CHAPTER NINE: Kaitaia
Rau woke up.
He was lying in his tent, in a black sleeping bag – across from Tristan, who was snoring.
Surprised, Rau shook his head and then remembered: Kaitaia! They had all travelled the night before – and now here they were, in Joshua’s home town, camping.
The tent was stuffy. Rau dragged himself out of his sleeping bag. What time was it? Ten o’clock! Quickly he reached across to unzip the tent door, and crawled out onto the red rug beyond.
The sun was on him. Rau rose to his feet, stretched out his arms, and looked around.
His old silver-green two-man tent sat on flat yellow grass, sandwiched between other tents. Across to the left Rau could see the white office, and a few brown cabins. To his right was a long row of parked campervans. Rau remembered, now: this camping ground was just down the road from Kaitaia Domain.
Rau searched, and found Joshua sitting on a slight grassy hill, under a pine tree – just down from the campervans.
“Good morning,” Rau said.
“Good morning.”
“You’re not at home?”
“I visited my mother last night – she knows I’m staying here with all of you.”
Rau noticed he had changed his clothes – now had black jeans on, full length, with sandals and a T-shirt that said, ‘I love Kaitaia!’
“Where did you sleep?”
Joshua gestured – to the one-man tent next to Rau’s site.
“Oh. Just the clothes on your back.”
“What else do we need?”
Joshua smiled, and Rau studied him. Why was he lingering with this Pakeha? Why hadn’t he returned to Kerikeri early this morning, as expected?
“It’s Sunday,” Rau muttered, half to himself. He wasn’t booked to preach, but had expected to attend.
“Church?” Joshua asked.
“Well, yes.”
“You are a priest.”
Rau searched his gaze. What would Joshua’s response be to his priesthood?
“I am a priest,” Rau said, without shame. “Is it that obvious?”
Joshua’s smile widened. “It is to me.”
“Why?”
“I have a feel for these things.”
Rau frowned. He was actually feeling perplexed by this man – a feeling he had not experienced in a long, long time. Joshua seemed to enjoy avoiding direct questions – maintaining a deliberate sense of mystery. But was there anything else to him? Anything of real substance?
“Stick around,” Joshua said. “See what you think.”
Rau stared at him – and then Tristan was by his side.
“Hey!” Tristan said. “Nice shirt.”
“Thank you,” Joshua said, tipping his head slightly. “Glad you like it.”
“Good fishing at Kaitaia?” Tristan asked. “Still need to beat your record.”
“You tell me.”
Rau watched Tristan smile at the challenge. “Okay,” he said. “Watch this space.”
The others were stirring now, from tents – the four from Ninety Mile Beach, surrounding Joshua. Anahera was there, too – sitting a little apart, quiet and attentive.
Rau cast his eyes back over the campground. Some people were still sleeping, in their tents: resting on Sunday morning. Some were already up, set up on collapsible chairs outside their tents, reading a book. Others were throwing balls to each other, along the lanes. Rau noticed the campground was particularly full. On some sites, two tents had been set up – and a lot of people were pouring out of them.
“Just like Kerikeri,” Rau murmured.
“Busy?” Tristan asked.
“Packed. Not just in the campgrounds, either. Did you see, on the way here?”
“Yeah.”
“Tents in the parks, and along the streets.”
“Something big going down?”
Rau frowned. “People can’t afford rent anymore.”
Joshua stood, and started walking along the lane of campervans.
“What’s he doing?” Rau asked.
“Don’t know,” Tristan replied. “But I’m going to find out.” And Rau watched him wander after Joshua.
Rau trailed behind. Right now, in Kerikeri, his congregation would be singing hymns – their Vicar leading them in prayer. Rau instinctively began to hum ‘Amazing Grace,’ though he felt a sense of irony. ‘I once was lost, but now I’m found’? He was feeling an increasing sense of being more lost, the more he followed this man.
Joshua glanced at each campervan as he passed each one. Closest to them on this lane were the best powered campsites – plush with pines and pohutukawa, they were the larger sites, more expensive, with large new, mostly hired vans. Rau had never used one. Joshua paused for a moment, looking at one particular van – the largest, the family still within. Then he moved on.
