Authors: Rosalind James
Kate laughed. “Nope. Looks like that one’s over. And she
wasn’t too happy about it,” she went on mischievously, the wine loosening her
tongue. “I was there.”
“Tell,” Corinne demanded. As Kate recounted the story, the
women hooted.
“It’s terrible of me to think it’s funny,” Kate finished,
wiping her eyes. “But she was such a bitch, I couldn’t help it. Not to mention,
I could have taken her,” she added confidently. “Except the last thing Koti
needs is to watch women fighting over him. I don’t think he really has as big
an ego as people think. But he doesn’t need to grow it any more, let’s put it
that way.”
“Rightyo, then,” Brenda decided. “If he’s available, next
time he comes into the office, I’m having a chat. If you don’t mind, that is.”
Kate found herself brought up short. She didn’t like the
idea at all, actually. But if she and Koti were just friends, their love lives
were their own business. She hadn’t liked it when he’d puffed up at the thought
of Kevin taking her out. And she couldn’t have it both ways.
“Of course, if you want to,” she said finally.
“Hmm,” Brenda looked at her thoughtfully. “That took a bit.
Sure about that?”
Kate groaned and put her head in her hands. “I hope it’s
just too much wine. I don’t seem to be thinking straight. But I’m not going out
with the guy. If you want to, you should go ahead. Don’t mind me.”
Seven-thirty came much too early the next morning. “You’re
not looking too flash,” Koti observed when a bleary-eyed Kate answered the door
at his ring. “Out on the razzle last night? Or maybe just out late with the
coven. A bit enthusiastic with the broomsticks, eh.”
“You think you’re funny, but you’re not,” Kate scowled as
she eased herself gingerly into his car. “You’re right, though. I did have a late
night. And a drink or two too many. Why does that always seem like such a good
idea at the time?”
He grinned. “A question for the ages.”
“Why do you look so cheerful, anyway?” she grumbled. “You’re
supposed to be the hard-living rugby player. How come you’re always so annoyingly
bright-eyed in the early morning?”
“Because I don’t drink too much,” he said piously. “What?”
he protested at her derisive snort. “I’m in training. I don’t give up
completely like a few of the boys, but I don’t have more than a beer or two at
a time during the season. Whatever you think, I do take my career seriously.”
“I’m too tired even to argue with you properly,” she sighed.
“I hate to fall behind on points here, but you’re going to have to give me a
pass till next time.”
“Fair enough. Why don’t you go to sleep? We’ll stop for
brekkie on the way. I’ll wake you up, no worries.”
By the time they arrived outside the tiny town of Waitomo
and entered the rafting company’s headquarters, Kate was feeling better. Even
though she’d protested that she wasn’t hungry, the eggs, toast, and coffee Koti
had insisted she order at their earlier stop had helped settle her stomach and
wake her up.
“What a surprise. The tour office is also a café. Is there
anything you can do in New Zealand that doesn’t involve a stop for coffee?”
Kate wondered. “How can everyone be so laid-back, when you’re all running on
espresso fumes?”
“Because we only drink one at a time, and they’re small. When
I’ve been in the States, they keep coming around and refilling your cup. First
time, reckon I’d drunk five cups before I realized. I don’t think I shut my
eyes that night.”
“You might have something there,” she admitted. “And now
that my head’s a little clearer, tell me what I owe you for this tour we’re
doing.”
“My shout,” he told her firmly. “I invited you, didn’t I.
Invite me next time, and I’ll avert my eyes while you pay, I promise.”
“Too late,” he said cheerfully when she began to protest. “They’re
calling us. Time to go.”
As the group got themselves into wetsuits and gumboots, the
ubiquitous footwear of muddy New Zealand, Kate was disheartened to notice some
elbowing and whispering going on. Although their two guides obviously knew who
Koti was, they weren’t making a fuss. And the Canadians and Japanese in the
group were happily oblivious. But the three young Australians weren’t so
restrained, and it soon became apparent that they weren’t content to let the
occasion go unremarked.
“Mind giving us your autograph, mate?” one of the young men
asked as they climbed into the van that would take them to the cave. “My
sister’s dead keen on you.”
