Three Times Dead (5 page)

Dad came at the weekend but we didn’t have much to say to each other. Mum filled him in on the progress so far, and they started discussing how they would have to change things around the house to accommodate the wheelchair, when I told them I wasn’t having a wheelchair at all and that I wanted my new leg as soon as possible. I didn’t know whether we had to pay or whether they were on the health system but I knew I wanted to be upright – and quickly. They left, discussing where and how to get in touch with the specialists that they knew.

Mark came on Monday. He brought some books with him.

“I went to the library and asked for books on the New Zealand Wars. I’ve read through some of them and what you’ve described to me seems to be incidents from the Waikato War.” He opened up a marked page in a book called
Landscapes of Conflict
. “The first battle took place on 17th July 1863 at place called Koheroa Ridges.” He turned the book so I could see a map. A cross was marked on it close to the town of Mercer. To me that was just a town we passed on the way to Hamilton. He opened up the larger book called
Two Peoples, One Land
and read from it: “‘As they advanced along the Koheroa Ridges they came under Maori fire but pushed on, driving the enemy at the point of the bayonet from successive positions, and down to the swamp and river.’ Sound familiar?”

I nodded, puzzled.

“What’s interesting,” Mark said as he looked up from the book, “is that the commanding officer was shot in the arm and General Cameron himself led one of the charges. The general was in charge of the British forces invading the Waikato so he should have stayed away from the fight, that’s what generals are supposed to do, or else there’s no one to direct the army.”

I remembered the man on horseback chasing me, or rather Haki, from the slopes down to the swamp and towards the river. Could that have been the general? I shook my head – how could a dream be part of real life? Especially real life that happened ages ago.

“Then there is the attack on a place called Camerontown. The place doesn’t exist now but it was close to Tuakau. It was a storage depot which the Maoris attacked on 7th September. The soldiers came out from Alexandra Redoubt at the top of the hill and there was a running battle; an officer and three men were killed. The Maoris escaped back across the Waikato River.” He looked up. “Are you all right? You’ve gone all pale.”

“I don’t understand. How could I dream about a place that I’ve never been to, I mean, a real place, and actual events that took place ages ago?”

Mark put the books aside. “Bevan,” he said, his voice serious. “Is there any way that you could be Maori? Is there a Maori ancestor in your past?”

I laughed, “with a name like Campbell?”

“Lots of Maori have Pakeha names. My name is Smith, could you get more Pakeha than that?”

“And you’re Maori?”

“Yes, my iwi is up north, I grew up there and came down to Auckland to study theology. I go back regularly to see my whanau and connect with my hapu. You don’t have that?”

“My folks never said anything about whanau, not even when I was at school and we had to find out where we came from. Dad’s dad is from Scotland. Mum said her folks came from Australia. Even if I was Maori, what would that have to do with these dreams?”

“These dreams, visions, it’s as though you are being contacted by your tupuna – your ancestors. It’s the only way I can explain it.”

“Yeah, right,” I said. “I’m sure if I were Maori, I would know.”

“It’s not always the case. A lot of urban Maori don’t know their ancestry, don’t know where they come from, and don’t even know that they are Maori. Over a century ago, you were disadvantaged if you were Maori, and if you could claim European heritage, you did, just to get ahead. In the end, the Maori connection would have been lost as successive generations conveniently forgot they were Maori. You know, at the end of the 19th century, there were many who believed that Maori were a ‘lost race’ – that they would eventually be so assimilated with Europeans that they would simply cease to exist. It might have been the case with your family, that they totally lost their Maori connection.”

“But if what you say is true, why would this be happening to me? Why now?”

“Two things – it’s possible you are in the tribal lands of your ancestors, in the Waikato, closer to where things happened. From your dreams, do you know to which tribe you belong?”

I shook my head. “Me? You mean Haki – I only know that his wife had her baby at Rangiaowhia.”

Mark frowned. “Close to King Country, but from my reading of it, lots of tribes had gathered in the Waikato to protect and support the king. Warriors had even come up from Taranaki, so there’s no way of knowing where your warrior came from.”

“So what’s the second thing?”

“Oh yes, the second is that you almost died, right here in the Waikato, which may have opened a door between this world and the spirit world. Do you remember anything strange that happened at the accident site or when you were here in the hospital?”

I remembered the way Vince’s face had morphed into the old Maori man and how the same man had stood behind the nurse when I crashed. I told Mark this.

“He was here too, standing by the window when I came around.”

“Sounds like a tohunga,” Mark said. “A sort of medicine man,” he explained when I frowned. “He might have facilitated the dreams.”

“But that same old man was in my dream,” I said, suddenly remembering. “He was the tohunga that stood outside the hut when Haki saw his son for the first time. But it’s definitely the same man who stood behind the nurse in ED. But that’s insane! How can he be both here
and
in my dreams? And how can you be calm about all of this – it’s not normal?”

