Eric in a hastily fenced cemetery, along with the middle-aged man who brought the flu, young Naomi who slipped away so quietly, her ethereal adolescence wrapped around her like the most insubstantial of shrouds, and Edgarâs mate, Bill, who had often regaled people with his merchant navy adventures from World War Two, up the Clyde for a refit and brawling with the âpoison dwarvesâ from Partic.
Sean felt Ericâs death more keenly than the loss of his own family, and Puru was inconsolable. They wept and wailed over their family for three days but all the tangi didnât make them feel any better. All their work hadnât been enough. It hadnât saved Eric and the other members of their family and nothing could have helped. They were cheated and let down. Theyâd done their best and the hammer was still descending.
After the burial they gathered in the dining room for the traditional meal, except everyone was subdued, nobody was singing or laughing. Puru leapt to his feet in the middle of the meal, up-ending the table and scattering plates of food.
âFuck this!â he roared, berserk with grief and rage. He stormed out of the hall and by dark heâd demolished two classrooms. Charlene took him a cup of tea at one stage. He was still crying, she said when she returned. Sheâd put the tea down and moved away from the wild swings of his sledgehammer, tearful herself but frightened by the depth of his passion.
It was mostly Edgar who saved them. Sean wasnât really sure what he did, but somehow he inserted himself into all their lives and his gentle wisdom and humour was a most effective antidote against the depression that followed the sickness and the funerals. Sean asked him once how he felt.
âIâm a tough old bastard,â he said. âTake more than a bug to get me down.â
Edgar had been a navigator in Lancaster bombers during World War Two. Heâ told Sean stories about their training at Edmonton in Canada. A British flag had flown from a flagpole by the gate. Orders were issued that everyone, coming and going, would salute it. The Kiwi contingent was unimpressed. Mindful of the historical precedent of Hone Heke, they cut the flagpole down and, chopping it up, fed it into the woodstove in their barracks during the thirty-below sub-Arctic winter. The Brits never did get the measure of the Kiwis and Aussies, Edgar said. Their officers were always making references to âcolonialsâ, but they couldnât hide their fear of these irreverent laughing men, to whom class was nothing but a joke and mana the only thing worth respecting.
âWe made our own way then and weâre doing it now,â Edgar said. âNever mind the details. Theyâll only get you down.â
Edgar had spent over two years in a German POW camp. Heâd eat anything and he hated dogs. And he knew all about details too.
They recovered. Their humour was blacker and overnight theyâd become harder, but somehow they were closer, more centred in the moment, and more aware of each other. Brian had been paying special attention to Cathy, sitting close to her in the wharenui, bringing her food and even feeding her at times when her sadness overwhelmed her and left her unable to move.
âYouâre just sweet on her,â Marie teased him after everyone was back on their feet and it was safe to talk to each other without a flood of tears or a bite in the leg. But everybody was pleased the day Cathy brought Brian a cup of tea.
âI forget, one sugar or two?â
Actually, it was no sugar. Doug had achieved instant and universal abstinence when, with an evil grin, heâd waved a pair of pliers and offered to perform dental surgery on anyone who needed it. Between them, Doug and Marie had been handling all the medical matters like sprains, cuts, infections and even broken bones. They used the well-equipped school infirmary, and Marieâs detailed knowledge
Sean felt Ericâs death more keenly than the loss of his own family, and Puru was inconsolable. They wept and wailed over their family for three days but all the tangi didnât make them feel any better. All their work hadnât been enough. It hadnât saved Eric and the other members of their family and nothing could have helped. They were cheated and let down. Theyâd done their best and the hammer was still descending.
After the burial they gathered in the dining room for the traditional meal, except everyone was subdued, nobody was singing or laughing. Puru leapt to his feet in the middle of the meal, up-ending the table and scattering plates of food.
âFuck this!â he roared, berserk with grief and rage. He stormed out of the hall and by dark heâd demolished two classrooms. Charlene took him a cup of tea at one stage. He was still crying, she said when she returned. Sheâd put the tea down and moved away from the wild swings of his sledgehammer, tearful herself but frightened by the depth of his passion.
It was mostly Edgar who saved them. Sean wasnât really sure what he did, but somehow he inserted himself into all their lives and his gentle wisdom and humour was a most effective antidote against the depression that followed the sickness and the funerals. Sean asked him once how he felt.
âIâm a tough old bastard,â he said. âTake more than a bug to get me down.â
Edgar had been a navigator in Lancaster bombers during World War Two. Heâ told Sean stories about their training at Edmonton in Canada. A British flag had flown from a flagpole by the gate. Orders were issued that everyone, coming and going, would salute it. The Kiwi contingent was unimpressed. Mindful of the historical precedent of Hone Heke, they cut the flagpole down and, chopping it up, fed it into the woodstove in their barracks during the thirty-below sub-Arctic winter. The Brits never did get the measure of the Kiwis and Aussies, Edgar said. Their officers were always making references to âcolonialsâ, but they couldnât hide their fear of these irreverent laughing men, to whom class was nothing but a joke and mana the only thing worth respecting.
âWe made our own way then and weâre doing it now,â Edgar said. âNever mind the details. Theyâll only get you down.â
Edgar had spent over two years in a German POW camp. Heâd eat anything and he hated dogs. And he knew all about details too.
They recovered. Their humour was blacker and overnight theyâd become harder, but somehow they were closer, more centred in the moment, and more aware of each other. Brian had been paying special attention to Cathy, sitting close to her in the wharenui, bringing her food and even feeding her at times when her sadness overwhelmed her and left her unable to move.
âYouâre just sweet on her,â Marie teased him after everyone was back on their feet and it was safe to talk to each other without a flood of tears or a bite in the leg. But everybody was pleased the day Cathy brought Brian a cup of tea.
âI forget, one sugar or two?â
Actually, it was no sugar. Doug had achieved instant and universal abstinence when, with an evil grin, heâd waved a pair of pliers and offered to perform dental surgery on anyone who needed it. Between them, Doug and Marie had been handling all the medical matters like sprains, cuts, infections and even broken bones. They used the well-equipped school infirmary, and Marieâs detailed knowledge
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