Something Inextricable - Adrienne Giacon (best fiction books of all time .txt) 📗

only to hear the fabric rip beneath it. I looked over the white picket fence. The house next door was still silent. I undid my skirts and stepped out of them. I bent down and clasped the rock in my arms dragging it forward a little. It was too heavy. My husband would have moved it easily. I looked about, desperate to help the Tipua. On the ground not far away, the sun was warming the earth. Determined now I grasped the rock and with a burst of strength dragged it until it rested in the warmth of the sun.

“You must stay here for now. You will be warm and safe. I will get you back to where you belong, soon.” I knew now what I must do.
I collected some dried twigs and piled them as I remembered my mother doing- next to the rock. I fetched some dried leaves and used the tinder I kept inside my discarded boot to start the fire. As I squatted down in front of its flames I thought about how much I loved my son. I called to him then telling him that I may not be here for much longer. The wind played with my hair, the earth massaged my feet and the fire burned away the cold that had chilled my very soul. I don’t know how long I sat there. An eternity passed.

“Are you alright?” Her prim and proper voice jarred through the air landing in the middle of my eternity.

I saw myself then- skirt lying discarded on the earth. My undergarments marked with black wet sludge; my boots tossed upon the grass and my hair flowing free having wriggled out of the clips that had held it into submission. I threw back my head and laughed. Laughed so hard that I rolled upon the ground from the sheer force of it. So hard that the pain inside my chest burst open and poured out through my eyes making a strange howling sound through my lips as it made its way to the world in which I was living. I was not dead it seems. She ran back into her house and closed the door. A bolt slid across it from the inside. Did she feel my pain at that moment? Or was she just worried she might feel it too if she stayed?

I lay there all night looking at the stars as they passed their way around me. The night cloaking me in blackness. Is Te Kore- the void blacker than this? A heavy sadness came from the deepness of the night overtaking me. My tears flowed unstopped alone without eyes to see them.Tears for my lost husband. Tears for a life that now made no sense. Tears until the earth was satisfied. I looked for the Tipua. At first I did not recognise him. He was no longer bulbous and grey, now he was tall thin, black and filled with a terrible rage.

“Why?” I asked.
I felt his anger inside me. Losing his home, separated from everything he knew, put in a corner. Alone, dark, cold, wet, abandoned. The anger boiled up inside of me. My home, my house, my land, everything I held dear was to be taken from me. The anger was big and dark and strong. I saw it, I recognised, I felt it, I acknowledged it, but I could not keep it. I knew it would destroy both of us if I did.

I sang a Maori waiata to the Tipua. A simple hymn, Christian and Maori combined. I made my way through the darkness to the water pump. I filled the small cup next to it with a little water and broke a leaf from the fern next to it. Dipping it in the water I returned to the Tipua calling for my Tupuna- my Ancestors and the gods to bless him, I splashed the water over the rock. Then placing the leaf upon the rock I asked for his blessing. His anger slowly fell away replaced by a quietness. Exhausted by the events of the past day I made my way back to the house and into my bed.

The next morning I dressed in my plainest dress with a small bag of cooking utensils bound in a small cloth. Mr Doherty would surely not begrudge me these few things? I was unsure how I would carry the rock. The pounding on the door started while I was eating my breakfast. I did not rush but savoured each mouthful taking in the beauty of my surroundings. The photos of my children, my husband, the items we had chosen together at different times of our lives together. The door was strong it would not give easily. When I was ready I opened the door.
“Mr Doherty, good morning.”
He eyed the way my hair was loose and flowing about my shoulders. He saw that my feet were bare.
“Did ye not hear me knocking woman?”
My eyes flared and he saw then the fires that I had lit. He faltered.
“Oh, I, ah... was just worried the creditors would be here already. Sign the paper with your mark and we can be done.”
“Where is it?”
He pulled another from inside the other mans waistcoat. I walked to the window to look at the place where my children had played, where my husband and I had sat one last time. Is this goodbye? I asked the land.

I heard Mr Doherty lay the paper upon the small writing desk behind me, it rustled like thieves running through the dead leaves of a forest. Then I saw them. I ran past him out the door and literally flew down to the garden. Across the smooth lawn on the other side was a raised garden bed. Set about within were rocks of a similar size and hue, basking in the sun. All the plants were luscious and green around them. I went to my rock. The Tipua was sitting quietly.
“Would you like me to move you over to the other rocks? Are those your family?”
“Ai.”

He said
I bent and dragged the rock across the lawn. My hands smarted and burned as his rough edges cut into my softened skin. This pain was nothing. I reached the raised bed and tried to lift the rock but it was too heavy. I leaned it against the ledge and rocked it until it fell into the garden bed. I pushed it over the English flowers until it was in the circle with the others.

“Thank you.”

The Tipua said.
I made my way back to the house. I knew then that I could no longer pretend. I am who I am.
I held my head high and walked inside.
To my delight there was my eldest son Robert sitting on our couch. Mr Doherty however did not seem so delighted.
“So... um... I... thought you could not be contacted?” Doherty was saying.
“By you perhaps.” Robert replied. He stood then and taking Mr Doherty by the hand he led him to the door.
“The creditors will...
“Any outstanding debt has already been paid. Good day.” Robert closed the door.
“I‘m sorry I was not here sooner. I saw you in my dreams and came as fast as I could.”
“You are here now.” I said and I grabbed his hands and stroked his soft skin. It hadn’t grown too thick. We sat on our couch.
“It is time I told you about my family,” I said “introduced you to your Tupuna.”
I felt my Mothers moko upon my chin as she came closer. I always did at moments of great wisdom. Out the window I saw the tide had come back in.

Imprint

Text: Adrienne Giacon
Publication Date: 11-02-2012

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
This is dedicated to my Ancestress Mary Ann Benson/ Sampson/Wynyard. She was half Maori and married New Zealands Governor General Colonel Wynyards Son in the 1800s.