Around a corner, to the left, was a more hidden lane – much smaller sites, a few weeds, and old campervans: permanent residents. Joshua stopped here, looked around, and then saw something.
“Over here!” he said – and guided his friends to a picnic area. “Let’s have some food.”
“Great idea!” Tristan said. “What are we having?”
“Brunch,” Joshua said – and now he was looking straight at Rau.
“Brunch?” Rau said, and then he realized. “My fish…”
“What does everyone have?” Joshua asked.
“I’ve got avocado!” Anahera said. “Lots, at home!”
“Go and get it,” Joshua replied.
“Meat?” one of the men asked. “I’ve actually still got beef, fresh from the farm.”
“Go. Bring it back.”
“And bread,” another said. “I have a friend who owns a bakery.”
“I have cheese.”
“Bring it all!” Joshua said. “Bring it all, and let’s have a feast. Time for a barbeque!”
The friends dispersed. Rau wandered toward the campground’s kitchen, and Tristan again was alongside him.
“So what are you bringing, mate?” Rau asked, and Tristan shrugged.
“I don’t know – I don’t have anything.”
“Just in it for the kai?” Rau smiled gently.
“You can talk – you’re only getting the fish he won for you.”
Rau growled – Tristan was too quick off the mark! “I know,” Rau quickly replied, “but isn’t that the same with us all?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Tristan said. “He knows we’re away from home.”
“Each one should bring what he can…” Rau murmured. “This all seems so familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it! He seems like the closest of friends and the strangest of strangers, all at the same time.”
Tristan shrugged. “Why let it bother you? Why not just have a good feed?”
“Because there’s more to life than a good feed, boy! Don’t they give you food in the Army?”
Tristan grumbled next to him, and Rau shook his head. “Sorry,” he said.
“Forget it,” Tristan said. “Let’s just get that fish.”
And he strode quickly into the kitchen.
By the time Rau reached him, Tristan had already wrestled the plastic covered fish out of the large deep freeze unit and onto the floor.
“This thing weighs a ton!” Tristan said. “Gimme a hand!”
Rau bowed down, and lifted the snapper from below.
“No, that’s the heaviest part,” Tristan said. “You’re an old man – let me do it.”
Rau sighed, and let Tristan take the heavier weight. They struggled with the fish, out of the kitchen and toward the barbeque area, sometimes having to put the fish down to warm their freezing hands.
Finally they reached Joshua, and laid the snapper at his feet.
“Done,” Tristan said, and Joshua smiled at him.
“Good work.”
“It’s still frozen,” Rau said.
“So it is.”
“This fish is far too big for just us to eat.?
??
“You’re right.” Joshua’s eyes were now wandering over the entire campground, before returning to Rau. “It is far too big just for us.”
“You mean to feed everyone?”
“Why not? We have too much for ourselves.”
“I…” Rau looked at his face, and then nodded. “I agree.”
The others began to return. Anahera had brought some more ingredients, along with avocado: olive oil and butter, salad leaves and tomato, as well as plates, knives and tongs. The farmer laid down ten pieces of beef steak fillet. Another had laid down ten bottles of wine. Another brought twenty packets of buns.
“Looking good,” Joshua said. “Shall we get started?” And he rubbed his hands together and reached for the tongs.
Rau stood back, and watched as Joshua’s friends all hovered around him and helped prepare the food. Anahera directed a lot of the food preparation, but the farmer joined Joshua barbequing the meat.
Tristan stood over the snapper. “What do I do?”
“Cut some fillets off the thickest part, first.”
“The thing is frozen…” Tristan touched the skin. “No, hang on – it’s starting to thaw.” And he began to cut.
The sun was rising in the sky – it was maybe eleven o’clock when the first fillets were cooked.
“Time for communion…” Rau murmured. Anahera was gathering a bun, and salad and avocado, and a steak and snapper fillet onto a plate.
“Who first?” she asked Joshua, and he pointed to the old campervans nearby.
“There.”
