The Lost Tohunga (6 page)

He let that pass. ‘This is going to sound really weird,' he said, ‘but I saw you yesterday afternoon, and …'

He was going to say ‘You looked sad. Is there anything I can do?' but something happened to his words on the way out of his mouth, and what he found himself saying was: ‘ … I dreamt of you last night.'

Oh, for Chrissake!
He turned scarlet and tried to sink into the ground. He stared at the grass between his feet and waited for her to laugh at him and tell him to get lost.

Sunday

D
éjà vu
, Hine thought as she threw up over the toilet floor. She couldn't remember anything about the party except that there had been truckloads of drinking. Now she couldn't stand up and her stomach felt like an eel farm. Even the dim light in the hall was enough to set off shafts of white noise in her skull.

She struggled to the basin and splashed cold water over her face. Her body was starting to voice some really loud complaints. The stomach was the worst, but she had painful welts all over, too. She wanted to curl up and die, but not here. She reeled into the lounge, grabbed that old hoodie of Ko's, some cash and sunnies, and crept out the front door.

It felt like the world was spinning, but she managed to steady herself.
Come on, you loser!
She fumbled the gate latch open and set off down the road towards the nearest petrol station. Although the petrol fumes on the forecourt made her want to chuck all over again, she managed to order a coffee and doughnut to go. She cradled the coffee like a newborn baby as she nursed herself to the lakefront. Her watch said quarter to twelve. The wind was easing and the sun was trying
to break through; she hoped it failed. She found a tree, and lay against it, sipping the coffee. The doughnut could wait till her stomach settled.

This is killing me.

The night before, Evan had laughed loudly and praised up Deano, who was a nice kid, long may he remain so. No doubt Deano was headed down the same path as the rest of them, though. Anyone who fell in with Evan ended up dead, in prison, or trapped on Loser Street. He had also thrashed her, but still had the gall to act like everything was sweetness and light afterwards. His friends all thought he was so cool. He had joshed with the guys, all matey, but if one of them got too close to her, she could feel his eyes lasering through her.

I used to think girls who stayed with guys who beat them were pathetic. Now I'm one of them. Different perspective, huh!

I gotta get out.

I've gotta go where he can't follow.

God knows where that might be.
The only folks she knew here were Evan's mates. None of her rellies believed her about Glenn Bale. No-one would take her side.

There had been a girl that had run out on Brutal, and word had it she had gone to Auckland but ended up on the streets.
If I don't do this right, that'll be me.

It was too much to think about, and she was too tired. So she set her head against the tree, and blanked out everything. Despite the caffeine and the sugar, sleep came like a rising tide, and pulled her under.

 

She started awake. She looked at her watch:
Jaysus!
Quarter to four! But she felt so much better … the gnawing in her stomach had settled, and she wolfed the doughnut in three big bites. It was sickly sweet and vaguely unpleasant, but she felt better for it. She caught a whiff of herself:
like a ciggie stubbed out in a puddle of beer
. She felt utterly wretched.

She was suddenly aware of scrutiny. A young guy was standing nearby, watching her. She realized it was the same kid who had seen her crying the day before. She lifted her shades and jerked her eyes about, scared that Evan might be around, but no — tourists and all sorts were everywhere, but no-one she knew. It was as if she and the young guy were totally alone.

‘Hi', the guy said hesitantly. ‘I'm Mat. Well, Matiu actually,' he added.

She considered ignoring him, or telling him to get lost. But instead, found herself drawling offhandedly, ‘Matiu? Picked you as Pakeha.' She puffed her half-forgotten ciggie to buy some time. He must be only part-Maori, with his paler skin, and that reddish hair must come from that mother of his. He was kind of cute, in an over-serious way.
Maybe he's a bloody Mormon, trying to save the sinner
.

He looked at her intensely. ‘This is going to sound really weird, but I saw you yesterday afternoon, and …'

She waited.
Here we go
…
Is he a Jesus-freak or just chatting me up?

‘… I dreamt of you last night.' Then he seemed to realize how disastrous he sounded, and went redder than a Santa suit.

She was suddenly cross to have wasted even a second of her life on him. ‘Yeah? Piss off, kid.'

He took a step back. ‘Yeah, look, sorry, I deserve that. Sorry to intrude …' He seemed to be berating himself silently.

She turned away, when suddenly the black-and-white sheepdog from yesterday came up and nuzzled the boy affectionately. She stared. ‘Hey, is that your dog?'

