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Authors: Célestine Vaite

BOOK: Breadfruit
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“You and the geckos better start living in harmony,” Materena says.

Pito turns off the flashlight and gets into bed.


Oui,
it’s true. I have to fight my fear of geckos,” he says. “I can’t go on checking the ceiling every single night of my life.”

“Ah,
oui alors,
” Materena agrees. It’s daunting going to bed never knowing if you’re going to get woken up in the middle of the night because
there’s a gecko on the ceiling.

Materena is just drifting off when Pito wakes her again to make an announcement. He’s getting himself a tattoo. He’s been
thinking about this for weeks—a tattoo on him—but he wasn’t sure what it should be. Until now.

Materena hopes it’s not a dragon spitting fire—that makes you look like you’ve had a visit to the prison. When Mori had that
green and red dragon spitting fire tattooed on his chest, his mama went crazy. She believed that the dragon made her son look
like he’d had a visit to the prison, which he had, but there was no need to tell the whole population.

There’s no way Materena is letting Pito have a dragon tattooed on him.

“I’m not giving permission for you to have a dragon tattoo,” she says.

“Eh what!” Pito exclaims. “Did I ever talk to you about dragons?”

“Ah, the tattoo is not a dragon?” Materena is relieved.

“I don’t want a dragon,” Pito says. “I’m not Chinese.”

“You don’t need to be Chinese, look at my cousin Mori.”

“Your cousin Mori and I, we’re not the same,” Pito snaps. “And what is this permission business, eh? I don’t need your permission.
When you had that perm, did you ask my permission?
Non.
You went straight to the hairdresser, and when I saw you, I didn’t recognize you, I thought you were a sheep.”

Materena takes a deep breath. “A perm, it’s for a few months. A tattoo, it’s for eternity. What kind of tattoo are you going
to have?”

She hopes it’s not a heart pierced with an arrow. Her cousin James got one of them and it looks ridiculous.

Pito reveals that his tattoo is going to be a gecko.

And Materena thinks, Ah well, maybe the fear of geckos is going to disappear for good once Pito tattoos one of them on his
body.

“And where are you going to put that gecko?” she asks.

Pito’s gecko is going on his thigh, and this doesn’t make sense to Materena.

“What’s the point of having a tattoo if it’s to hide it?”

“My tattoo, it’s not to show off, it’s… it’s . . .” Pito searches for the right words.

Five minutes later: “It’s like my identity.”

Materena slowly nods. She’s going back to sleep, but she’s remembering her godfather Hotu’s tattoo. He has a tattoo on his
right shoulder. It is the name of the woman he loves—Imelda.

Hotu was fifteen years old when he had that tattoo done, and he went to show it off to Imelda. They weren’t together at the
time. Imelda got angry with Hotu. She said, “Ah, now that my name is tattooed on you, I’m forced to accept you.”

Materena wouldn’t mind having her name tattooed on Pito. Right underneath the gecko. There are no reasons why Pito shouldn’t
tattoo my name on his body, Materena thinks. I’m his wife.

“Pito, and my name? Can you tattoo it on you? Next to the gecko?” Materena is caressing Pito’s thigh.

“I’m not tattooing any name on me,” Pito says. “Just my gecko.”

“Fine.” Materena turns her back on Pito. “Maybe you’re going to stop being afraid of geckos once you get one tattooed on you.
But you don’t know, eh? Your tattoo might attract geckos to come your way, crawling up your legs to say hello to their mate,
sleeping on your thigh.”

Materena waits for Pito to yell at her, but he just pulls the quilt over himself.

Brooming

M
aterena is now setting the record straight with Loana about Pito’s totem. It is not a giant dog at all but a gecko. Loana’s
come, as discussed, to share a meal with her daughter, her daughter’s man, and her grandchildren. As Materena gets the baked
chicken out of the oven and calls Pito and the children, she whispers to her mother that it’s best she doesn’t tease Pito
about it.

“Why would I tease him?” Loana snaps. “A totem is a totem! Think before you speak, Materena!”

Okay, Materena can see that her mother is in a slightly snappy mood tonight, so she serves her a nice glass of wine.

Loana and Materena are still at the kitchen table, drinking, with the kids in bed, when Ati makes an appearance.

