‘If you find him ask him what he knows about two dead men and a broken-down car,’ the man said when Kevin stopped him in the middle of Milton and asked if he’d seen anyone wearing an eyepatch.
‘Sounds like Sean,’ Hoheria said. ‘More mysteries.’
A mile out of town the road forked. Kevin and Hoheria couldn’t decide, but Cheryl spoke up.
‘Try going left. Central Otago’s up the other way. I doubt if we’ll find your friend there.’
So left and south it was. By mid-afternoon they were crossing the Kahuika River on an ornate, high concrete bridge with the river swirling far below. They followed a series of Day-Glo signs, some with the AA insignia still attached, and in the carpark of what had once been a large hotel they found a bustling, seething market.
‘I’ve got no money,’ said Kevin. ‘Nothing to trade either.’ Hoheria looked rueful.
‘Me neither,’ she said. ‘And these smells are driving me crazy.’
Sheep and goats were roasting on spits. Home-brewed beer poured for passing patrons made their noses tingle with its rich, yeasty aroma. Bread baked in a wood-fired brick oven. Steaks and spicy sausage fried with onion rings on a barbecue tended by a large, bearded man with lurid tattoos filled the air with a mouth-watering smell.
‘I think I can help,’ Cheryl said. They turned to her. She was holding out a handful of gold coins.
‘Raid the poor box, did you?’ Kevin said.
Cheryl blushed. ‘Well, we’re poor, aren’t we?’
Hoheria laughed. ‘Not any more, we’re not!’
They were eating roast beef and horseradish sauce sandwiches washed down with a flagon of cider when a man approached.
‘Kia ora koutou,’ he said. ‘Welcome to Kahuika. My name’s Paki.’
‘Gidday then, Paki,’ said Kevin. He patted the form next to him. ‘Take a seat. Have some cider.’
Paki took a swig from the proffered flagon and passed it to Cheryl. ‘I can see you guys aren’t from around here,’ he said. ‘Anything I can do for you?’
Kevin looked at Hoheria. She nodded. ‘We’re trying to find somebody,’ Kevin said. ‘A guy called Sean.’
Paki looked blank.
‘Dreadlocks and an eyepatch?’ Kevin continued. ‘His dog’s a real sneak.’
The light came on in Paki’s eyes. ‘Is that his name?’ he said. ‘I didn’t meet him, but I heard about him. He had a woman with him.’ There was silence for a few moments while Paki looked carefully at all three. ‘Who wants to know anyway?’
‘We’re his family,’ Hoheria said.
Paki sat back and folded his arms. ‘We’re all family, especially these days, sister.’
‘I mean it,’ she said. ‘We promised to find him in the spring.’
Paki leaned over and took the flagon of cider from Cheryl. They all waited while he took a long pull, lowered the flagon, passed it back, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and belched loudly and deliberately.
‘Sounds like the guy can take care of himself,’ Paki said finally. ‘Try Kokopu Waters.’ He got up then. ‘And if you find him tell him I’m looking forward to meeting him.’ Standing, Paki towered over everyone. He wore his hair in a topknot, and covered his big-time wrestling bulk with the brightest island shirt any of them had ever seen.
‘Good to meet you guys,’ he said. ‘If you’re back this way call in and say gidday.’ The trio sat and watched while Paki turned and walked away to his tent.
‘Bet he can take care of himself too,’ Kevin said later as they followed directions down to the river and made themselves comfortable among a grove of willows.
‘Somebody’s been here before,’ said Hoheria. ‘There’s a fireplace.’ She pointed to a bare and blackened patch ringed with river stones. ‘I’d laugh if it was Sean.’
By late the following day the travellers were riding down the hill into Kokopu Waters.
‘Hope this is the place,’ said Kevin. ‘Long way to ride if it isn’t.’
‘It is,’ said Hoheria. ‘Where else could it be?’
They rode right through the town whistling and calling, and had almost convinced themselves they’d made a mistake when Cheryl saw a dinghy far out on the estuary, moving towards them. From the water’s edge, Sean, a red-haired woman and a small girl were just visible.
‘There’s Hamu in the back!’ cried Hoheria as the dinghy drew closer, Hamu’s tail wagging.
‘It’s the stern,’ said Kevin gruffly. Hoheria waved and jumped up and down. The red-haired woman waved back. Sean, who was rowing, had his back to them.