Anahera looked at him, nodded, and then walked over to a campervan. Rau watched her, from a distance. She hesitated and then walked up to the van and knocked on the door.
“What d’ya want?” a man’s voice yelled out. “I’m busy!”
“We have lots of kai!” Anahera said. “And we want to share it!”
The door opened, and a dishevelled older European man stood before her: overgrown grey beard, wearing singlet and shorts.
“Food?” he said. “I haven’t had a decent meal in weeks!”
“Here!” Anahera said, offering the plate. “There’s more over here, too!” And she gestured back toward Joshua and the barbeque.
The man’s eyes moved over their group, and their food – Rau noticed his gaze settle on the wine.
“You got grog?”
“Ae, but…”
“I’m in! Just wait, lassie.” And he disappeared then reappeared, dragging up some trousers, tossing on a shirt and stepping down onto the ground.
Anahera returned to her plates, preparing another – Joshua gestured to another of the old campervans, and she wandered back to the next neighbour. In the meantime, the older man ambled up to Tristan.
“Give us a drink, mate?” he said. Tristan looked over his face – Rau could see his disdain.
“I don’t know,” Tristan said. “You look like you should give it a rest.”
“Wanna put a drink in front of an old man and then stop him?” the man said – and he started pressing in to Tristan.
Rau quickly blocked his way. “Take it easy, mate,” he said. “This one has nothing to do with it. What’s your name?”
“Frank.”
“Where are you from?”
“Where does it look like, joker? I’m stuck here – I’ve been here all my life. Who brought the grog?”
“I did.”
Joshua was behind him. Frank turned to him – looked at him.
“You wanna give an alcoholic a whiff of our quality Kaitaia produce?”
“This wine won’t do anything for you.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
“It’s low alcohol.”
“Yeah, right – not from our vineyards.”
“This wine is special – from my father’s vineyard.”
“Give it to me, and I’ll show you how special it is.”
Joshua held his eyes, smiled slightly – and then handed him a bottle.
“Joshua!” Rau exploded, before he could stop himself.
“Rau,” Joshua calmly replied. “Watch and learn.”
Face full of glee, Frank tore off the foil wrap of the bottle, popped the cork, and took a swig. Then he quickly spat the wine out.
“That’s sh…”
“Highest quality Kaitaia grapes,” Joshua quickly interrupted him.
“To hell with the grapes!”
“Keep drinking.”
Frank took another swig – and then started to scull the whole bottle.
“What the hell is this stuff?” he said, midway through the bottle – dragging his sleeve across his mouth.
“Not what you’re looking for.”
“The grapes…The taste is different. There’s something about them.”
“Good,” Joshua said. “I thought you’d like it. And what about you? What have you got?”
“I’ll show you. Come into my mansion.”
“Okay then.”
And Rau watched Joshua follow Frank into his campervan.
Tristan nudged him cheekily, from the side.
“Whad’ya reckon?” he said. “Think Joshua will try some real home brew?”
“I doubt it,” Rau said, shifting awkwardly.
“I’ll bet that Frank has marijuana growing out of his toilet.”
“You might be right.”
“I might score a joint later.”
Both Rau and Tristan watched the entrance of the campervan for any movement – and Frank emerged first.
He seemed perplexed. Rau watched him closely – what had happened? What had Joshua said? He seemed lost in thought. Then he marched down to the barbeque, and reached for the tongs.
“Step aside,” he said to the farmer. “I’ll show you how to barbe like a real man.”
Joshua emerged from the campervan. He was standing high on the step, looking across the gathering people. Rau was impressed with the numbers Anahera had reached – the growing crowd.
“Amazing what some kai will do,” Rau muttered, and Tristan laughed.
“Kaitaia, eh, mate? ‘Plenty of food’?”
“You’re more intelligent than you look.”
“Whatever.”
Rau’s eyes were on Joshua, still – and now Joshua was looking toward the lane of the expensive campervans.
“Good luck,” Rau muttered under his breath.
Joshua moved forward, received a plate of food from Anahera, and then wandered toward the first large campervan.
He knocked on the door. There was no answer. Joshua knocked again – still no answer.