Ati is Pito’s best friend. Ati used to regularly visit Pito, but recently he got involved in politics. These days Ati is so
busy with Oscar Temaru’s independence party that he doesn’t even have time to look for a woman.

Now, there’s something you must know about Ati.

Ati was crazy about a woman a while ago and there was talk of a church marriage, but Ati’s woman went out dancing at the Zizou
Bar one night and met a legionnaire. Within two months of the meeting and after many secret rendezvous, the pair got married
and flew to France.

Ati only became cranky at the
popa’a
after that episode. They hadn’t bothered him much before.

Ati started to hang around with a few mates outside the Zizou Bar to pick fights with the
militaire.
Pito didn’t participate because he didn’t want to be seen hanging outside that bar.

Ati got in trouble with the gendarmes a few times and then his mama got really cranky at him and made him swear on top of
his dead grandmother’s head to stop picking on the
militaire.

And it was then that Ati discovered politics and joined Oscar Temaru’s independent political party.

The Oscar Temaru political party has organized an independence rally for tomorrow afternoon. They’re all going to grab their
brooms and go sweep the road. The sweeping is supposed to symbolize getting rid of those French
popa’a,
those invaders, those wicked people.

This is the reason Ati is here tonight. When Pito appears from reading his latest Akim comic, Ati asks Pito to be involved
with this very important rally. Pito says, “Mate, I don’t even sweep around the house, and you want me to go and sweep the
bloody road?”

Ati asks Materena, who says, “Ati, you don’t think I do enough sweeping as it is?”

And so Ati asks Loana, because it is his job to get as many sweepers as he can for tomorrow.

Loana looks deep into Ati’s eyes. “Ati, you tell me why I should grab my broom and go sweep the road with you lot tomorrow,
and then I’m going to give you my decision.”

Materena, who is sitting opposite Ati at the kitchen table, makes signs to him to change the subject. It’s not recommended,
talking politics with Loana, especially the politics of independence.

Loana worships Gaston, the president of the territorial government. She queued three times to see him at the Territorial Assembly
sixteen years ago. The first day she got there, it was five thirty in the morning and there were already about twenty-five
people waiting to see Gaston. In those days, if you wanted to see Gaston, you just went to the Territorial Assembly and waited
in line, no appointment was required.

Anyway, Loana didn’t get to see Gaston on the first day. On the second day, she got to the Territorial Assembly at four thirty
in the morning, but again she was too late. So on the third day, she arrived at three o’clock and she was granted a meeting
with Gaston for nine o’clock.

Loana explained to him her trouble, which had to do with a legal bill she couldn’t pay. Gaston got on the phone to his secretary
and the secretary issued a special paper to Loana to give to the lawyer.

And since that day, Loana has worshipped Gaston. She’s even got a few election T-shirts with a picture of her hero on them.

There’s no way she’s going to grab her broom and go sweep the road for Oscar Temaru, even if he is a distant relative—because
she promised herself to remain true to Gaston till her death. And, anyway, Oscar irritates her.

Materena knows talking about Oscar’s party to Loana is only going to end up in a heated argument, and Materena doesn’t want
a heated argument in her kitchen.

She wouldn’t have minded so much if it were the afternoon and they were drinking cordials, but it is nine thirty at night—and
they’ve been drinking lots of cheap red wine.

Ati takes a long slug of his red wine, Loana takes a long sip of her red wine. Materena is still trying to get Ati’s attention,
but he ignores her.

Pito says, “Relax, Materena.”

Ati fires away. “When
pai
France needed patriots during the two World Wars, eh, we volunteered, yes, we volunteered to defend
la patrie,
because that is what you do when
la patrie
needs you—true?”

“Ati,” Loana snaps, “just talk, don’t ask me questions.”


Oui,
I was saying,
la patrie
called out for help and we responded, and by the thousands, but when it was us who called out to
la patrie, la patrie
did the deaf trick on us.”

Ati goes on about how when it was officially announced that Mururoa Atoll was chosen as the nuclear testing base in 1963,
the Polynesian people said no. France told us that Tahiti would play an important role in the project. Again, we said no.
The Port de Papeete would be modernized. No.

Everything would be of great value to Tahiti.
Non—aita! Aita!