The woman with him added, “How about a photo with me too? My
mates will all be jealous when I tell them you were on our tour. I’m Liz, by
the way.” She turned from her seat in the row ahead and smiled at Koti
invitingly.
“We don’t want to hold up the tour. Maybe Koti will have
time to sign for you afterwards,” Kate told the young Aussie, deliberately
avoiding looking at his girlfriend. “But personally, I want to get started.”
“Got my watchdog here,” Koti explained with a grin. “I have
to do what she says, eh. She bites.”
Once the van reached the caves, to Kate’s relief, the guides
were good-humoredly efficient in getting the group outfitted with harnesses and
explaining their gear, and the subject was dropped.
“Want to start us off with the abseil, Koti?” Jessica, one
of their two guides, had stayed at the top to launch them, while Ben had
descended into the cave to await them below. “Thirty-five meters to the bottom.
Scream if you get scared, and we’ll rescue you.”
He stepped willingly into the dark hole leading down into
the cave, letting out the rope to descend into the abyss. There wasn’t any
screaming, but Kate did hear a few choice words.
“Pretty narrow for those shoulders in a spot or two,”
Jessica explained. “He’ll be giving himself a bit of a shove through.”
She didn’t seem concerned. “Doesn’t anyone ever get stuck?”
Kate asked. “You must get some clients who are a little . . . rotund.”
Jessica laughed. “Too right. The Americans tend to be surprised
that it’s not easier. Reckon they expect Disneyland.”
Kate was exhilarated to find herself descending at last in
her turn into the dark. She, at least, had no problem getting through the
narrow spots. But when Jessica selected her to be the first to whiz across a
deep expanse of cave on a Flying Fox, she couldn’t help a flash of alarm. “Doesn’t
somebody else want to be first?” she asked nervously.
“Piking out again?” Koti murmured in her ear.
“No.” She glared in his direction in the dark and screwed up
her courage. “OK, I’m ready,” she told Jessica resolutely. But when she grabbed
the handles, she had second thoughts.
“Wait,” she started to say. But it was too late. Suddenly, she
was flying on the long zip line, through the darkness and across the gaping
space beneath. A scream escaped her as she flew and landed with a
whump
against
the tires at the other end.
Koti was across next, putting his legs out to bounce off the
tires with ease. “Think you screamed loud enough? Reckon they heard you in the
next cave.” The light from her headlamp illuminated his annoying grin as he
joined her to wait for the others.
“Shut up,” she muttered. “I went, didn’t I?”
When she found herself jumping, inner tube held to her
backside, ten feet down into an underground river, Kate was determined not to
scream again. A loud squeak made its way out despite her best efforts as she
hit the frigid water and fought to settle herself into her tube and grab the
ropes lining the cavern to keep herself from floating downstream.
“Mice in this cave,” came the voice from behind her.
“Your new girlfriend’s braver than I am,” she told him
crossly. “She likes you better, too. Why don’t you paddle on down and bother
her instead?”
She heard his snort of laughter and decided her best bet was
a dignified silence. She soon forgot about him, though, as they lined up at the
direction of their guides, each person’s feet on the tube of the caver in front
of him. Then turned off their headlamps to see at first a few, then whole constellations
of bright lights appearing on the cave ceiling overhead.
“These points of light you’re seeing are glowworms.
Actually, the larvae of a fly, only found in New Zealand,” Ben’s voice came echoing
back to her. “They shine a light out their backsides to attract insects. And
they’re the reason so many thousands of tourists visit the Waitomo Caves every
year.”
Kate had to agree. If she hadn’t known, she would have
thought she was looking at an expanse of clear night sky, full of stars. The
sensation was disorienting, her sense of space confused by the resemblance.
“And what we do down here,” Ben went on, “since the
acoustics are so choice, is have a bit of a sing. As it’s a Maori cave, we sing
a Maori song. And as we have a Maori with us today, we’ll ask him to sing it.”
Kate cringed. Did they really have to put Koti on the spot
like that? Surely he couldn’t want to sing, not in front of everybody.
To her surprise, Koti spoke up readily. “I could do
Homai
o Ringa,
if you like.”