The keel scraped, Sean shipped the oars, everyone jumped out and together they pulled the boat up the beach.
Sean straightened and looked at Hoheria and Kevin, Cheryl suddenly shy behind them. He broke into a huge smile. ‘Have a good trip?’
Hoheria burst into tears. Kevin laughed. ‘The bus was late,’ he said. ‘But we got here.’
Sean looked at Cheryl.
‘This is our friend, Cheryl,’ Kevin said. ‘She saved our lives when we crossed the Waitaki River.’
‘Bet there’s a story in that one,’ Sean said. ‘You’re very welcome, girl.’ He turned to the red-haired woman and the child. ‘And this is Alex. She’s been saving my life since the day we met.’ He smiled then at Lydia, peeking out from behind Alex’s patchwork skirt. ‘Meet Lydia. She found us in Kahuika.’ He looked at the three. ‘Boy, are we glad to see you guys. This is the right place for sure, but it definitely needs more people.’
He stepped forward then, kissed Hoheria and Cheryl, and embraced Kevin. ‘Our place is just up here,’ he said. ‘There’s a paddock for the horses. Bojay’ll enjoy the company.’
The house was large and old. In a corner of the back yard was a grave containing an old couple Sean and Alex had found when they had arrived. They had given them a proper burial, more than they’d yet been able to do for most of the other dead of Kokopu Waters.
‘Poor old buggers,’ Alex had said. She’d picked up ornaments on the mantelpiece and looked at a collection of family photos clustered on the wall above a china cabinet. ‘They must have lived here most of their lives.’
Everything worked, and nothing needed electricity. A wood range had a wetback for hot water. A store of candles in a cupboard beneath the sink gave them light.
‘We’d better go easy with these,’ Sean had said. ‘We’ll get some beehives and start making our own.’
‘How about dogs?’ Kevin asked when they were all sitting in the kitchen drinking comfrey tea. Alex and Lydia moved closer together.
‘Not much trouble,’ Sean said. ‘Only one attack since we got here.’ Alex looked horrified as the memory washed over her.
‘I never saw anything like it before,’ she said. ‘This dog just charged at Lydia and Sean shot it. We got splattered with blood. Yuck.’
‘I made a new sawnoff,’ Sean told Kevin. ‘I had to trade the old one.’
‘Mine’s at the bottom of the Waitaki River,’ said Kevin.
The night of the dog attack Lydia had suffered a nightmare, thrashing and whimpering between Sean and Alex. They’d eventually had to get up, light a candle and make the girl a cup of chamomile tea. While they sat on the old double bed, blankets and a patchwork quilt around their shoulders, Lydia told them about her family dying. She was still shocked and distraught that they’d left her alone in an empty house.
‘We can go back and say goodbye properly if you like,’ said Alex.
‘It’s too late,’ said Lydia. ‘I set fire to everything when I tried to cook some food. The house burned down with them in it.’ She looked from Alex to Sean like she’d done something wrong and would be getting a telling-off.
‘My family died too,’ said Sean after a few moments. ‘I burned the house and all of them as well. It was the best thing.’ Lydia had looked surprised, then relieved.
‘You’re not mad at me?’
‘No, dear,’ said Alex. ‘I’d have done the same thing.’
‘Fresh fish tonight,’ Alex said to the others. ‘It’s still in the dinghy. You’ll have to clean it.’
‘He hasn’t made you eat eels yet?’ Kevin said.
‘He sure has. Horrible things. Possums and rabbits too.’ Alex put her arm around Lydia. ‘You know, I used to be a vegetarian …’
Cheryl spoke then, for the first time. ‘Show me to the fish. I’m a gun with a fishknife.’ She turned to Alex. ‘Don’t blame you not liking eels, dear,’ she said. ‘Pity there’re so many of them.’
When they were all seated at the table – fish fillets and chunks of wholemeal bread – Kevin asked Sean about the Maeroero.
‘No big deal,’ Sean said. He gave Alex a quick glance. She was busy helping Lydia take bones out of her fish. Kevin raised an eyebrow. Sean nodded.
The next day, when Kevin was on the foreshore helping Sean gather driftwood for the fire, he asked again.