‘Yeah, this is God,' the boy told her, ruffling his fur.

‘God?'
Definitely a Mormon!

He grinned. ‘It's short for Godfrey. He's a friend of mine.'

She felt herself unbend a little. ‘He's everyone's friend, kid. He was all over me yesterday.'

‘So, aren't you going to introduce us, Godfrey?'

She smiled at him suddenly, feeling an unexpected liking. He's just an ordinary kid. He was respecting her, and didn't have a dirty mind.
How long since I met someone nice?
She had to look away again, to compose herself. Then she stared.
Oh, shit!

Evan was striding across the grass towards her, with Brutal and Ronnie at his heels. She leapt to her feet and hissed ‘Run, kid! Run now!'

But the boy didn't run. He set his jaw and stepped forward instead.

Heads turned towards them and then the crowd on the foreshore seemed to melt into a circle of bystanders, not wanting to get involved — or miss a moment. Hine felt that ‘aquaplaning-towards-a-power-pole' sensation she got when trouble was inevitable.

Brutal was snarling something, but Evan didn't say a word. His face looked like a gestating murder. He towered over Mat, his tattooed shoulders muscled like the flanks of a racehorse and his chest straining his tank top. He bared his
teeth, cradling his right fist in his left hand.

Ronnie dragged Hine aside. ‘What are you doing, Hine? Evan hates you talkin' to other guys.' His pudgy face was torn between concern for her and eagerness to help Evan.

‘We were just talking,' she told him, straining at his grip. She yelled at Evan. ‘We were just talking!'

Evan didn't listen, just eyeballed Mat, who stood his ground, his face pale but not overly scared. Brutal was circling on the far side, his teeth bared. He looked about to thump his chest like a gorilla. Ronnie gripped her shoulders. ‘Go home, Hine. This is between him and us now.'

Evan said something in a low voice, and Mat answered him back in similar tones, his face calm despite his pallor. A tall blond man yelled ‘What is happening?' in a foreign accent, and pushed through the circle of onlookers. He tried to brush past Brutal, who shoved him back and squared up.

Evan put his left hand on Mat's chest and snarled something, a knuckle-duster gleaming on his right fist. He spat in Mat's face, then pushed him. Mat staggered, and visibly restrained himself, as though he was doing Evan a favour by not hitting him. Hine marvelled at his stupidity, and was suddenly terrified he would get knifed for his bravado. She pulled out of Ronnie's grip. ‘Evan, he didn't touch me! We were just talking! Let him be!' She lurched towards him, off balance. ‘Evan!'

The air turned to water, and she was swimming through it in slo-mo as Evan's right hand swung up, back-handed, and his fist connected. ‘Shut up, bitch,' he said, without even looking at her. Light exploded inside her head. She fell backwards, arms flailing, until her skull smacked the hard ground, and
she lay dazed as everything unfolded about her.

The blond man tried to push past Brutal, who punched him in the head. Mat tried to step towards her, his eyes leaving Evan for a crucial second, but Evan's left hand snagged his collar, and his right fist bunched, knuckle-duster glinting. Mat's shirt tore as he twisted under the blow, kicking out at Evan's knee in the same motion. He might as well have tried to kick a telephone pole. Evan grunted, and then launched a kick of his own into Mat's ribs as he tried to pull away. It connected and Mat doubled over.

Ronnie loomed over her. ‘Hine, you okay?' he asked, blinking stupidly. She felt a hot sting on her torn cheek and tasted blood in her mouth. She tried to speak but couldn't remember how. Sirens blared from the direction of the shopping precinct half a kilometre away. Ronnie looked up, and then flung himself in the way of a long-haired youth who had launched himself at Brutal. All three went down in a rolling, flailing flurry.

She sat up, her vision swirling. Evan followed Mat and kicked again, but this time Mat rolled aside, and sprang to his feet, moving like an athlete. Evan's fists flailed, but Mat ducked away. Beside them, the blond man cried out and fell to his knees, clutching his face. Brutal spun and surged toward Mat from the other side. Someone in the crowd yelled ‘Watch out, kid!' and Mat glanced just in time as Brutal closed in, arms spread. He dropped low and kicked out. His sandshoes connected with Brutal's groin, and the big man grunted and fell towards Mat like a toppled building. His big hand fastened on to Mat's jeans, pinning him tight. Evan closed the distance and smashed another boot into the small
of Mat's back, connecting solidly. Mat's body arched as if he had been shot.

