The Zizou Bar is packed and Materena can see within one second that the story about only ugly Tahitian girls dancing at the Zizou Bar is an absolute myth. The girls here tonight are young, tanned, full of energy . . . they are stunning! She says this to Mori.
“Oh, I’ve met lots of beauties in bars,” he says, “but for some reason, the next morning they’ve changed.”
Materena reminds Mori that he’s her bodyguard tonight and that he’d better not disappear on her. “I’m not paying for your two glasses of beer for you to go drinking with another woman,” she says. They head for the bar and Mori gets his beer, then they sit at a table away from the dance floor. Materena, sipping her water, looks around.
She feels strange . . . All those
popa’a
men, those
militaires,
those young men flirting with the young women. The romance in the dark, the French music, the French accent. Materena watches the couples dancing away on the dance floor, cheek to cheek, smiling the smile of love.
Was it like this when Loana was dancing with Tom? When they were young? Tears well in Materena’s eyes as Mori finishes his beer and gets up to buy his second.
There’s a woman sitting on her
popa’a
lover’s knee and they’re passionately kissing. Another woman, her back pressed against the wall, is also passionately kissing her lover. There’s drunken laughter all around. Mori is now talking to a woman standing against the wall in a dark corner. Well, as long as they’re only talking, Materena thinks, but Mori better not disappear.
Five minutes later, while Materena is busy looking at the couples dancing, Mori and the mysterious beauty make a quick exit, and not long after, three
militaires
sit down at Materena’s table. They ask her if she’d like a drink, if she’d like a dance, if she’d like to go for a little walk.
Materena’s answer is firm. “Thank you, but my cousin, the big tall man over there with the Rasta hairstyle . . . ,” she says, looking over to where Mori was standing seconds ago. “My cousin,” she continues, smiling at her
militaire
friends, “he’s going to be back soon.”
Materena thinks that those
militaires
must be pretty desperate, because she knows very well she looks like a middle-aged woman dressed like she’s going to clean someone’s house.
“You are so beautiful,” one slurs. “Are you happy?”
“My eldest son is in France.” Materena is trying to divert the conversation. “He’s in the army.”
“I love older women.” This
militaire
is drunk too.
“My youngest son is a chef at the Beachcomber.”
“I think I’m in love with you.” Another drunk
militaire.
“My daughter is with her boyfriend in Moorea, he’s a dentist and she works with Dr. Bernard.” Okay, that’s it, Materena is going outside to see what’s going on with Mori. But there’s no sign of Mori outside. She asks the bouncer if he saw her cousin, the big tall man with the Rasta hairstyle.
He shrugs. “It’s not my business what people do outside the bar.”
So Materena walks up and down the street, calling out, “Mori! Mori? Mori?” In the end, she gets into Mori’s car and waits, all the while muttering about how Mori is going to get it. Bodyguards don’t just go walkabout!
But here is a taxi pulling up in front of Mori’s car. Two young girls get out, giggling and blowing kisses to the Chinese taxi driver.
Materena is inside that taxi in a flash. “How much for you to drive me to Faa’a?”
The driver turns around and checks his passenger. “For you . . . half price.”
Materena gives the taxi driver a smile of gratitude, and to prove to him that she indeed appreciates the special price, she asks him questions about his family, if he’s got a wife, children.
“I’ve got four children,” he says.
“Oh, you and your wife are very blessed.”
“I’m not with my wife anymore,” the taxi driver says.
“Oh really? That’s sad, but maybe it was for the best, eh.”
“I’ve got a new wife, and my new wife, she”—the taxi driver glances at Materena—“my new wife, she likes sex, not like my old wife.” He goes on about how his old wife only ever gave him excuses and how the new wife is always chasing him all over the house.
Materena is tempted to say, “Well, that’s because she’s a new wife,” but she just nods in the way we nod to show that we totally understand the situation.
“You’re married?” the taxi driver asks.
Materena says that she is and that she’s been with her husband for more than twenty years now.
“Ah, you must like sex!”
Materena wants to tell that man off, but thinking about the special price, she giggles uncomfortably and looks out the window to show that she’s thinking now and not in the talking mood anymore. She doesn’t talk about sexy loving with strangers!