“Are they away?” Rau asked, but Tristan shifted on his feet beside him.
“No way,” he said. “Just ignoring.”
“But why?”
“They want their space. It’s a big city thing: bloody Aucklanders.”
“Hmmm.”
Joshua paused for a moment, and then wandered to the next campervan. He knocked – there was no answer. He tried again – again no answer.
He turned, and looked straight at Rau – as if contemplating his next move. Then a door opened.
A woman stood there, in her thirties – hair immaculately tied back, brow furrowed.
“What is it?” she asked.
“We have some extra food,” Joshua said. “Would you like some?”
“No thanks,” the woman said. “We have enough food.”
“You are welcome to join us.” He gestured across to their crowd. She glanced across to Rau and Tristan, and then looked back at Joshua.
“No thanks.”
“We have some excellent Kaitaia wine.”
“Is that what this is? Are you selling wine?”
Rau smiled to himself with irony, and watched as Joshua continued.
“No,” he said. “I’d like to give you a bottle as a gift.”
“What for? Are you expecting me to buy a crate later?”
“No – we have enough money.”
The w
oman looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“What do you do?”
“I’m an account– none of your business.”
She looked about to close the door in his face, when a child appeared: a girl, eight, quite beautiful and vivacious.
“Hello!” the girl said.
“Hello!” Joshua said brightly. “What’s your name?”
“Jesse.”
“Wanna play?” Now Joshua looked back at her mother, as Jesse started pleading with her.
“I’m Joshua,” he said. “Join us.”
“Fine,” she said, “just for a short time. I’m Claire. She needs some time out of the van, anyway, but then we’ll need to go to work.”
Claire stepped down out of the van, and hesitantly walked over to the growing crowd.
“Kia ora,” Rau said to her.
“Hello,” she said coolly back. She was wearing a tight knee length skirt, and matching jacket, and walked awkwardly down the unsealed lane with black high heels. Jesse, wearing jeans and T-shirt with sneakers, quickly started running around the crowd and food.
Joshua moved on to the other campervans and knocked on doors. Some doors remained firmly closed. Others opened, and he introduced himself – but no one was interested. Rau heard him wishing each one well – and then Joshua returned to Rau.
“Not much chance getting community out of an Aucklander,” Rau said.
“Over one million people live in Auckland,” Joshua replied. “Think they’re all the same?”
Rau shifted on his feet, silenced – and then Joshua took his place in front of the crowd.
“Kia ora!” he said, raising his voice. “Nice to meet everyone!”
“Great,” Rau heard Claire mutter from nearby. “Here comes the sales pitch.”
“Help yourself to the food,” Joshua said. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”
“Too much like my grandmother,” Tristan said.
“We have wine – enough for everyone, low alcohol and great taste.”
Rau noticed others looking, from around the camping ground: some through windows, others outside their tents. More began to gather in curiosity.
“Now,” Joshua said, “I’m just wondering: how many of you are living in a tent?”
A shout went up – hands went up.
“Living straight off the land,” he said. “Good. How about a campervan?”
Claire didn’t bother to lift her hand, but Frank did with great enthusiasm – and others, who had joined the crowd from his lane.
“And who’s staying in a cabin?” Joshua asked.
A few were joining, from the cabins further away. Anahera gestured them in, and began to offer them food. Claire was grasping Jesse’s hand, seeming about to leave, when Joshua spoke again.
“What do you think?” he asked. “Tent, campervan or cabin – does it really matter, at the end of the day?”
Now Claire looked at him – now she became very still. Surprised, Rau watched her – and saw Joshua notice her attention.
Joshua wandered up to Frank’s campervan – he slapped his hand upon it.
“Which is more important?” he asked. “The box, or the person who lives inside the box?”
Rau glanced quickly at Frank – Joshua had his attention too, now: he held a wine bottle affectionately to his side, but he was sober.
Claire also was looking at Frank – and now her face became cold and hard. Joshua wandered up to the wealthy campervans – he stopped next to Claire’s, and turned to the crowd.
“If I hire this campervan,” he said, “I get a microwave, ultra-high definition digital TV with one hundred and forty channels, blue-ray disc player, and a deluxe shower head. Cream spray and jet stream!”