Hine tried to stand, but a middle-aged woman with a sunburnt face grabbed her. ‘Stay down, girl. They aren't going to stop for you.'

Evan kicked Mat again, and again, while Brutal got to his feet. He roared and lifted a huge boot, poised to stamp down on Mat's midriff as the boy writhed beneath him. Suddenly a black-and-white dog erupted out of the crowd, and sank its teeth into Brutal's leg. The big man howled and toppled. The dog, Godfrey, Hine realized, darted away and showed his teeth.

The sirens blared louder now, and tyres screeched on the road. Ronnie stiff-armed the long-haired youth, clambered upright and grabbed Evan's shoulder. ‘Cops!' he yelled. Evan glanced back, then down at her. ‘Come on, let's go!' he yelled at her.

She sat there, utterly numb. The face she had kissed, the man she had given herself to, the devil she had sold her soul to, demanded her obedience. Her body moved to obey, but the woman holding her didn't let go. ‘Stay here, girl. Don't go with that animal.'

‘Get up, Hine!' Evan took two steps towards her and reached down.

The woman holding her looked up defiantly. ‘You stay away from her,' she snapped, like a school teacher. Hine was frightened Evan would deck her too, but then he looked towards the cop cars, and backed away. He pointed his finger at them both.

‘I won't forget this,' Evan told the woman, then looked
down at Hine. ‘See you soon, Hine. See you at
home
.' Then he turned and ran, Ronnie and Brutal pelting at his heels. A huge Alsatian swept past, and Godfrey seemed to yip advice to it. Light-blue uniforms filled the lawn around her.

Evan and the others fled along the lakefront. Four cops were sprinting after them, and, as she watched, the Alsatian brought down Brutal in a flurry of limbs. Blue shirts dived onto him, and the police dog surged on again, past Ronnie who had turned to see what had happened and then thrown up his hands in a gesture of surrender. The Alsatian closed in on Evan. At the last moment, Evan stopped and turned. The dog stopped also, and circled behind him. He raised his hands in surrender also, too cunning to resist arrest.

A policewoman fell to one knee beside Hine. ‘What happened here? Are you okay?'

Hine took a deep breath, suddenly feeling that this moment was crucial. She felt her nerve cracking. If she lied or said nothing, Evan would probably get away with it again, and then he would beat her, and punish her, and life would go on. But at least it was a life she knew.

‘Those guys …' Hine waved her hand towards where Evan was being cuffed, along with Brutal and Ronnie, ‘…they attacked him.' She pointed to where Mat lay, a medic kneeling beside him. More medics were tending the blond foreign guy and his mate, who both looked pretty bad.

‘Why did they do that?'

She hung her head. ‘For talking to me.' She looked up at the policewoman, hating the pity she saw there. ‘Because Evan, the bearded guy, he's my man.' She looked at the ground. ‘It was my fault.'

The sunburnt woman let her breath out and shook her head. She and the cop exchanged glances. ‘What's your name?' the cop asked.

‘Hine.'

The woman looked Hine over, taking in her bleeding cheek. ‘Did Evan hit you, Hine?'

She turned her cheek away, and didn't answer.

The cop touched her shoulder. ‘I'm Police Constable Robyn Partridge. We need you to come down to the station and make a statement. And then I'd like you to come with me to the refuge. Just for the night, so you can think things over. Okay?'

Godfrey was looking at her with big soulful eyes, and he trotted up and licked her bloody cheek. It stung, and she shoved him away, but her cheek felt better immediately, as if he had wiped it with anaesthetic. She reached out and cuddled him. ‘I'll be okay,' she told them. ‘I don't need no refuge.'

Godfrey whined mournfully at her.

 

Taupo Police Station was on Story Place, behind the Rose Gardens. The police loaded Evan, Brutal and Ronnie in a van, but they took Hine in a cop car. She wished Godfrey was there, but they wouldn't let him come in the car. He had wagged his tail and darted away, as if on a mission.

They took her through reception and down a corridor, past the holding cells, to an interview room. The closest cell was empty except for a dishevelled tramp, whose eyes followed her as she walked past. Although he looked like a broken old man, there was something malevolent about him. His reek reached her through the open doorway, and he smacked his
lips as he watched her walk past. Shadows clung to him, as though light refused to come too close.