Three Times Dead (9 page)

Haki wiped away the tear that slid down Reka’s face.

“I’ll come back to you,” he promised. He looked down at the sleeping child in her arms and bent down to kiss his forehead. The baby stirred but didn’t wake.

“Are you sure you are healed?” she asked.

“You cannot keep me another day,” he said. “I have lain here for two months now and it is time that I go to Paterangi and defend it against the soldiers. They are coming closer now and we must stop them from reaching this village.”

“Are you sure that you are able to fight?” Reka said.

“Don’t twist my words, woman. I am no longer the baby I was when I arrived here. I have all I need to fight.”

“No, you don’t,” said a strong male voice. Haki looked up to see Piripi, Reka’s grandfather, walking towards him, a feather cloak over his shoulders. “You are missing a mere.”

“I don’t have a mere,” Haki said. “I lost my patu at Meremere. I will have to do without.”

“You can have mine,” Piripi said as he slid his arm out from beneath his cloak to reveal the greenstone mere.

Haki gasped and shook his head. “No, sir, I cannot take it – it is sacred.”

Piripi whirled the mere in front of him as though he were a young warrior preparing for battle. “This mere has killed many enemies and now we face the strongest enemy of all. It wants to fight but I cannot carry it to the battle. You, Haki, must carry it there so it can once again kill many of our enemies. It would be an honour if you did so.” He held it out to Haki, the mere resting on both his outstretched palms.

Haki stepped forward and picked it up reverently, feeling the warmth and strength of it in his hands.

“Thank you, Piripi, I am honoured to carry this mere and I will recount to you the lives that it has taken when I return.”

“I expect no less,” Piripi said, then turned and walked back to his whare.

Haki tucked the mere into his belt and took Reka in his arms, crushing the baby between them. He kissed her first and then the child, while behind them he heard the women begin a waiatia, wishing him well for his journey and success in battle.

He kissed Reka again then turned to jog towards Matiu who waited in the trees. Haki turned back to look once more at the village with Reka standing outside the wooden church, the village of Rangiaowhia lying in the hollow behind her, and then, together with Matiu, took off towards the north, towards Paterangi.

The waiatia dissolved into a melodic electronic sound. I struggled to recognize it, aware that I should be able to – but the knowledge escaped me. The sound was foreign to my ears.

I opened my eyes – darkness, except for a pulsating light to my left: my phone. I reached over, picked it up and looked at the screen. It was Mum.

“Hello?” I said quietly so as not to wake Gina, who appeared to be asleep.

“Bevan, where are you? It’s after one o’clock. I’ve been worried about you.”

Gina stirred beside me.

“I’m at Gina’s. She’s … er … not feeling well. I’m going to stay here tonight and take her to the doctor’s first thing in the morning.”

“Oh dear, I hope it’s nothing serious.”

“We’ll know tomorrow,” I said.

“Well, as long as you’re safe. Let me know how you get on at the doctor’s.”

“I will. Goodnight, Mum. Don’t worry.”

I ended the call.

“Who was it?’ Gina asked.

“My mum.”

“I wish my mum would worry about me like your mum does.”

“She’s a bit over the top sometimes, especially since the accident.”

“Better than nothing at all.”

I kissed the top of her head. “Go back to sleep.”

She did, but I didn’t. I was disturbed by the dream – the old man that Haki knew as Piripi had been the old man that had appeared to me at the crash site. The knowledge unnerved me. When I had seen him in the hospital – whether he was a vision or a ghost, I didn’t know – he had said his name was Piripi and that he was my grandfather. But he was also Reka’s grandfather. It didn’t make sense.

I looked down at Gina. If she was pregnant, I would have to clean up my act – cut out the dope and the booze, and the cruising. For a moment I felt resentment: I had got used to that kind of life and I couldn’t imagine being clean. But I’d do it for Gina, and for our child, just like Haki had gone to war for Reka and Toa. I’d get a job and support her. Maybe we could get our own place so we didn’t have to bunk with her flatmates, or stay at my place. I knew it was going to be tough, but we’d be ok, or so I thought.

Eventually I drifted back into a dreamless sleep.

The first ominous signs occurred in the morning. Gina had no sooner opened her eyes than she was out of bed in a flash and vomiting in the toilet next door. She sounded terrible. I sat up in bed and leaned over for my foot, fitting it on as quickly as I could before getting up to knock on the bathroom door.

“Are you ok?” I shouted.

“Go away,” was the only reply I got. I went into the kitchen and put the kettle on. Mum always used to make tea when someone was sick. I don’t know why she did that, but I thought I had to do something so that’s exactly what I did. Gina eventually came out and sat down heavily at the table.

“Here,” I said, pushing the cup of tea towards her. She took one look at it and headed for the bathroom.

It was a while before we could get out of the house, into the car and down to the A&E. Gina took a plastic container with her but she didn’t throw up any more while we waited.

“You’ll need to go for a blood test,” the doctor said when we explained why we were there. He started to fill out a form.