Mark laughed. “I deal with the spirit world all the time and it doesn’t faze me like it does some people.”

“But how can you believe in this stuff about ancestors and stuff and still be tight with Jesus?”

“Jesus is my redeemer, but there’s still place in my faith for my ancestral gods and the beliefs that I grew up with. Because Maori are often more connected with spiritual beings, it’s easier for us to accept the presence of a superhuman parent, God the Father, and his offspring, God the Son. When missionaries talked of the Holy Spirit, I can imagine a lot of our chiefs nodding their heads in agreement, although we have different names for the same thing.” He must have seen me frown for he quickly said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to turn this into a sermon. Have you had any more dreams – anything that can give us a clue as to who Haki is, or was?”

I shook my head. “Since they’ve reduced my dose of painkillers, I’ve not had any more.”

“Well, that might be it then, a door opened and for a while you were able to see into another world, and now that door has closed.” Mark looked sad. “We might never know who Haki was or where he was from or what happened to him.”

“If he existed at all,” I said, just to make him connect with reality.

“I’m sure he did,” Mark said solemnly. “I’ll leave these books here for you to look at. Maybe you’ll have another dream and then you can look it up.”

“Like a doco?” I said and laughed.

“Yes, like a doco” Mark with a grin. “So how are things?”

“A box of bloody birds,” I sneered. “They made me get up out of this bed by taking out the catheter, so unless I want to pee in a plastic tub, I have to get out of bed to go for a piss. The first time I did it, I fell over. Balancing is a bitch. You’d think it would be easy – after all, most people can stand on one foot – but it’s like my half leg weighs a ton and it unbalances me. I hate having to ask the nurses for help every time I want to do something. My leg hurts all the time, especially when I stand as all the blood rushes down and then meets a dead end and it just builds up wondering where on earth it’s supposed to go. Then it throbs like a bitch and I’m now on oral painkillers, which don’t seem to do the job. Then the physios come and torture me with their exercises. Otherwise I’m fine.”

“You sound bitter.”

“I’m angry. My mother says it’s part of the grief process. She has all the answers – did you know she’s a psychologist?”

Mark shook his head.

“I was in denial at first but that didn’t last long – can’t deny the absence of a leg, can you? Sometimes I go through the bargaining phase, usually at night. I lie here and tell God that if he’ll just reverse the clock, I won’t be such a bully. But that’s a laugh because I reckon that God is punishing me for being such a shit.”

“God doesn’t punish.”

“No? Then how do you explain the plagues?”

“That was persuasion.”

“Persuasion … punishment, all the same really.” I looked up as someone came towards my bed. “Here comes Mum. Maybe we can ask her about being Maori.”

“Maori? What’s this about being Maori?” Mum asked.

“I was asking Bevan if he thought he could be Maori,” Mark said.

“Why would you think that?”

I flashed a look at Mark that implored him not to say anything about the dreams.

“We’re just exploring spirituality and origins,” he said.

“Well, I don’t think it’s possible,” Mum said. “My grandfather came from Australia and he never said where his parents come from. Could have been convicts for all I know.”

“I think they had stopped sending out convicts by then,” Mark said with a laugh. “But it’s a pity you don’t know more about your origins. So often our ancestors pass on without imparting the knowledge that they hold. It’s a great treasure that becomes lost.” Mum looked at him funny so he changed tack very quickly. “Anyway it’s nice to see Bevan doing so well. I’ve left him some books to read. I’ll be back next week, if they haven’t discharged him by then.”

He left and I glanced over to the books but was too tired by then to read. What’s more, I needed to pee, which meant ringing the bell for the nurse so she could help get me out of bed. I sighed and pressed the button.

I hated being dependent on others for what should have been private bodily functions, but there was nothing else I could do. And while I did appreciate all that the doctors and nurses were doing for me, I also realized that it was not only the loss of the limb I had to deal with but the side effects from the medicines. I had to take the drugs to make a good recovery but they also made me feel bad. I wanted out of there as soon as I could, but my body was healing too slowly for me. I willed it to hurry up. I even started praying to God to heal me, but He seemed to be out and His secretary was taking messages, because it was another two weeks before I finally left.

Just getting out of the hospital was surreal. I’d been inside for four weeks and the hospital had become my refuge, the ward my cocoon. At least inside the hospital people understood what had happened to me and were there to help me. Outside I was a curiosity, something to be stared at with my amputated leg swinging in mid-air as I lumbered on crutches towards Mum’s car. I was accompanied by a nurse whose job it was to see that I left the hospital with as much dignity as I could. I had already said goodbye to all the nurses and caregivers on the ward who had become my friends – I knew each of them by name – but now that the moment I’d been waiting for had finally come I felt strangely depressed.

