away. It took the edge off his anger. Now it was off to Cheyenne’s.
Since Chey had moved in with Pearly he had become more settled and harder to motivate. There was a time when it would have been him getting Geronimo out of bed to go fishing, not the other way round.
Geronimo guessed bed was a nicer place when you had a woman in it every night. But there was the hassle of a chick. Fitting in with what they wanted, was it worth it? He didn’t think so. Just another way of tying yourself down. All that sex carried a big price tag.
When he pulled up outside the flats, Cheyenne was waiting on the front step with rod in hand. He got up and walked down to the ute as soon as it came into view.
‘Hey, Chey, caught me out, man. I’s sure you’d be in with the missus eh? Reckoned it would be another twenty minutes getting you out.’
‘No way, man. Fishing is still fishing. Pearly was out to it, anyway. We had a late one last night. Hardly worth going to bed knowing you’d be round at five.’
They headed for the boat ramp with the growing air of expectation that always came when they neared the harbour. The day was full of possibilities and on the water everything land-bound seemed far away and unimportant. Over by the big shed there was a sort of rack arrangement where they stored their boat. It was a bit of a drag carrying it down but it saved all the crap that went with owning a trailer.
Cheyenne unlocked the big chain that held the boat down on the rack and Geronimo carried the little outboard from the lock box on the back of the Ford down to the water’s edge. They were a good team, he and Chey. They didn’t need words or roles, they just got things done. After they had assembled the little pile of gear, motor, petrol can, bait box, rods and oars down by the ramp, they both braced themselves for the longer haul carrying the boat. Although aluminium and only just over four metres, she was still a weighty little vessel.
‘Te waka … Te waka …’ answered Chey. The little echo from kapa haka days. Some things never changed.
Reaching the sea they took off their gumboots and threw everything into the body of the little boat. The water felt warm around their ankles, in contrast with the sting of the morning air. The sky was beginning to lighten and the dark bulk of the northern shore was visible amongst the dots of street lights.
Cheyenne pushed the dinghy away from the shore and carefully lowered himself over the edge. Geronimo was already up front sorting out the lines. The little motor refused to fire at first, answering his powerful pulls with a dull whurr. On the fourth or fifth pull there was the tell-tale chuff that signalled the right conditions were being met in the mysterious upper cylinder. Sure enough, it fired next pull. Once it ran there was no stopping this motor, so they headed off for their special spot.
The morning air was still a bit keen as they ripped through the black water. It was good though. Cleared the head. Woke them up. Ronnie’s eyes were alert for the landmarks on both sides of the harbour that told him he was in position. The power pylon had to be in line with One Tree Hill, and on the other shore a pohutukawa lined up with the first span of Mangere Bridge. He backed off the motor as they neared the spot. Chey had the lines baited with bonito, ready to go. There was always that thrill of the first bite – waiting for it made them both impatient during these initial few minutes. Ronnie cut the motor and Chey dropped the anchor. The rattling chain clattered over the bow and was followed by the hissing nylon rope. The anchor hit the bottom of the shallow harbour earlier than expected so they drifted a little to take up the slack.
Chey passed him his rod and they both cast out on either side of the boat at the same time. Neither spoke as they waited for a strike. After what seemed only a matter of seconds, Ronnie felt the tug that started the fishing for the day. It was reliable, this spot.
Half an hour and several small snapper later, Chey broke the silence.
‘So what’s up bro?’
‘What?’
‘Why you pissed off?’
Ronnie sat frowning at the ripples around his line. ‘You know that Maus fulla at Mum’s?’
‘Ae, the thief.’
‘You said a bunch there bro, he’s lifted my jacket.’
‘Scorpion jacket?’
Geronimo nodded.
‘Ho. That’s dumb. I reckon that kid’s a bit mental. Told Mum that I thought that too.’
‘What did she say?’
‘Give him a chance, Cheyenne, he’s never known aroha.’
Cheyenne was a good mimic. Geronimo grinned.
‘He’s not gonna get much aroha when I catch up with him.’
‘If you catch up with him.’
‘I’ll get him all right, he’ll be with the streeties in town. Just a matter of time before he’s spotted, then he’s mine.’
They fished silently for a while, lost in their own thoughts. Then it was Geronimo who broke the silence.
‘I got this job.’
‘Yeah, I know. With Ozzie the King of K. Road.’
‘No not that, this is somethin’ else. Moonlighting. You know this guy, Vercoe, puts some notes my way?’
‘Yeah man, you’ve said.’
‘Yeah, well, he gets me to do a bit of hunting and gathering.’
‘This is hunting and it needs two.’
Ronnie sensed Chey’s reluctance. Didn’t used to be that way, not when they were little boys. Now he had to choose the moment carefully.
‘OK. What’s up?’
‘Nothing much, just there’s this spook hangs out there. I gotta watch my back.’
‘Spook?’
‘Just a guy. He watches me, I know it.’
‘What does he look like?’
‘Never had a real good look at him, that’s why I call him the spook. Seen him in the distance, caught a glimpse now and then but that’s about it.’
‘Freaky.’
‘That’s why I want you with me for this op. He’ll keep well back.’
Cheyenne looked uncertain.
‘You in?’ Geronimo asked, his voice now clearly tense.
There was silence for a while as both men looked at their lines.
‘Truth is Pearly’s not keen on me doing this sort of thing. I’ll have to tell her I’m helping you carry something heavy. Something like that, anyway.’
‘Whatever … you in?’
‘OK. This time brother…’