“Can’t you tell us now?” I asked

“Sorry, only a blood test will confirm.”

“But the stick turned blue,” Gina said.

“It has been known for them to return false positive, so it’s best to check.”

“How long before we know for sure?”

“About two or three days, depending on how busy the lab is. It’s early, so if you go right now, you might get the results tomorrow.”

“Can you give her anything for the nausea?” I asked.

“It’s best not to take anything, just in case. The best thing she can do is eat something. A dry biscuit works best, I believe.”

The lab was in the same building, so we took in the form and I sat with Gina while they took the blood, then we went in search of food. Funnily enough Gina came right after a few hotcakes from the nearest takeaway, and even started to smile.

We spent the day together. It made a change from sitting in front of the Playstation or cruising around with Mitch and Scott looking for trouble.

“Just a stomach bug,” I said to Mum as we sat at the dinner table that night. Mum looked over at Gina who was eagerly eating all that was on her plate.

“Well, it looks like it’s over now, whatever it was,” Mum said.

“Yes, she’s better now.” I didn’t know what she would be like in the morning though. I drove Gina home and we kissed in the car.

“Do you love me?” she asked.

“Course I do.”

She seemed satisfied with the answer.

“Are you going to work tomorrow?” I asked.

“I’d better or else I won’t have anything to pay the rent with. I’ll phone you from work if I hear anything.”

“Ok, let me know.”

We kissed again and then she got out of the car and walked towards the front door. Before she put her key in the lock, she turned and blew me a kiss.

She phoned the next day, late in the afternoon, in tears.

“It’s positive – I’m pregnant!”

“I’ll come pick you up,” I said.

We told my parents first. They were a bit stunned but Mum recovered quickly, trying to make a joke of it. “So it wasn’t a stomach bug.”

“So what are you going to do now?” asked Dad, always the practical one.

“I’ll have to get a job.”

“You’ve no qualifications.”

“I’ll find something,” I said. I was naïve back then.

“Well, this is not what we had planned for you,” Mum said with a sigh. “But it’s nice to see you so happy after …”

She halted. I knew what she meant.

It was Gina’s mother’s reaction that astounded me. Gina and her Mum had never really got on, and I saw why. We sat in her flat in the city and Gina told her. She exploded immediately, turning her anger towards me.

“Could you not keep it in your bloody pants?”

“Hey, it takes two to make a baby.”

“So you’re saying this is all Gina’s fault?”

“Who said it had to be anyone’s fault? We’re going to have a baby, what’s wrong with that?”

“Wrong? There’s a whole lot wrong with it. You’re both too young for a start. What do you know about babies? It’s going to muck up your life and then, when you’re fed up with it all, young man, you’ll walk out and leave my daughter alone with the baby. I know what you boys are like – you’re all the same.”

“We’re not all the same.” I was really trying to keep a lid on my temper but it was about to explode. “I love Gina and I’m going to look after her and the baby.”

“Like hell. You’ll be gone quicker than I can say nappy change.” She turned to Gina while I fumed in silence.

“How far along are you?” she asked.

“The doctor thinks about six weeks.”

“Not too late then.” She sat back, satisfied.

“Not too late for what?” I asked.

“An abortion,” her mother said.

I sprung to my feet and pulled Gina up with me. “No one is killing my baby! Come on, Gina, let’s get out of here.”

I dragged Gina towards the door, eager to get away from this evil woman. Gina stumbled along behind me. Outside in the corridor, I paced back and forth as we waited for the lift.

“How could she say such a thing?” I asked.

“She’s only thinking about what’s best for me. She got knocked up with me and my dad said he would stick by her, but he left soon after I was born. I guess she doesn’t want the same to happen to me.”

She was crying. I pulled her close and said, “I’ll never leave you, Gina. I’m not the same as your father.”

“I never knew who he was. She doesn’t even have a photo of him. She burnt them all.”

The lift doors opened then. We got in and rode down to the ground floor.

Life got a little complicated after that. Gina stayed at her flat and went to work each day while I stayed at home and trawled the internet looking for jobs. Mum helped me to put together a CV which went out many times, but nothing ever came back. Dad had been right: I had no employable qualifications. I couldn’t even do the labouring jobs because of my prosthetic leg.

Gina was subdued. She came round to my place often, and I stayed over at her place from time to time, but she was either sick or tired. It was hard to know what was going on inside her head.

I didn’t realize how persuasive her mother had been until one day when Gina didn’t answer her mobile phone. I sent numerous texts to which she didn’t reply, and then, in the evening, she didn’t pick up when I rang. Fine, I thought; she’s throwing another of her hissy fits – I’ll just leave her to come back to me like she always does. The next day, in the early afternoon, I gave in and drove around to her workplace to make sure that she was all right.

“Gina? No, she’s taken today off. Some sort of medical procedure, she said. Back at work tomorrow.”

