Phoenix Du Rose

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

JUDGE NOT“You need to watch that boy.” Tina opened a rusty first aid tin and leafed through a collection of sticking plasters and bandages. She pulled one out and measured it for size against the oozing cuts on Phoenix’s knees.

“Watch him do what?” Misery lowered Phoenix’s voice and made her deliberately obtuse. She sat on the desk and swung her legs, trying not to stare at the telephone in the corner. A tattered ordinance survey map covered a cork noticeboard above the desk. Someone had taped the two halves together long enough ago for the glue to leach through and turn it yellow. Phoenix studied the map, tracing the sweep of the coastline and yearning to follow the wavy contours home.

Tina raised a blonde eyebrow, perhaps doubting the girl could be quite so naive. “He’s nice enough,” she conceded. “But he’s trouble. Mind you don’t get pulled into something you can’t escape.”

“Like what?” Phoenix persisted. She pursed her lips, knowing her mother would have rebuked her about then. Her father would have given her ‘the look’ and it would have proved more than enough to silence her. “How can he be trouble and nice at the same time?”

Tina frowned. She ignored the grimace of pain on Phoenix’s face as she exercised her revenge, spreading iodine over the tiny cuts with cotton wool. “I can’t give you specifics. Let’s just say he’s had a rough start in life. Time will tell if he’s able to carve something better for himself or end up disappointing us all.”

Phoenix hissed as Tina dabbed at her knee with a fresh piece of dry gauze. She spoke through gritted teeth, writhing beneath the pressure of the sticking plaster Tina slapped over the joint. “How can he carve something better for himself? He needs help to change his circumstances. Isn’t that why he’s here?”

Tina blinked and her cheeks flushed enough to reveal her discomfort. Built from solid stock, her skin appeared pink and downy like a peach. She cleared her throat. “Yes. We’ll pray for him. Gus is great at steering people in the right direction.” Her eyelashes fluttered as she said the camp leader’s name with a hushed reverence.

“But what about practical help?” Phoenix slid from the desk and straightened her shorts. Escaping iodine left a brown rivulet along her shin and stained the top of her sock. “My mama calls it a leg up. She helps lots of people get back onto their feet.” Names and faces drifted across her inner vision. So many people owed their change in circumstances to Hana Du Rose’s generosity and Logan Du Rose’s tolerance. She thought of her father’s dead pan expression and missed him. Her gaze strayed to the telephone again. “I want to call home,” she blurted. “My parents will help Kirwan.”

“It doesn’t work.” Tina didn’t look up from her task. She sorted the various plasters into size order within the tin.

Phoenix held her breath. She’d used the phone less than ten minutes earlier. “Can I try?” she whispered. “My Poppa is sick. I’d feel better if I could speak to my mama.”

Tina shrugged and Phoenix stole across the creaky floorboards. She grasped the receiver in sweating fingers and lifted it to her ear. Her fingers poised over the buttons, the numbers obscured in the semi darkness. Nothing. Swallowing, she depressed the large button occupying the space where the receiver usually sat. Her ear filled with the sound of dead air. “I don’t understand,” she hissed. “Why isn’t it working?”

“It’s intermittent.” Tina bent and jiggled the connection where the wire met the socket. “Our cook phoned her husband yesterday, but I tried to call home earlier and it wouldn’t work.”

Phoenix replaced the receiver and picked it up again. She lifted it to her ear and willed it to recreate the dial tone. Still nothing. Exasperation made her clumsy as she dumped it in the cradle. An uncharacteristic flare of temper made her want to slam it over and over again. “Don’t the leaders have mobile phones?” she snapped. “How can you call for help in an emergency?”

Tina shook her head. “Technology is banned from this camp. We’ve never had an emergency, but Grant has a contingency just in case.”

“What contingency?” Phoenix’s voice rose. She ached to go home, back to the mountain and her family. And Wiri. She needed to speak to Wiri. Things had gone wrong between them and she wanted to put it right.

“It doesn’t matter what contingency,” Tina said with a chuckle. She snapped the lid on the first aid tin and settled it back inside the desk drawer. “He’s the head leader and he’s got one. That’s all you need to worry about young lady.” She jerked her head towards the door, telling Phoenix without words she needed to leave. She complied, dragging her feet with her shoulders locked in a slouch. Tina patted her arm with a meaty hand. “Cheer up,” she joked. “It might never happen.”