‘I didn’t know what to say,’ Sean said. ‘Reject fairies? You know what you thought at first. Alex would be convinced I wasn’t all that tightly wrapped.’
‘What happened?’
Sean told him about the Changes, the way the Maeroero had caused reality to shift back and forth.
‘Why would they do that?’
Sean stopped, thought for a moment. ‘You ever hear time defined as nature’s way of making sure everything doesn’t happen at once?’
Kevin looked at him. ‘Too deep for me, bro.’
‘Anyway, for them it does. But that isn’t important. What matters is they caused the Fever, and they didn’t want humans to start up again. They tried to drive me crazy.’
Kevin laughed. ‘Them? Those little buggers? How could they tell, anyway?’
‘They nearly succeeded,’ Sean said. ‘But they did give me something. I haven’t known what to do with it.’ He removed his hat, took an apple pip from the band, and handed it to Kevin, who held it between thumb and forefinger and examined it.
‘Is this what I think it is?’
‘Sure is.’
Kevin thought for a moment, and handed the apple pip back to Sean.
‘You’d better plant it. See what happens.’
‘Would you and Hoheria help me?’
‘No sweat.’
‘What’s the go with the two dead men and the abandoned car?’ Kevin asked Sean the next day. ‘The people at Milton want to know.’
Sean laughed. ‘Ask Alex. It’s her story.’
‘So you’re not going to say?’
‘Nobody’s beeswax.’
Kevin approached Alex. She laughed too.
‘You’d better ask Sean,’ she said.
Kevin shook his head. The Maeroero were one thing, but this time he really should keep his nose out. ‘He told me it’s none of my business.’
‘Then it’s none of your business.’ She watched Kevin wrestling with his curiosity and relented.
‘He saved my life,’ she said. ‘I owe him a lot for that. And never mind the details. They really are nobody’s business but ours.’
‘Wonder what happened with Sean and Alex?’ Kevin mused, lying in bed with Hoheria that night, watching the rising moon through an open window. ‘And what do you reckon about us getting our own place?’ He chuckled. ‘Plenty to choose from.’
‘I’m ahead of you there,’ Hoheria replied. ‘I’ve already discussed it with Alex. She says the house next door will be ideal.’
‘Great. We can move in right away.’ He stopped for a moment, remembering something. ‘There’s one other thing. Sean told me what happened when he met the Maeroero. It’s pretty far-out, too. He doesn’t want to tell Alex. He says she probably won’t believe him.’ Kevin explained the whole story to Hoheria.
‘We’d better grow the seed then,’ she said. ‘Like it’s from my garden in Ōtautahi.’
A week later all six took a trip to the market at Kahuika to trade a load of smoked fish for salt and meat.
‘And chooks,’ Alex said. ‘We need some eggs.’ Lydia was delighted.
‘I’ll look after them,’ she said. ‘I like chooks.’
‘Everyone likes chooks,’ said Alex.
‘Nearly everyone,’ amended Sean, touching his eyepatch. ‘I like them roasted, but that’s all.’ Lydia narrowed her eyes and looked fierce.
‘Well,’ she said, clenched fists on hips. ‘Nobody’s roasting my chooks.’
The market was crowded when they rode up about noon. They tied their horses to a hitching rail on the ornamental front lawn of the pub carpark and were sorting out the smoked fish when Kevin tapped Sean on the shoulder.
‘There’s Paki,’ he said, gesturing towards a large man seated beneath a beach umbrella outside an open tent. People were greeting him as they passed, and Sean could hear over the hubbub ‘Kia ora, bro,’ and ‘Gidday, cuz!’ Sean couldn’t see any goods anywhere, and there was nothing on the table in front of Paki except a bottle and two glasses.
‘What does he trade?’ he asked Kevin, who shrugged.
‘Information, I guess.’
Paki stood up when Sean approached. The two men shook hands and hongi’d, and Paki indicated a chair. He raised an eyebrow at the bottle. Sean nodded. Paki toasted good weather, and they sipped their drinks. Paki then produced a small carved pipe from his vest pocket and packed it from a battered old cough-lolly tin. He handed it to Sean with a yellow Bic Flic lighter.
‘Not many of these still around,’ Sean said.
‘The lighter? Special occasions.’
