Gith (6 page)

After a while the talk drifted round to the Annual Show
and the fact that Tommy Loumis from the gun club was
running another clay pigeon shoot. Mark started bragging
about how he was going to win it. Gray laughed and told him
he didn't have a chance.

'I'm working the trap,' he said. 'And I've already taken my
bribes.'

'So who's it going to be, then?' Tom asked.

'Well,' Gray said. 'Seriously. If you want to bet on the
beginners, you can't go past our Colly.' Colly was Gray's
nephew, a kid of about twelve.

'That right?' Tom said.

'He's a cracker.'

I figured I'd had enough so I bought another jug, filled my
glass from it and left it on the table. Then I made my way
down the other end of the bar and chalked my name up for
a game of pool.

I stood and watched and drank, without thinking that
much, until my turn came. By a stroke of luck I finished up
partnering Pat Harrigan, who was one of the best players
around. We won six games straight. It was dark when I left.

I walked down the road to the Big Asia Takeaway. There
were no other customers and Dong was wiping up behind
the counter.

'Has Gith been in?' I asked him.

'Sure. Bout one hour.'

'What did she get? Fish and chips?'

'That right.'

'Me too. Two fish, one chips.'

He ladled a scoop of chips into a basket and lowered it
into the fat. Then he dipped a piece of fish in the sloppy white
batter and dropped that in. A second piece after it.

'Do you know anyone with a white van?' I asked him.

'Sure,' he said, looking over his shoulder with a grin. 'Me.'

Yes, I thought. That's about par for the course.

There were no lights on back home. I panicked for a second
but I knew it was all right. Gith sometimes did this, going to
bed soon as it got dark. I put my parcel of food on the kitchen
bench and went through into the hallway. The door to her
room was open just a crack. I swung it a bit wider and a shaft
of light spread across the floor and over the bed on the far
side, my shadow in the middle of it. I could see Gith's head on
the pillow, just poking out of the folded bedclothes. I wanted
to go in and touch her, to make sure she was all right or just
to feel her warmth maybe. But that was dumb.

I closed the door again and turned away, went back to the
kitchen for the food.

***

ON SATURDAY WE went for a drive up to Lake Nihonui. We
took the Riley and Gith drove. The Riley is her car, registered
in her name, and she really likes the chance to get behind the
wheel. I didn't honestly know if the learner's licence she got
when she was fifteen was still valid but, given that Hemi never
said anything, we reckoned it must be. The car did all right,
purring along at fifty mph on the flat bits and taking the hills
in its stride. We stopped at a layby on the northern edge of
the lake. It was too cold to have lunch in the open air so we
unpacked the sandwiches and ate them sitting in the car.

'Len,' she said, after a while. 'Thad.'

'Sad? Yes. Too right.'

'Poor Len. Poor Kath.' She sighed. 'Die. Thcary.'

'We're all scared to die, I guess.'

'Acthident. Mum an Dad.'

'You remember that?'

'Narg. Ferry. Birdth. Gullth. Waaark.' She made a fair shot
at the sound of a gull. Then she said. 'Thcream. Thcream.
Braketh thcream. Mum thcream. Eeeeeeeeeeeee.'

'You remember that? The brakes? Your mum?'

'Narg. Mebby. Mum an Dad. Dead.'

'That's sad.'

'Gith.' She said nothing for a second or two, and then,
'Hurt.' She started to cry, one hand over her eyes. She had a
cup of tea in the other. A half-eaten sandwich on a piece of
Glad Wrap in her lap.

She was a long way away in the Riley's front seat but I
moved across and put my arm around her shoulders.

'Yes, sweetheart. I know. I know. It still hurts, eh.'

She sniffed.

'We don't talk about it much,' I said. 'Maybe we should.'

She knuckled away her tears, sniffed again.

'Girl. Van girl. Dead,' she said.

'Dead?' I wanted to say she was wrong but I couldn't.

She rubbed above her left eye with the tip of her finger.
'Head,' she said. 'Thtuffed. Talk. Thtuffed.'

'I know.'

'Bugger.'

'Yes.'

She looked at me and then waved her hand out towards the
water. 'Thad,' she said. 'Here. Thad. Thad light. Bad. Mebby.'