But the taxi driver is very interested to talk about sex with Materena. He gives Materena hints that he’s a great lover and very soon he’s proposing to take Materena to a hotel for a quiet drink.
Materena stays silent, thinking: I can’t believe what I’m hearing! Can’t he see I’m a respectable middle-aged woman? Ah, if the taxi driver were a big man, she would be very concerned. Luckily the taxi driver is a little skinny man. With one slap, Materena could make him fly all the way to France.
“So?” The taxi driver switches the light on. “We go to the hotel?”
Materena quickly reads the driver’s identity card, hanging from the rearview mirror. “Listen, Justin Ah-Kan, Number Fifteen. People don’t call me Mad Materena for nothing, okay?”
The light goes off and Materena ponders if she’s going to have enough money to pay the taxi fare, considering that Justin is not going to be giving her a special price. Plus, he’s driving so slowly now. He slows down at the orange light instead of accelerating, as trucks do, and stops for the red light. Materena, annoyed, looks at the Suzuki car pulling up next to them. The couple inside the car is kissing, full on the lips, and it seems to Materena that she’s recognizing Ati.
She hurries to wind the window down and hesitantly calls out, “Eh, Ati? Is that you?”
The kissing ceases abruptly and Ati, shocked, exclaims, “Materena? What are you doing in a taxi at this time of night?”
“Can you drive me home?” Next minute, Materena is in her husband’s best friend’s car telling him all about her mission and how Mori disappeared on her. Ati listens but his girlfriend doesn’t seem to care about Materena’s mission, she cares more about kissing Ati on the neck.
“Can you stop your cinema!” Ati says to his girlfriend, sounding very exasperated.
“You didn’t mind my cinema before!” the girlfriend says. Materena hurries to say that she doesn’t mind all the kissing. “Continue, don’t worry about me.” The girlfriend does just that, but now Ati is dropping her at her door.
“But you said —”
“Good night, I’ll call you tomorrow.” Ati speeds away, firing questions at Materena about her night, if she danced a little, if she talked a little. Materena wonders if Ati is interrogating her so that he can report the answers back to Pito. Is Ati playing spy? He’s looking at Materena in the rearview mirror with suspicious eyes.
“Ati, I’ve had lots of men interested in me tonight” —Materena wants Pito to know this—“but I’m only interested in one person.”
“I know what you mean. I’m also only interested in one person.”
“You!” Materena laughs. “You think women are like tires.”
“That’s because I can’t have the woman I love.”
Materena guesses that Ati is referring to the woman he lost to a legionnaire many years ago. She tenderly puts a hand on Ati’s shoulder.
“Ati, you can’t go on mourning that woman you lost to a legionnaire, you must —”
“That bitch! I’m not talking about her!”
Speaking softly, Ati goes on about how he’s talking about another woman. A woman he has loved for years. She is the only woman Ati wants.
“Well, go get her!” Materena says. “What are you waiting for?”
But the woman Ati loves is married, so he tells Materena. All Materena can say is that another woman is sure to come Ati’s way one day, and that woman is going to make the other woman disappear like that. Materena clicks her fingers and Ati laughs a faint laugh.
“Did you know I’m living by myself now?” Ati says.
“What?” That has got to be the news of the century. Materena can’t believe Pito didn’t tell her about it. “And your mama? She’s fine?”
“Oh, she cried, she threw herself on the ground, but I wasn’t going to live with her for the rest of my life.”
“Ah, true,” Materena agrees, thinking: You’re forty-two years old, after all.
“I’ve got a flat in Papeete.”
“Ah, no lawn to mow then, eh?”
“I’ve got heaps of plants in pots.”
“Ah,” Materena says, thinking,
Aue,
poor plants. She gives them about a week.
“You should come and see my place one day,” Ati says, smiling.
“Of course,” Materena says, thinking, What’s this? Why is Ati trying to cajole me?
“You want to drink a coffee at the airport? I’ve got a proposition to make to you.”
Usually, whenever Ati has a proposition to make, Materena laughs, slaps him on the shoulder, and says, “Ati, you’re never going to convert me, okay? You know very well what I feel about Independence. I’m half-French, and I can’t change this.”
