Chapter 13

  A Patupaiarehe Gift

  By the time the truck scooted through Raglan town, everyone was hanging their heads out the windows, savouring the salt taste in the air. Mike parked at the surf club, and he’d scarcely stopped the vehicle before the kids hurtled down the hill and along the black sands.

  ‘Be careful Nat!’ called Mike.

  ‘Okay Dad,’ she yelled, racing towards the ocean.

  Once Nat and Riki had their feet in the water, they stopped to look around. The boys were organising sprinting races, and Mike and Kathleen were collecting shells.

  ‘I know a cool walk not far away,’ said Riki. ‘Wanna check it out?’

  Nat nodded, and they set off across the sands.

  ‘I couldn’t wait for you to get better,’ said Riki. ‘Abraham was really worried about you.’

  Nat was puzzled. ‘He only came to check on me once.’

  Riki looked at Nat. ‘He doesn’t need to be there to see how someone’s doing.’

  ‘He’s pretty special huh?’

  Riki shook her head. ‘He’s more than special. He’s something else. I’ve watched him raise huge stone slabs into the air and move them around – all by lifting one hand.’

  ‘That’s crazy,’ said Nat.

  ‘No,’ said Riki. ‘He’s a powerful tohunga. There aren’t many of them left.’

  ‘And you?’ asked Nat. ‘Can you do some of the same things?’

  ‘Maybe,’ said Riki. ‘That’s why I was sent to Abraham.’

  ‘Where are your parents?’ asked Nat.

  Riki shrugged. ‘Gone.’

  Nat was amazed that a whole world existed beside her own, a world of powers and forces, that she’d never even known about.

  ‘That’s the way we like it,’ said Riki, and it took Nat a moment to realise Riki had plucked her thoughts from mid-air. ‘If people don’t know what we do, they won’t be scared.’ She pointed towards a mamaku fern hanging from a cliff. ‘That’s the start of the track.’

  They headed towards the windswept bush. Under the canopy it was warm and sheltered.

  ‘Abraham asked me to bring you here,’ said Riki. ‘Some friends of ours live around the corner.’

  ‘Cool place to live,’ said Nat.

  Riki grinned. ‘You got that right.’

  The light trickled through the bush like arrows from the sun. As the wind rustled the trees, a kaleidoscope of colour spun before them, making it hard to focus. Nat thought she saw a movement, but when she looked again there was nothing there.

  ‘They’re watching us,’ said Riki. ‘Sometimes people stumble in, not knowing.’

  ‘Knowing what?’

  Riki laughed, and tinkling laughter echoed from the trees around them. Nat’s eyes opened wide, but still she could see nothing.

  ‘Are you ready?’ asked Riki.

  Nat nodded.

  Riki started to sing. The bush seemed to hum along with the song. Reaching for Nat’s hand, she continued up the path. They came to a small clearing, where a few logs rested on the ground.

  ‘Sit here,’ said Riki, and Nat did as she was told. She watched as her friend laid out fern fronds in a circle. ‘They won’t be long.’

  The wind suddenly stopped. Nat was startled by the complete silence of the bush. She couldn’t even hear the breakers crashing on the beach and they hadn’t come that far. Riki smiled.

  ‘That means it all worked,’ she said. ‘The summoning of silence,’ she added, seeing Nat’s question. ‘We have to make it safe for them to show themselves – or who knows what might happen.’ She frowned. ‘It wasn’t always like this, but Abraham says we use the old ways to live in the new world as best we can.’

  Small figures began emerging into the clearing from within the rays of sunlight. Nat couldn’t believe what she was seeing. They were like pixies, light and quick. They’re even smaller than I am, she thought. They were thin, and very pale, with blonde or coppery hair.

  ‘Patupaiarehe,’ said Riki. ‘That’s what we call them.’

  The patupaiarehe stood back, waiting on the edge of the circle Riki had created. Some sat in trees, others crouched in ferns. Nat stared at them, astonished.

  ‘Where do they live?’ she whispered.

  ‘They have always been here,’ said Riki. ‘Beyond the timeline we have been given. There were many two hundred years ago, but now, they find it wisest to remain hidden. They mostly live on sacred mountains.’

  ‘How do we not know?’ asked Nat, amazed that a whole race of people could live under their noses and no-one know about it.

  ‘You don’t look,’ said Riki. ‘Or you look, and see, but your brain tells you it can’t be possible, so it’s cancelled before you look again.’

  A small man stepped forward. He was dressed in clothes woven from leaves. His flax shorts were fastened by a belt wound from supple jack vine. He had light blue eyes.

  ‘Abraham sends you his greetings,’ said Riki. From her pocket, she produced a parcel fastened in a leaf Nat recognised; a rangiora.