‘I’m flattered.’ Sean lit the pipe and managed to take the whole load in one hit. He held it in as long as he could, then exhaled a huge cloud of smoke. ‘That’s good herb,’ he said, after blowing the bowl clean and handing the pipe back to Paki. ‘Good hooch too.’ He took another sip of his drink. So. It was going to be one of those ‘last one standing’ sessions. But Paki surprised him. He smoked a pipe himself then put the implement away in his pocket. Sean could see people at the market giving them sidelong glances.
Paki laughed. ‘I can’t afford to get too out-of-it with these people,’ he said. ‘They wouldn’t want to know me. It’s hard enough as it is.’
Sean looked at Paki’s topknot, the tropical beach scene on his shirt. ‘Maybe a plain sun umbrella would help,’ he said.
Paki laughed. Over his shoulder Sean could see the Kokopu Waters folk. He waved and they approached. Kevin and Alex were carrying cages woven from willow switches. Inside each were perched three chooks. Lydia and Hamu were dancing around the cages. Hoheria and Cheryl were holding bags of goods.
Paki noticed Cheryl. He turned back to Sean. ‘If I say gidday to that dark-haired woman am I going to upset anybody?’ he asked.
‘Don’t think so,’ said Sean. ‘But those women are pretty staunch. Hope you know what you’re doing.’
Paki swallowed nervously. ‘I’m taking a big chance,’ he said, rising to his full height. ‘Allow me to shout you guys a meal,’ he announced, and bowed deeply with a flourish.
‘Why thank you, sir,’ said Alex. ‘We’d be delighted.’
Paki smiled at Alex, but Sean could see it was Cheryl who’d taken most of his attention. She was returning Paki’s gaze. The spark between them fizzed and crackled and leapt back and forth.
When they were all outside a booth eating slices of spit-roasted goat with redcurrant sauce and a salad made from young pūhā leaves, chopped apricots and sunflower seeds, Paki took the stool next to Cheryl and introduced himself.
‘I don’t have much going for me,’ Sean heard him say. ‘But I’m unattached. And I really fancy you.’
Cheryl put down her knife and turned to Paki. Everyone was riveted by then, all pretending to be engrossed elsewhere. ‘I find you attractive too,’ she said. ‘And I don’t have a lot of time for silly courtship games.’ She spoke to Sean then. ‘Do you mind if Paki comes home with us?’
Sean would rather have stood in front of a combine harvester than get in their way. ‘Not at all,’ he said and grinned at Paki. ‘There’s an offer you’d better not refuse.’
Paki and Cheryl rode side by side the whole distance, talking and laughing under the afternoon sun while birds chirped and fluttered in the trees.
‘I grew up in Ōtepoti,’ Paki told Cheryl. ‘But I feel right at home in Kahuika, like I’m at the centre of things, if you know what I mean.’
‘Me, I’m from Timaru and I’ve never been at the centre of anything unless it was a rough time.’ Cheryl gave Paki a hard look, as if she was assessing his capacity for treachery.
He dropped the reins and lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender.
‘No way, girl,’ he said. ‘The only time I’m interested in is a good time.’ He picked up the reins again and smiled at Cheryl. ‘I’ll try to guess what you want, but it’s been a long time and I mightn’t get things right. So you tell me.’
That night they all sat round the dinner table eating slices of roast goat with fried vegetables and salad washed down with a flagon of dry white.
‘This is a cheeky little number,’ said Sean. Paki laughed. He’d picked up the wine at the markets.
‘Chateau Rough-as-guts,’ he said. When everyone had finished eating, Kevin and Hoheria started to clear the table. Paki rose to help them.
‘You sit down,’ Alex said. ‘You’re a guest.’
Paki stopped, then turned to Alex. ‘I’ve done this three times in two years,’ he said. ‘Each time was a disaster.’ He picked up a stack of plates and moved to the sink. ‘The people were scared of me.’ He sounded puzzled. His topknot was glossy in the candlelight. Boob tats rippled on his massive forearms.
‘Do you like chooks?’ Lydia suddenly asked.
Paki’s face softened. ‘I’ll say,’ he said. ‘We’d better save these scraps for them. Have you got a bucket?’
In the morning Lydia took Paki outside to show him the chooks in their willow cages.
‘Sean told me we need a run for them,’ she said. ‘Can you build chook runs?’
Cheryl laughed. ‘There’s your first big challenge,’ she said.