Rich Man's Coffin (27 page)

         
Rough bushes faded to clear, cultivated land.
 
The tribe had begun to plant crops, Black Jack thought.
 
Trees had been cleared, leaving only the odd one standing here and there around fields of high grass, corn, and potatoes on the fertile plateau. Black Jack marveled at the width and length of the pa.
 
Wood huts appeared ahead along the widening path, finally opening up onto the main area of the
marae
, the village center marked by one large building.
 
The men ran as a pack now. People emerged from various places and dwellings to see them.
 
Black Jack was breathless running back and forth along the main corridor of the village toward the center, and the great community house.
 
He only recognized a few Maori from his former tribe, and they pointed and waved at him as he hurried by.
 
He acknowledged them in his mind only, as he continued his frantic search for one target.
 
His men flanked him and followed his lead, knowing that only he would be welcome here, if at all.

         
Suddenly, warriors from the other tribe began to flow from the Great House in haste, preparing to meet their challengers.
 
Behind them came Pakauwera with a stern look on his face.
 
Seeing Black Jack, his demeanor immediately changed, and he ordered the warriors to stand down.
 
Black Jack’s party had arrived right before suppertime, and many women and children were milling about the back of the house preparing the meal.
 
Black Jack approached Pakauwera at the front door, and the two clasped hands and touched noses and foreheads in a proper
hongi
.
 
They patted one another on the back, and exchanged pleasant greetings along with sentiments of surprise.

         
Not wanting to be rude, Black Jack humbly apologized and asked forgiveness for his unexpected visit.
 
He added, however, that he was on urgent business.
 
He said, “If it pleases the Chief, and if time has healed the wound between us, then I would like very much to see Kumari.”

         
The Chief answered, “Of course, my brother.
 
It is an honor that you have come.
 
I have heard through stories what you and Kumari once shared. You are welcome to see my wife now.”

         
“Ah thank you, Chief.
 
I desire only a brief talk with her for old time’s sake. Then, my men and I will leave you with the message from Robulla.”

         
“Nonsense.
 
Spend as much time with the beautiful princess as you like.
 
We will all enjoy a great meal together. You can explain your mission after supper.
 
Kumari is just around back there.
 
Go and see her. I will wait inside.”

         
Black Jack’s heart leapt.
 
He gave a quick, anxious glance at his warriors; as a child entering a candy shop. He proceeded to lead them around the house.
 
Why she was around back with the common women briefly crossed his mind; but his delirious rush to see her at long last quickly brushed the thought aside.
 
Rounding the corner of the hut, he scanned for her among the smattering of women, toiling to and fro with various tasks in the back yard.
 
Some were sitting, peeling vegetables and tending pots. Others walked around carrying various animals and children.

         
Then he saw her.
 
Near the back of the yard was the unmistakable outline of her slender back.
 
He melted.
 
Gathering his nerve, he slowly walked up behind her.
 
His men lay back at the corner of the house, spying from a distance.
 
Crossing the yard, passing through paths of busy women, Black Jack remained intently focused on the back of her head.
 
From afar, he could tell that she still had her full head of long, shiny, black hair.
 
He imagined her turning, smiling, flashing her white teeth and green eyes, her smooth, brown skin outshining the setting sun.

         
As he reached her, he noticed that she was sitting on a tree stump.
 
From behind, he could tell that she was preparing something.
 
She seemed to be chopping fish with a whalebone.
 
He drew a final breath, said a quick prayer, and reached out. He lightly touched the back of her shoulder.
 
She turned slowly, expressionless.
 
Suddenly, there she was, in all her beauty, looking up at him.
 
He felt the Earth drop away beneath him. The sky swayed.
 
His head grew light and he felt like he was falling.
 
His scalp tingled hot and cold. His groin swelled.
 
His Adam’s apple tightened.
 
He felt his spirit rise, and he saw his body from above before it returned.
 
She smiled at him. His heart went into labor.
 
He wanted to devour her, be inside her, and satisfy all the longings of her soul simultaneously.
 
He wanted to make love to her there on the spot in front of all of the people of the village while she screamed his name in ecstasy.
 
They were reunited, at last! He thought.

         
As he started to speak, he noticed a small, pink, chunk of fish on her forehead peeking out from under her hair.
 
He smiled as he reached to brush it away.
 
A stray piece of fish she was smashing splashed way up here
, he thought.
 
The flesh-colored bleb remained unmoved by his touch.
 
Black Jack put his fingers on the bump, and brushed her locks aside.

         
The pink furrow stretched from the top left corner of her forehead across her temple diagonally to a loose flap of skin that folded into a dark chasm within her skull.
 
There, on the side of her head, normally hidden by hair, was a shadowy section of a spidery map of pulsating blue rivers of blood coursing in and among a sickly gray and shiny pudding.
 