According to Ati, we never wanted the bomb. We formed parties to express our discord and anger. And every day more and more
people joined the protest, and more, and more… But one day, President de Gaulle (Ati calls him
titoi
de Gaulle) made use of a twenty-seven-year-old law that “forbade all associations or groups whose aim is to assault the National
Territory.”

Ati puts his head down and sighs. “And these bastards exploded their bomb in our country.” Ati lifts his eyes to the ceiling.
“Our country!”

Another sigh from Ati. “France gave us money to shut our big mouths… and too many of us accepted, and since then we’re
all
foutue.
The whole lot of us.
Foutue.

But.

Ati smiles and explains that he has a vision (which he got from Oscar), and that is to get rid of all the
popa’a
and to live like we used to live, yes, we will plant our own food, we will fish, we will live simply. Happily. Independently.

Ati bangs his fist on the table and gulps more wine.

There’s a long silence and everyone is waiting for Loana to fire back. Materena gets busy putting the flagon of wine away
on top of the fridge.

Loana looks at Ati as if she were a schoolteacher, and he her student. “Ati, your mother, she still cooks for you and she’s
still cleaning up after you,
oui?


Oui,
and… ,” Ati begins, puzzled. “What does my mama have to do with independence?”

Loana gets to her feet. It’s late and she’s going home, but there’s one thing she must tell Ati before she leaves. “Independence,
my arse.”

Loana is gone and Materena clears the table, except for Ati’s glass. Pito, he’s got a beer. Ati and Pito are now talking about
boats and fish, their usual topics of conversation, but Materena knows that when she’s not around, Ati and Pito talk about
women. Well, Ati does the talk about women and Pito listens. It’s late and Materena would like Ati to go home, and so she
grabs the broom and begins to sweep underneath the table. That is the polite way to let people know that they should make
a disappearance. Nobody’s feelings are hurt then. The broom touches Ati’s feet, meaning, can you go now? But Ati lifts his
feet up and smiles at Materena.

“You know what your mother said about me living with my mama,” he says.


Oui,
Ati.” Materena doesn’t sound interested.

“I’m not going to live with my mama for the rest of my life,” Ati continues.

“Good for you,” Materena replies absently. She likes Ati, but she sometimes finds him a bit annoying, with all his stories
about women. At least he doesn’t come around as often as he used to.

“As soon as I find myself a woman”—Ati goes on looking at Materena—“a woman I really care about, I’m going to marry her.”

“Eh what?” Materena is so shocked to hear Ati mention marriage. “You? Married?”


Oui.
As soon as I find the right woman for me,” Ati says.

Pito coughs, and gulps his beer. Materena puts her broom away and sits at the table, facing Ati.

“Are you serious, Ati?” she asks.


Ah oui,
Materena. I want kids, I want my own house. I want a wife.”

Pito shuffles his feet uneasily.

Materena rests her head in her hands and looks at Ati straight in the eyes for a long time. She didn’t know that side of Ati
existed. The Ati she knows is a man who can’t stay with a woman for more than two weeks, a man who doesn’t want kids, a man
who likes to show off his speedboat to Pito. She’s never understood Ati’s popularity with women, as she doesn’t find him that
nice to look at, but tonight, as her eyes meld into Ati’s eyes, she can see why women would throw themselves at him. And she’s
thinking, Eh, he’s not bad-looking at all, Ati. She chuckles inside as she remembers the wink Ati gave her that first day
when he came to the snack with Pito. It is such a long time ago. She was sixteen years old.

“I just have to wait to meet that woman,” Ati says.

“You will meet that woman.” Materena gives Ati a tender smile. “And Pito?” she asks. “Is he going to be the best man?” She
certainly wouldn’t mind Ati being the best man at Pito’s wedding.

“Woman,” Pito snaps, “the way you’re talking, Ati is getting married tomorrow.”

“Pito?” Ati asks. “You want to be the best man at my wedding?”

“What is this?” Pito looks like he can’t believe his ears. He gets up. “I’m going to bed.”

Ati rises to his feet to leave too.

“Ah, come on, Ati,” Materena says. “Stay. You don’t have to go just because Pito is going to bed.”

“It’s okay, Materena, I’m going to my cousin’s house for a birthday party.” Then, looking at Pito: “You want to come too,
or are you going to bed?”

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