He gestured toward Frank’s campervan. “While that one down there is rusting with the basics.”
Claire stormed up to him – Rau hovered close behind.
“Get out of my way,” she said through gritted teeth. “My home and my life are none of your business!”
“Keep working like this,” Joshua quietly replied, “and your daughter won’t even know who you are.”
Claire stared at him – Rau saw tears well up in her eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispered, and Joshua’s face softened.
“I do know,” he murmured. “You know it too, Claire. Love doesn’t need all the extra trappings. Don’t sacrifice the cake for the icing.”
She stared at him, suddenly silenced. She looked around herself, suddenly aware of the eyes of the crowd.
“I have to go to work,” she said. “I have to go to work!” And she reached out to grasp Jesse’s hand, and walked quickly down the lane.
“What is it with money?” Joshua cried out, across the crowd. “It promises to be our dearest friend, but then it becomes our harshest master! Is money really what life is all about? What if we spend all our lives trying to get more and more of it: what will we sacrifice on the way?”
The crowd was silent, listening to him. Rau could see they were thinking about Claire – unable to stay to listen: unable to even rest while she was on holiday. Joshua had stopped speaking – and now the people began to murmur to each other. Rau glanced at Tristan, to see him munching on some fruit.
“Did you even hear what he said?” Rau asked, and Tristan shrugged.
“Too much money isn’t exactly my problem.”
Rau smirked. “True. And yet…” He gestured to others in the crowd. “He seemed to reach them.”
Joshua joined him, and Rau pulled him aside.
“You question money, Joshua?” he said. “You – a Pakeha?”
“Does my skin colour matter?”
“Your people hunger and thirst after money – that has always been the white man’s way.”
“You’re wrong, Rau Petera – my people were not always this way.”
Rau was struck by his brown eyes, now – a new intensity.
“And what is it with colour?” he asked. “We’re all human, aren’t we? Aren’t we all brothers and sisters? Same vulnerabilities? Same needs? Same weaknesses?”
Rau frowned – suddenly aware of the state of his own heart.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t realize…”
“It doesn’t matter,” Joshua said. “Rich, poor, Pakeha, Maori, from Auckland or Kaitaia – we’re all in the same boat: the same waka.”
“You’re right,” Rau said. “One massive waka. The past…”
“Shouldn’t have happened the way that it did.”
“No. But the British – they didn’t realize what they were doing.”
“No, Rau – they did not. Just as the Maori didn’t realize it, until it was too late. We all lost our way. Time to find it again.”
Rau lingered on his face.
“I feel,” he said, “something changing within me.”
Joshua’s smile was radiant. “Good.”
“Brothers and sisters,” Rau said, “ae! Brothers and sisters.”
“Different, and yet together as one.”
Joshua wandered past Rau, now – and began to talk with some of the newcomers. Rau watched him for a while – and then wandered up after him, to introduce himself to another.
A young Maori man stood before him – muscular, with the black spiral koru moko of Tainui tattooed on his face and shoulders.
“Kia ora,” the man said.
“Kia ora,” Rau replied.
“I am Tane, of Tainui – from Waikato.”
Rau raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I am Rau, of Ngapuhi, from Kerikeri. What brings you here?”
“I am visiting whanau.”
“Have you had some kai?”
“Ae. Quite a feed you have here.”
“Ae.”
“And who is this man who speaks so boldly?”
Rau smiled quietly. “Joshua Davidson is his name.”
“I like his words. They are very…”
“Maori?”
&n
bsp; “Yes.”
“And yet, not only Maori.”
“He is a leader – not like the usual Pakeha leaders.”
“Perhaps.”
“I would like to hear more from him.”
Rau looked at him. “Then join us.”
Tane glanced at Joshua, and then turned back to Rau. Now Rau grasped his hand.
“Join us.”
Tane’s dark brown eyes held his. “All right, Ngapuhi Kaumatua,” he said, “I accept.”
Rau pressed his forehead and nose to him, in a hongi, and Tane responded – then he wandered back away into the crowd.