But tonight, Materena would like to find out what his proposition is.
She herself has a proposition for Ati . . . her only connection to Radio Tefana. So Materena tells her husband’s best friend that coffee at the airport sounds like a very good idea.
“So,” Materena says, stirring her coffee and trying not to stare at the other drunken couples drinking coffee at the airport and looking like they need to wake up a little before they can carry on with . . . whatever. “What’s your proposition?”
“You know that I’ve always liked you.” Ati looks deeply into Materena’s eyes.
“
Oui,
I know, you like me because I’m the wife of your best friend.”
“
Non,
I like you because of you.”
Materena smiles and takes a sip of her coffee, thinking how she should have gone home instead of accepting Ati’s invitation, but she has an idea and it’s really important that she talks about it with Ati.
“I like you a lot,” Ati repeats, this time sounding so serious.
“Enough to help me with anything?” Materena asks.
“Anything you want, just ask me.”
“Well,” Materena begins, “I’ve got an idea and it’s about . . .” Materena’s voice trails off. She’s a bit embarrassed to talk about her idea to start a talk-back radio show aimed at women. Ati might think she’s trying to big-note herself. He might laugh and say, “This is your idea? I thought it was something interesting.”
“So?” Ati asks, putting a hand on Materena’s. “What is your idea about?”
“I can’t tell you about it now,” Materena says, taking her hand away. “Maybe after my fortieth birthday.”
“What’s happening after your birthday?”
“Who knows?”
“Am I in your idea?”
“Indirectly,
oui.
” Materena smiles, but when Ati puts his hand on hers again, she hurries to add, “But it’s not what you think.” She feels Ati better know this now. She doesn’t want to lead him onto the wrong path, so she takes her hand away again. “I love Pito, you know that.”
“
Salaud.
” Ati cackles. “I’m jealous.”
“But are you still going to be there for me when I’m going to need you?” Materena asks. She doesn’t know yet how strongly she feels about her idea, but tomorrow might be a different story.
“Materena,” says Ati, keeping both hands in his pockets, “I’ve known you for more than twenty years. You’re like a best friend to me.”
T
he birthday girl is about to blow the candles out on her triple-chocolate cake. But first she’s got to make her wish, eh? Everyone standing around the kitchen table is waiting, and there are so many wishes Materena could make tonight, on her fortieth birthday.
She looks around at all the people who are part of her life, a silent tear falling out of the corner of her eye, and thinks, I can’t believe I’m forty years old!
Merde,
life goes fast.
Now, about that wish, what is it going to be?
Well, Materena wishes for Cousin Rita to fulfill her dream of falling pregnant. She wishes for her mother to fulfill her wish of having her son and her grandchildren live in Tahiti. She wishes for Moana to get his wish of buying a restaurant.
She also wishes for:
Ati to meet a very nice woman.
Pito to get promoted.
Rose to find a job in Australia.
Vahine to forget about Tamatoa and move on with her life.
When it comes to wishing, Materena is never out of ideas. She wishes for Tamatoa to remember it’s her birthday tonight, she wishes for Leilani to find out what she’d like to do with her life soon, she’s been Dr. Bernard’s assistant/ receptionist for nearly two years now . . .
She wishes for . . .
“Come on, Materena,” Pito says, “how hard is it to make a wish?”
Materena blows out her candles.
“
Joyeux anniversaire!
”
They’re all singing the birthday song now, making Materena cry her eyes out into her pareu. The birthday song, even when sung with happiness, always makes Materena cry. The next fifteen minutes are spent kissing the birthday girl, and the next hour is spent teasing the birthday girl, who is, as of now, entitled to the title Mama. That’s the deal. The day you turn forty, you become a mama. Welcome into the respectable clan of hardworking mothers!
“
Non,
thank you,” Materena tells everyone, her husband especially. “I’m Materena, full stop. When you are a mama, the next thing, you are a
meme,
an old woman only good for raking the leaves and minding the grandchildren. I’m not ready for that yet!” As far as Materena is concerned, turning forty is not about turning into a mama, it’s about . . . it’s about something else. But first things first . . . Materena had best mingle with her guests to make sure everything is fine and to thank everyone for coming.