The words “medical procedure” hit me like a baseball bat. Was something wrong with the baby? I dashed back to the car and drove round to her flat.

“Gina! Gina!” I shouted as I banged on the door. “Open up, come on, let me in.”

Her flatmate opened the door and I just walked in, looking for Gina.

“She’s not here,” the flatmate said.

“Where is she?”

“Her mum came and picked her up about half an hour ago.”

“Where were they going?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Gina looked kind of upset though.”

I tried to think. I had to know where they were going. I went into Gina’s room but didn’t even know where to start to look. Reaching for the mobile in my pocket, I dialled Gina’s number, desperate for her to pick up. Instead a song started up, muffled, to my right, and I turned to see Gina’s handbag on the dresser. Wherever she had gone, she’d not taken her handbag or her phone.

I strode over to the handbag and started going through it. Her purse was in there as well as a piece of paper, folded over. I took it out and opened it up.

When I saw the name of the clinic in bold on the top, my blood went cold and I flew out of the room, racing back to my car. The flatmate closed the door after me, obviously glad that I had gone.

I entered the address into the satnav, and then started the car, flinging it into gear and taking off with significant loss of traction. I didn’t care.

Traffic was heavy for mid-afternoon and everyone was on the move. I pushed my way into queues, ignoring the finger gestures, and cut in front of slow drivers. I seemed to catch every red light. I cursed and hit the wheel, impatient. I had to get to the clinic before Gina killed our baby.

I screeched to a halt in the car park and raced to the entranceway. It was locked, but I saw people on the other side in a waiting room. I could not see Gina but I saw her mum, reading a magazine. I banged on the door, hard, and shouted as loud as I could. A man appeared in the room beyond the glass – a security guard, I guessed. I shouted louder. He reached over and pressed a button and the door slid open. He meant to come out to block me, but instead I forced my way in, pushing him aside as I headed towards Gina’s mum.

“Where is she?” I demanded.

She put down the magazine and rose to her feet, defiant. “You’re too late, she’s already gone through.”

I turned from her and looked towards the door at the rear of the waiting room.

“Gina!” I yelled as I headed towards it. “Gina, don’t do it! Please, no!”

The door was locked. To my right I saw a receptionist on the phone, glancing at me while talking rapidly into the mouthpiece. The guard had recovered and was heading towards me. I banged on the door in desperation. “Gina, Gina, please don’t. I love you. I love our baby. You don’t have to do this.”

“Come on, son,” said the guard as he took my arm. “The police have been called. Why don’t you leave before they get here?”

I looked towards Gina’s mother. “Don’t I get any say in this? This is my baby too, you know. Why didn’t she talk to me? I had it all sorted.”

“Sorted? You can’t look after her. You’re a cripple!”

I raised my hand to hit her, but the guard grabbed hold of it and wrenched my arm behind my back. Another guard had appeared and he held on to my other arm, and together they dragged me towards the door.

“You bitch!” I yelled at her. The guards continued to push me towards the entrance, getting me outside the building in spite of my attempts to get back inside. Once outside, I yanked my arms out of their grip and rearranged my tangled clothes.

“Ok, I’m going,” I said as I started to walk towards my car.

They relaxed, and, before they could react, I dodged away, down the side of the building where little square windows were set up high in the wall. I figured that this was where the treatment rooms were.

“Gina, Gina!” I called as I ran alongside the wall. “Gina, please don’t do this. I love you. Please don’t do this!”

The cop had arrived without sirens, and I didn’t know he was there until he rugby tackled me and I hit the ground. I tried to get up but the guard held me down with a knee in my back.

“Easy now, just take it easy,” the cop said. I heard the click of metal and felt steel embrace my wrists. “Roll over.”

Awkwardly I rolled over.

“Name?” the cop asked.

“Bevan Campbell.”

“You’re disturbing the peace.”

“My girlfriend’s in there.”

“That doesn’t give you the right to cause a disturbance. Just wait here, Bevan, I’m going to speak to the people inside. This man here will watch you while I’m gone. Just sit tight and I’ll be right back.”

I sat on the ground and fumed, but there wasn’t much I could do. It was difficult to get up at the best of times with my prosthetic leg, and even more difficult with my hands handcuffed behind my back.

While I waited, the sun sank and it started to get cool. I shivered with pent-up anger and cold. I realized now that I was too late. I had done all I could but it hadn’t been enough. Not only was I a cripple, I was a failure as well.

The cop came back out.

“They’re not going to press charges as long as you get back into your car and leave immediately. If you refuse, I’ll arrest you and take you back to the station where you will be charged with disturbing the peace. There’s a woman in there who says she’ll also lay attempted assault charges if you remain on site. So what will it be, son?”

I had been defeated. “Get these cuffs off me and I’ll go,” I said.

So he did and I left, my tyres screeching as I exited the car park. I wondered if he was going to nab me for loss of traction but didn’t come after me. Perhaps he should have, and then everything that happened afterwards wouldn’t have taken place at all.