Arriving home was stranger still. There were yellow balloons on the letterbox, like people put up for birthday parties. As we pulled up to the house, I saw the banner over the door reading “Welcome home Bevan”. Dad, Katie and Rhys were all there, smiling. I wanted to run away. Run? Ha, that was a joke. Instead I had to haul myself out of the car while Mum held my crutches. I stared at the two steps I had to negotiate to get into the house and hoped I would not make a fool of myself by falling down them. I shrugged off Dad’s helping hand and placed the crutches firmly on the first step before swinging myself up. I got up both without incident, in spite of a few wobbles.

Once inside, I discovered I had been moved. Inside of going upstairs, Dad ushered me towards the rumpus room at the back of the house. There I found my bed and most of my stuff from my upstairs bedroom. I bristled with anger, knowing that they had to have gone through my stuff in order to move it, but by then I was too tired to argue about it. I flopped down on the bed and let the crutches fall to the floor beside me. Mum rushed to pick them up and lean them against the bed.

“We thought it would be easier for you down here at first,” Mum said. “The bathroom is just next door and you won’t have to go up and down the stairs all the time.”

I nodded. I noticed with appreciation that they had left the big TV screen in the room and had brought down my Playstation. It was already plugged in. I guessed that Rhys had done the set-up, as both olds would have been useless at it.

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

“Well, we’ll leave you to get settled,” Dad said. Maybe he understood how awkward I felt right then. “We’re going to have a barbecue on the back deck later. Some of your friends are coming over.”

If anyone heard the groan inside me then no one said anything. Dad carried in my bag from the car and placed it at the bottom of the bed. Both Rhys and Katie said how great it was to have me back home then retreated to the front lounge. Mum brushed my fringe out of my eyes in the way that all mums seem to be trained in, placed a kiss on my forehead and left me in peace.

I lay back on the pillows, lifted my throbbing leg and closed my eyes. If I was going to have to be nice to a whole bunch of people later, then I was going to need all my strength.

Actually, the barbeque wasn’t as bad as I’d thought it was going to be, because not only did Josh and Hayden come but they brought Gina with them. Mitch and Scott came too but spent much of their time in the pool.

Gina looked really fine in her bikini, so fine it almost gave me a hard on, but I fought to keep that under control. I sat in the shade with Hayden who looked pale and gaunt while we swapped stories of bedpans, nurses and endless treatments that made us feel like crap. Having accidents like we’d had reminded us that we were not only mortal, but that we had no shame either; there wasn’t a part of our bodies that had not been stripped bare and prodded. In spite of the fact that I thought Hayden was gay, I decided he was an all right guy.

When Gina came out of the pool and dried herself off next to me, Hayden got the message and went over to speak to Dad, who was on barbecue duties. Gina lay down on the lounger next to mine.

“So what’s next, big boy?’ she asked me.

Big boy? Nervously I glanced down at my crotch to see if that hard on had got away on me, but was relieved so see that nothing showed.

“Um, what do you mean?”

She glanced down at my bandaged stump. “What are they going to do next?”

“Wait for it to heal and shrink a little, then I get a call up from the Artificial Limb Centre. They will fit me with a prosthetic leg.”

“Prosthetic?”

“Artificial leg, so that I will be able to walk like a normal person.”

“Will it look the same as a normal leg?”

“I don’t know. I guess so. I haven’t got that far yet. I’m just keen to get whatever will get me away from these,” I pointed at the crutches. “It’s a pain getting around on them and they get in the way. It’s not natural.”

She looked down at the end of my leg, which had been placed in a cast to keep the swelling down. It was like the white stuff you get when you break your leg, but no one was offering to sign this one.

“Does it hurt?” she asked.

“Sometimes, but they gave me a script for painkillers so I can take those whenever it gets too bad. It might get sore when they put the new leg on. They reckon it’s like learning to walk all over again.”

“Like being a baby.”

“Nothing baby about me,” I protested.

“So I see,” Gina said and smiled as she glanced at my crotch. I looked down and saw that I had lost control of that hard on. I grabbed Gina’s towel and threw it over my hips so the olds wouldn’t see. “Nice to see everything else is still working,” she laughed.

“I’m sorry for pissing you off when you came to visit.” I needed to change the subject in a hurry. “It was the drugs talking. I’d been having these strange dreams, hallucinations really, and they were messing with my mind. They’ve stopped now and I’ve cut back on the drugs so I should be normal again.”

She put her hand on my arm and leaned close. “I think I liked it when you were a little kooky,” she said. “It made life interesting.” Then she kissed me and I knew that only a cold shower would get rid of the bulge in my shorts. Just then Dad called out that the food was cooked. I looked at Gina in a panic.

“I’ll get your food,” she said with a smile. “You stay covered up,” she added with a wink.