Phoenix sat on the fringes of the group gathered around the campfire. Misery dimmed the sounds of laughter and the flickering firelight, leaving her mulling over her fight with Wiri and subsequent exit. Her head gave an involuntary shake at the weight of her thoughts and she covered her eyes with her hands. She’d made an i***t of herself with him.

“Phoe is crying!” The shrill voice split the airwaves and the laughter ceased. A small hand landed on Phoenix’s sore knee and another patted the small of her back.

“No, just smoke in my eyes.” Phoenix released the lie and another section of her conscience withered. She’d never lied so much in her life as she had in the previous half an hour. She dropped her hands and blinked at the boisterous flames l*****g the stones surrounding the fire pit. A sparking campfire in the bush during the heat of summer; she imagined Logan’s frown at the idea. “I’m fine.” She bestowed a generous smile at the tiny girl to her right and forced herself to wrap her arm around the slender body. Kylie beamed up at her, desperate for acceptance and blossoming beneath its attainment. Phoenix frowned as another child edged nearer on her left. The palm’s owner continued to pat her back. “Thank you.” Phoenix’s smile looked more genuine as she wrapped her other arm around the girl to her left. Carrie cuddled closer as though wanting to disappear into Phoenix’s armpit.

Phoenix nodded to Grant across the dancing flames and he smiled at her. This was why she’d gained entry to the camp, as a leader and mentor for the younger girls. Sam had sung her praises from the depths of his parish in the Waikato, pulling strings and making coherent arguments for why a fifteen-year-old could attend as a junior leader. Then he’d pulled out at less than a day’s notice and left her rudderless and alone, fending for herself among strangers.

Someone produced a guitar and the singing began. They belted out the usual favourites until a string snapped. A series of groans followed. The singing had given Phoenix a lightness of spirit and reminded her of home and her father’s skill with the guitar and local waiata. “Let’s sing ‘Tūtira mai ngā iwi,’ Phoenix suggested. Shyness gripped her as all eyes turned to stare at her.

“I don’t know it,” the guitar player confessed. The young man’s eyes crinkled at the edges. “I should though. Can you teach us? I’ll mend the string for tomorrow night.”

Phoenix swallowed and nerves stole her voice. Kylie reached forward and gripped her hand. Blonde curls drifted across her eyes as she sheltered behind her fringe, staring up at Phoenix with adoration. “I know it,” she whispered.

So, they sang. The first verse wavered on the breeze until others picked up the tune. Many realised they did know parts of the familiar waiata and joined in the chorus. ‘Tūtira mai ngā iwi, Tātou tātou e.’

“What does it mean?” Suspicion back lit Tina’s eyes, p********a making her believe Māori worshipped other gods. She didn’t want Phoenix hailing damnation on the nice Christian camp without permission. Phoenix channelled her father’s cultural confidence into her answer. “It means, ‘Line up together, people, All of us, all of us. Stand in rows, people, All of us, all of us. Seek after knowledge and love of others - everybody. Be virtuous. Stay united. All of us, all of us.’ That’s what it means.”

“Oh.” Tina’s head jerked back in surprise. “So, like a Christian song, then?” She nodded with approval, her bleached hair bouncing as she spoke. “I didn’t realise.” Phoenix saw the non-verbal communication she sent to Grant and the confirmation from his raised eyebrow.

“Yes, I guess.” Phoenix ground her teeth against exasperation and clutched the girls closer to her body. Kylie squirmed and she realised she’d gripped them too hard. “My father says the prejudice is unfounded. The missionaries and government representatives told lies about us to the English queen. We’ve never worshipped other gods, just Atua, the creator. We revere our ancestors, but they were real people.” The facts rolled off her tongue from within easy reach at the forefront of her mind. She’d heard it often enough from Logan Du Rose. Her father possessed mana, the inexplicable sense of power and authority afforded to a few worthy individuals. In that moment of challenge, she felt his strength and wondered if she might possess it too.

Tina snorted and Phoenix’s bubble of righteousness burst in her chest. “That’s not true,” the older woman sneered. “They definitely worshipped heathen gods.” She rose and removed Phoenix’s right of reply and in that moment, she hated her with the passion of Logan Du Rose.