Black Jack pulled back his hand and let her hair drop to conceal the unsuccessful slash of an merciless mere.
 
His ears began to ring and buzz, and the air became thick.
 
He searched her eyes for a spark of life.

         
Remarkably, she sprang to her feet, still smiling, and began to speak.
 
What came out of her mouth, however, accompanied by the drool and partially-chewed food from days gone by, was closer to the crowing moans of a child in the midst of a nightmare than to any words that Black Jack had ever heard.
 
He was able to make out only some of what she said.

Kumari yelled, “Bwah, dah!”

Black Jack stumbled backward, searching her face for signs of intelligence.
 
“Yes?” He said.

         
“Buh, duh!”
 
She rambled on, pointing at Black Jack.

Black Jack turned away from her in horror and ran. He felt worse than if the Chief had cut out his heart. Black Jack reached the back of the house and his warriors.
 
His face was green. Beads of sweat covered his face.
 
He vomited violently.
 
He hurried past his men who fell in behind and flanked him on both sides, not sure what he would do.

         
Kumari pursued the group, spewing gibberish.

         
Black Jack could take no more.
 
He wheeled around on his heels and lunged at Kumari.
 
His men caught him and struggled to restrain his vigorous charge.
 
He leapt, clawed, and screamed at her as his men held his thrusting and writhing body with all of their combined strength.
 
“Kill her!
 
I’m gonna kill her!
 
Please, dear God, let me kill her!”
 
His face swelled grotesquely purple, as his eyes bulged and turned red. Sweat and saliva flowed freely as he flailed.
 
His veins stood upon his skin.

         
Kumari stood watching him, pointing and mumbling.

         
Black Jack heaved forward with all of his strength. Then, his eyelids fluttered. His eyeballs rolled back in their sockets.
 
His body went limp, with one arm outstretched and fingers gnarled.
 
In a fading, raspy, voice, he said, “Please, God, kill her.”

                                               
II

         
Light, mellow smoke sharpened in the crisp dawn air as it crawled inside his nostrils and stung. Black Jack awoke rudely to the sporadic crackling of many small fires nearby.
 
His head felt like a torn muscle cramping. His throat seared. His bones scraped one another and parts of his innards as he struggled to stir.
 
He thought at first that he had suffered a great fall.
 
He wondered where he was, and then he remembered.
 
He ceased his efforts to rise, and closed his eyes with a long, groaning sigh.
 
He continued to live and breathe despite his utter lack of will or desire to do so.
 
Through the physical pain and mental quagmire, he reached down into his soul to collect his thoughts for the inevitable day.

         
Black Jack sat up again and peered from the hut.
 
There among the women preparing the morning meal was Kumari, seated on her stump, walloping fish as though she had not moved from the previous night.
 
The clarity of the early morning leant strength to his thoughts, and he stole the opportunity to look upon her and reflect upon happier times.
 
With her back to him, he could view her fondly from a distance. Now just a semblance of her former self, she was no succor to his sorrow.
 
He stared.
 
She stood.
 
He noticed now for the first time that she was with child.
 
Black Jack was far beyond reacting, he merely contemplated more deeply.
 
He was detached from his feelings for her now, he realized.
 
He was only an observer of an object, forming opinions about someone who for so long had formed the core of his life.
 
He tried to think back to what it was that he had wanted with Kumari.
 
He believed that it was Heaven on Earth.
 
Black Jack had thought that he had found paradise in his lifetime.
 
His love for Kumari had been flawless, he thought.
 
Black Jack could not envision a more fulfilling and happy life than spending the rest of his days with her in this veritable Garden of Eden.

         
Yet, she was not dead.
 
Black Jack questioned his own authority to judge the value of her life now.
 
Who was he to wish for or ponder her death? He wondered.
 
Black Jack simply did not know which fate he would choose for her, given the right. Yet her shell remained alive to torment, mock, and continually remind him that no matter what his choice, he must pull himself together and go on living without her.
 

Black Jack wept.
 
There in the shadows alone with his grief, he quietly mourned the passing of her from his life, her body standing not forty feet from him.
 
His secret farewell to Kumari respectfully bid, Black Jack rose to meet with Pakauwera.

                                               
III

         
The Chief met Black Jack at the door of the Great House wearing a guilty look.
 
“Please, come in.
 
We will catch up on old times and celebrate your return.”

         
Black Jack replied, “No, thank you.
 
We will be on our way this morning.”

         
“I did not know how to tell you.
 
It has been very hard on all of us.
 
As you can see, I still love her very much.
 
She has borne three children by me. We are doing quite well.”

         
“Well, yes, I am happy for the
tribe
.
 
I still consider the Rangitane to be my people.
 
That is also what I need to discuss with you.”