'Here?' I knew what she meant. There was always something
weird about the lake. Right now a flock of ducks, maybe thirty
or forty birds, were skimming over the surface. Dark shapes
with their blurred shadows in the silver water. To the south
the hills rose up, a deep dull grey against a blue-grey sky, while
to our right, along the western side, a pale mist was rolling in
like smoke, tumbling down the gullies and spreading out over
the surface.

Gith opened the car door and got out, stood hugging
herself against the cold and sipping her cup of tea. I joined
her, put my arm round her, felt her shiver. A damp breeze was
stirring, flicking her hair against my jaw. Bit by bit, the lake
was sinking under the mist.

'We should go,' I said.

She didn't move.

I remembered the story of the taniwha they said lived up
here, and how the lake sometimes turned to blood. It was a
trick of the light but that didn't stop it freaking you out. My
brother Bill had seen it once. He was up here on a tramping
trip and spent the night over on the western side where the
mist was coming down now. He woke at sunrise the next
morning. The sky was red in the east and the lake even redder,
a dark blood colour. He was blown away by the strength of
that colour. He said it made him think the worst kind of
thoughts. He tried to take a photo but all that came out was
the brightness of the sky.

'Weird place,' I said.

She looked at me. 'Gith.'

And suddenly I got an odd feeling. Somebody was around
here somewhere. Somebody had died, right near here, and
it hadn't been an easy death. There was a body in one of the
gullies along the side of this road. Was this what had made
Gith talk about the van girl?

'Let's go,' I said.

'Okay.'

We got back in the car and Gith reversed and turned,
moved towards the road. The mist was coming in quickly now,
swirling about the Riley like grey water. It was no more than
half a metre deep but it was enough to hide the surface of the
road. Our tyres popped over the gravel. Gith stopped, looked
at me, worried. What the hell were we going to do?

'Wait,' I said. 'If it covers us we might be able to see
better.'

We sat there and it rose round us. It seemed like we were
slowly sinking into the lake itself, drowning in the cold grey
water. In a few minutes we were below the surface.

It was easier to see but not easy enough. On my side of
the car we could just make out the gatepost, but there was
nothing beyond it. Gith turned on the lights but all that did
was fill the grey with brightness. I looked at her. I was scared
she might freak out but she seemed okay. Just worried like I
was.

'We could sit and wait,' I said, 'but we might be here all
night. Maybe if I walk in front of the car and you follow me
we could get ahead of it. Or below it.'

'Okay.'

'I'll walk along the left-hand edge of the road. Keep the
left wing behind me.'

'Gith.'

I got out. The car door sounded loud when I shut it. Nothing
now but the hum of the Riley's motor. I could see the ground though —
just. I guided Gith out of the car park and onto the road, and set off walking
along the edge of the lake. It was a good four k before the road veered left
over a saddle and dropped down into the valley towards Te Kohuna. Unless we
were moving faster than the mist it was going to be a long, long walk.

I could see nothing much on the right-hand side — vague
shapes of bushes, clumps of reeds along the lake's edge. To
my left the dark of the rising ground, covered in bush. From
time to time I could hear running water there, little streams
coming down through the gullies. I kept my eyes on the edge
of the road and walked on steadily about half a metre from
the narrow shoulder.

I was still thinking about somebody dying. A woman. Or
maybe it was Gith's mum in the car. I could feel the person
somehow. It was like there was a voice calling just out of
earshot or on the edge of my mind. The further I went, the
stronger the feeling got. It was like she was screaming and the
screams were getting louder, except that there was nothing to
hear. To my left up ahead was the sound of water, rushing. It
got louder and louder and the scream seemed to flow into it
and under it. I could feel the cold coming towards me, even
colder than the mist. Then the Riley's engine cut out.

I stopped, went round to the driver's side of the car. Gith
had the window down.

'You okay?' My voice had a kind of echo. The screaming
was still there but it was drowned now in the sound of the
water.

Gith was staring at me with big scared eyes.

'What happened?' I asked.

'Dunno.' She pulled the starter. The motor turned but
didn't fire.

'That stream over there . . .' I pointed. I didn't want to say
what I thought.