  The man accepted the parcel and unwrapped it, revealing a smooth, gray rock, almost perfectly round. He bowed once, man stepped away and melted into the bush. Even though she’d been watching him, Nat couldn’t say at which point he’d faded from view.

  Two more patupaiarehe stepped forward. They were Kathleen’s size, thought Nat, but they were grown women.

  ‘Beware,’ said one. She had long blonde hair, and dark eyes. Her words landed in Nat’s head without a spoken sound. ‘This will keep you safe.’ She held out a small package. ‘There are rules about these creatures, but they do not apply to him. He will bring you good luck, inside and out. He is small, but you can rely on him.’ The parcel was set in Nat’s hands. The touch of the patupaiarehe was like brushing against a length of silk.

  ‘Beware of what?’ asked Riki. The spoken words rattled in the air.

  ‘You have stumbled onto a trail that has driven men mad,’ said the second woman. She was cradling something. Nat realised it was a tiny child, and watched as a miniature hand reached for the mother’s auburn curls.

  ‘You have enough heart to be close,’ said the blonde woman. ‘Keep your sister nearby. She is watching more than you know.’

  The red-headed woman gazed at them. ‘Your question, Nat,’ she said. Nat blinked; she’d asked so many questions as their adventures had unfolded – which one was appropriate now?

  ‘The answer is yes,’ said the woman. ‘They sailed across the sea, and landed on this beach. They were afraid; they were superstitious men, so we watched and followed in silence. Carrying a golden mask high to ward off the evil spirits of their minds, they trekked across the land.

  ‘We sent our birds to fly beside them so they could eat. We sent sunlight to show them the cave entrance, so they could experience the wonder of our sacred world. We watched as they climbed the mountains in the centre of this island, and carved their ways into our rocks. But the terror of their minds made them unable to see – that the moa would not harm them, the Pouakai would not chase them, unless they were chased first.

  ‘We led them across the island and safely over the seas. This was an age ago, so far back only the barest outline exists.’ She looked into Nat’s eyes. ‘They will say it didn’t happen. Do not believe them. Believe your heart.’

  ‘We appreciate your gift,’ said the blonde woman.

  ‘Thank you for your wisdom,’ replied Riki.

  The women smiled a final time and then turned away. As Nat watched, they walked towards the trees, and somewhere in the dappled light, they simply disappeared.

  ‘I’ve never seen them give anyone a present before,’ said Riki.

  Nat opened her hands. The package seemed to quiver. She unhooked the fastening and peeled it open. Inside was a black fantail. As the sunlight fell upon its body, the bird opened its eyes and uttered a small cheep.

  ‘We’ll tell the others it fell out of its nest,’ said Riki. Nat nodded. She
didn’t understand how this little bird was going to keep her safe, but it was an amazing gift.

  Riki nudged her. ‘What are you going to call him?’

  Nat kept walking as she turned a few names round in her head. ‘What about the Maori word for fantail – Piwakawaka?’

  ‘It’s a bit long,’ said Riki. ‘Maybe call him Pi for short.’

  ‘I like it,’ said Nat. ‘Thanks so much for bringing me here. It must be incredible knowing all the things you do.’

  Riki made a face. ‘Sort of,’ she said. ‘It’s like being in two different worlds; sometimes I don’t know which one is more real, or more important.’

  ‘It looks like you’re doing a pretty good job,’ said Nat. They ducked under the trees and walked back to the beach.

  They hadn’t ventured far onto the black sands when there were shouts and the boys ran towards them.

  ‘Where have you been?’ yelled Elijah.

  ‘We’ve been looking everywhere,’ said Barnaby.

  Jack looked puffed. He didn’t say anything, but the three of them were genuinely concerned.

  ‘We’ve been in the bush,’ said Riki. ‘That’s where we found the fantail.’

  Nat held up the bird for the boys to see.

  Elijah glanced at the bird, then frowned at them. ‘What bush?’

  Nat turned around to point it out; the boys had been looking right at it. But her hand fell by her side when she only saw a sheer cliff. There was no bush. She looked at Riki.

  ‘That doesn’t make any sense.’

  ‘Sometimes,’ said Riki, ‘it’s better that way.’ She started walking back towards the surf club. With a shrug, Jack fell in beside her. But Elijah and Barnaby weren’t satisfied with the explanation.

  ‘Honestly Nat, we tore up the beach looking for you guys,’ said Elijah. ‘Your Dad was getting worried – he’s on edge anyway, he doesn’t need this.’

  Nat had no idea how much she was allowed to say, so she walked back to the car in silence, flanked by Barnaby and Elijah. The whole way Pi cheeped and sang, as if to say, ‘I’m here now; I’ll make it all better.’

 
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