The hair rose on the back of Kate’s neck as he began to
sing. The haunting melody filled the space around them, rose to the rocky
ceiling above, merged with the sound of the rushing water. Even the chatty
Australians were quiet for a moment as the last slow note died out, until the
entire group burst into spontaneous applause.
“Sweet as,” Jessica said approvingly from behind them.
“Thanks.”
“That was so beautiful,” Kate told him quietly. “So moving
too, even though I didn’t understand it. What was it about?”
“It’s a lament. A love song as well. Asking for comfort when
you’re sad.”
“What do the words say, though? Can you translate?”
“Something like this. Extend your hands to hold my beating heart.
Whisper words of love to lift up my grieving spirit. Give me peace, love me, embrace
me. Give me a tranquil place to shelter on my . . . my difficult journey.”
She shivered. “No wonder, then, that it affected me like
that. The words are beautiful. But the melody was so sad. I had no idea you
could sing like that. Or that you’d be willing to. You surprised me.”
“It’s what we do. We sing for everything. Weddings. Gatherings.
Tangi—funerals, especially. And everything in between.”
“Never met a Maori yet who couldn’t sing,” Ben’s voice came
back cheerfully. “Or who wasn’t willing to, at the drop of a hat.”
“I can’t imagine asking some random person in the U.S. to
sing in front of a group of strangers,” Kate said. “Not without a whole lot of
alcohol, anyway.”
“To be fair, though,” Koti told her, “most Pakeha—kids,
anyway—can sing some of the Maori songs as well. Bet you can, Jessica, if
you’re singing down here every day.”
“A few,” Jessica agreed. “The standard ones. Not like that. We
usually don’t venture much beyond
Pokarekare Ana
. You gave us something
special today.”
“What’s Poke . . . what she said?” Kate asked Koti as they
leaned back to look at the glowworm stars shining brightly overhead.
“Another love song. You’re bound to hear it soon enough, the
first time you go to a Maori concert. It’s lovely, just a bit overexposed by
now.”
“Maybe you’ll sing it for me sometime,” she suggested, still
feeling overwhelmed by the beauty of his voice singing of grief and love, the
sight of the constellations of lights against the blackness, the sound of the
river. “Because I really, really liked that.”
She was relieved when they came to a landing spot and shed
their tubes, shaking her out of her softened mood. The adrenaline-infused
aspect of their day returned with a scramble through the darkness down the now-shallow
river, followed by a final climb up a waterfall that had her heart pumping with
fear as well as exertion. When they finally emerged into the light again, hours
after they had descended, she was shivering with cold and fatigue even in the
thick wetsuit.
“Get in back. Less conversation,” Koti murmured in her ear
as they climbed into the van for the short return trip. Kate sank gratefully
into the back corner of the large vehicle. She didn’t even have the energy to
tease Koti, much less take on aggressive Australians.
“You’re freezing,” he frowned as he saw her shaking. “Don’t get
stroppy, but I need to warm you up a bit.”
She couldn’t help pressing closer as he put both arms around
her and pulled her against him, rubbing his hands vigorously over her back and
arms to get her blood circulating again. She was so cold, she was past caring
whether this was a good idea. His comforting solidity warmed her even through
their wetsuits. And being held against him, she admitted to herself, felt as
good as she’d always thought it would. The envious look she intercepted from Liz,
the Australian blonde, didn’t hurt either. The young woman had been doing her
best to chat Koti up all day, her unfortunate boyfriend clearly relegated to
second place.
Kate knew it wasn’t very nice of her, but she couldn’t suppress
a flash of triumph. Eat your heart out, Blondie, she thought as Koti’s hands
moved over her and she pressed into him. Hope you enjoyed your tour, because
that’s the only one you’re getting today. No close-up of the famous tattoo for
you.
“Got you a cup of tea,” Koti told her when she joined the
group at a table back in the café, where bowls of soup were set out as well to
warm them after their long spell underground.
Kate sipped the hot drink gratefully. “That was a wonderful
experience. But it sure was chilly. I probably used up their entire hot water
supply, I stood under the shower so long. The heat felt so good. How about you?
Weren’t you cold?”
Koti looked at her for a long moment. “Nah,” he smiled down
at her at last. “Not as tiny as you, am I.”