She pulled the starter again. Still nothing happened.

'Flooded,' she said.

'Can't be.'

'Crathy.'

I shivered.

'Look,' she said, pointing ahead of the car.

The mist there was growing lighter. For a second I had
the feeling that something real bad was coming towards us
— some bright white power that would blow us away — but
then the whiteness started to grow blue. The mist was peeling
back, the road opening up in front of us in a burst of sunlight.
Gith pulled the starter again and the engine fired. I ran round
to the passenger side and clambered in. We were moving
before I shut the door.

We didn't say much on the way home. I felt weird. We both
did. It wasn't as if we were spooked. It was more the opposite,
like a weight had been lifted. The sun was shining. The world
felt good. We didn't go straight back to the house. We took
a run out to Basingstoke and bought some honey and some
apples. For a while, on the road, with the green of the fields
and the blue of the sky, with the Riley purring along, it felt
like we were running away together, leaving everything and
everyone behind. Just the two of us. Free.

***

I DIDN'T LIKE letting Steve and Team Winston down but
things worked out the way Michelle wanted in the end. Steve
didn't mind that much. I think part of him wanted to flag the
racing away and I gave him an out. We'd got the V8 going
again, but somewhere between the machine and the driver it
had lost its edge. Steve wasn't winning any more and he wasn't
the sort of bloke to hang about if he couldn't be top dog.

It was in Wellington that I first met Gith — or Anna, as
she was then. I guess Sophie made the first contact. Michelle
had never got on that well with her sister but she would have
been flattered to be asked into that part of the family. Plus,
her plans were all working out so she would have a chance to
show off a bit.

Anna was fifteen, a tall, lanky thing with a big smile and
her parents' brains. She could spout French with the best
of them, was a top maths student and had won prizes for
things she'd written. I've no idea why but we hit it off from
the start. I mean, it's clear enough why anyone would like
her
— she was so friendly and open to things — but I haven't a
clue why she should take to me. One thing we did have in
common, though, was the cars. Anna was learning to drive
and, like everything she did, she was into it one hundred
per cent — not just what pedals to push but also what was
happening under the bonnet. I think Sophie liked the idea,
maybe because it proved girls could do anything. Anyway, at
that time Anna and her parents lived up on Seatoun Heights
and I'd got a job at a little workshop down on the flats in
Miramar. My boss wasn't round much and left most of the
work to me. Once or twice a week Anna would drop by and
watch what I was doing. It wasn't like Michelle and Julie-
Anne had been in Palmy. Anna really wanted to know. In
the end I let her do a few things, like changing sparkplugs.
It didn't go down too well when she got grease on the school
uniform.

I guess it might have all fizzled out if things had gone
the usual way. She got her learner's licence and I had my eye
out for a car for her — something like a Mitsubishi Mirage
would suit her fine, I reckoned. I was pretty sure that once
she was mobile she would stop caring about cars and go on to
something new, leaving me trying to figure out what I'd done
wrong. That January, though, she and her folks went on a trip
to the South Island. They took the ferry to Picton and set
out down the West Coast. The accident happened the second
night out.

Soon as they could move her, they took Gith from
Nelson to the neurological unit at Hutt Hospital. She was
still completely out to it but the doctors thought there was
a chance she would come round. They figured there would
be brain damage, for sure. Nobody could say how much,
though.

It was Michelle's idea that we keep an eye on her. I think
she felt a bit pushed into it. Her mother was sixty-six and had
to look after Michelle's Dad, who was ten years older and in
dodgy health after forty-plus years of smoking. Anna's father,
James, had been an only child. His mother was dead and his
father was in a home with the early stages of Alzheimer's.
That pretty much left Michelle and me as the only workable
relatives around.

We left our flat in Strathmore and moved to a rented house
in Epuni, which was walking distance from the hospital. I quit
the Miramar job, meaning to find something out in the Hutt
Valley. While I looked, I took to visiting Anna. The doctors
reckoned it might help if there was somebody there to talk to
her. Maybe a word or two would get through and crank-start
her brain. I didn't have anything smart to say so I just told her
what we were up to or else I talked about the weather, which
was warm and sunny right then, and about the results of the
summer series that was running at Manfeild.