CHAPTER TWENTY: Takapuna
Rachel sat on the grass, at Takapuna Beach.
She was on the edge of the bank, her legs dangling over: her feet just about touching the water below. It was high tide.
Behind her, on the grassy bank, under plush pohutukawa trees, thousands had gathered around Joshua. Rachel knew the reporters were there, also: New Zealand reporters, and also international.
In front of her, the ocean sparkled. Rangitoto was beyond: the dormant volcanic cone laden with the biggest pohutukawa forest in the world. Pohutukawa – the New Zealand Christmas tree. The bright red spindle blossoms were still out, set against the olive green oval leaves – they were here, in Takapuna, and Rachel thought she could make out a little red amongst the deeper green of Rangitoto.
The sun was high in the deep blue sky – it was a beautiful, warm summer day.
For a moment she glanced again at her cell-phone. ‘Keep me posted,’ her father had said. What was he on about? ‘Dangerous’? Why was he afraid? One thing was sure – she wasn’t about to keep reporting to him, like an agent. No need, anyway: the media were already everywhere.
She quickly put the phone away, and eyed the water at her feet. Now she tentatively dunked in a toe.
“Don’t be afraid,” Joshua’s voice said, drifting over her from behind. “Hard times are coming – but they are only the beginning of something brand new, and fresh. They might hurt! Like a mother hurts, when she is giving birth: she pushes, and pushes, and strains! But then comes the brand new baby! A wonder! A miracle. Joy comes in the morning, like the blossoming of the pohutukawa…”
Rachel’s vision misted, for a moment. Childbirth. Then she turned, to look at Joshua. He was standing on the bank, quite high up – his voice was carrying easily. The people were standing, or sitting, or lying on the grass – some looked like they were sunbathing: eyes closed, arms and legs stretched out. Children were running around, darting between people, playing.
“A new time is coming,” Joshua said, “when there will be no more pain, or suffering, or grief – no more hunger, or sickness, or war…”
Rachel’s eyes found Tristan, now, in the crowd. He was standing very still, in front of Joshua: he was listening carefully.
“There will be no need to fight anymore,” Joshua said. “No need to struggle on. There will be peace – real, full, complete peace.”
Rau was standing, near Tristan – his face radiant, as usual.
“That new season is coming,” Joshua said. “It won’t be long. But to reach it, we must learn to fight in a different way. Not with fists, or physical weapons: not against an enemy out there – an enemy who is really our neighbour. No, we must learn to fight the true enemy: the shrewdest combatant. We must learn to overcome the voice of evil in our own hearts.”
Rachel tilted her head, pondering him. The voice of evil? Our own hearts?
“There are different kinds of fighting,” Joshua continued, “just as there are different kinds of love. There are different kinds of allies along the way. Some allies provide weapons of warfare for the fight. Some provide soldiers. Some allies provide strength, beyond our own strength – knowledge, beyond our own knowledge. Some allies are so strong, in the war that our only course of action is to join them – to become one, in the fight, with them.”
John was standing there, next to Joshua – Rachel suddenly saw him. He was standing very close to him – almost touching him.
“There is one Ally,” Joshua said, “who is much greater than the rest: one Ally who can overcome the grip of the enemy, as surely as a tsunami wipes out everything in its path. What will happen, when that Ally comes? What will happen, when the flood comes?
“Every soldier needs to listen to his commanding officer, for the time when the ultimate weapon is dropped. Every soldier needs to take shelter, to survive while the enemy is taken.”
Now Joshua paused – and then he continued.
“Who is that great Ally?” he asked. “That is the question we all must answer. When is the flood coming? No-one knows but the Ally himself. Where is the shelter to hide?”
He paused again, and fixed his eyes on John.
“That shelter,” he said, “is me.”
Muttering started in the crowd. Joshua himself was a shelter? How could a man be a shelter for a flood? Rachel heard the people starting to argue a little, amongst themselves.
“I don’t get it,” a young man said, close to her. “What’s he talking about?”
“A tsunami!” a woman said, opposite him. “There must be a tsunami coming! We should get away from the coast!”
Rachel looked down at her feet, dipped in the sea. The water was calm, and unmoving. A light sea breeze lifted her hair a little from her face. No – he wasn’t talking about a literal tsunami: she was certain of that. But what about his talk of war? Wasn’t that a little dangerous, in these tenuous times?
She glanced again to the reporters – the cameras, filming him. Had he meant a literal war? A literal weapon? She didn’t think so. But what might others think? Surely he knew the potency of his analogies – surely he knew what the impact might be of his words…
Joshua’s eyes were moving over the crowd – and now Tane stepped forward.
“You are our shelter,” Tane said. “Our safety, for the storms ahead.”
“I am,” Joshua said.
“Then we will follow you!” Tane said. “You are our Leader – you are our Great Ally.”
And he broke into a Maori karakia.
A few other Maori gathered around him, men and women. Tane was leading them – and now they began a waiata: they sang to Joshua, and Joshua, and the entire crowd, listened. People began to rise to their feet.
Rachel watched them, and her vision misted again. She shook the water off her toes, and rose to her feet. Aotearoa, New Zealand! Maori and Pakeha as one! This was her home.
The waiata, soaring, and deep, came to an end. Then Joshua, in traditional response, began to sing.
Rachel stared at him, astonished. He was singing their National Anthem! [7]
“E Ihowā Atua,
O ngā iwi mātou rā
Āta whakarangona;
Me aroha noa
Kia hua ko te pai;
Kia tau tō atawhai;
Manaakitia mai
Aotearoa”
What was going to happen to them? What would become of little old New Zealand, in the much bigger world scene? With Joshua, in that moment, everyone began to feel safe.
“God of Nations, at thy feet,” he sang,
“In the bonds of love we meet,
Hear our voices, we entreat,
God defend our free land.”
Voices joined in, now – thousands of voices, as one, with Joshua.
“Guard Pacific’s triple star,
From the shafts of strife and war
Make her praises heard afar,
God defend New Zealand!”
The song had become a prayer – the voices, lifted up, had become united.
With tears, Rachel trembled. What was happening, all around her? A new hope! A new passion! Joshua continued the National Anthem – he knew all the words, and the people followed him.
“Men of every creed and race,
Gather here before Thy face,
Asking thee to bless this place,
God defend our free land.
“From dissension, envy, hate,
And corruption guard our state.
Make our country good and great,
God defend New Zealand.”
Then, when it was finished, a cheer went up – a loud, sustained shout of joy.
God defend New Zealand.
Something had changed, in that moment: Rachel felt it. Something had changed – and now there was no going back.
Tane and the Maori group gathered now tightly around Joshua – Joshua pressed foreheads and noses, exchanging a Maori hongi with them all. Others then flooded after them to Joshua – Pakeha European,
Pacific Islander, Asian, Middle Eastern: people from all over. They loved him – maybe they even worshiped him. Rachel had never seen anything like it.
And the cameras were there, as well. Set back a little, watching: the World.
Rachel swallowed. What would happen to little old New Zealand? What would happen?
Rachel hesitated – but then she moved. She didn’t want to be on the outside, anymore: outside of the circle of the cameras, watching. She was a part of this movement – she was safe, within it.
Quickly she joined the people – and moved in closer, to be with Joshua.