Chapter Nineteen
He leaned back in his seat and his old fear of flying crawled up out of the dark. He’d been worried they’d spot the difference between the picture on Eddie’s passport and his face, especially in the light of all the security they supposedly had in these days of Homeland Security and their seemingly never ending terrorist alerts, but a guy with half a brain took a quick look at the passport, then asked him to remove his shoes. He’d been sweating a bit through that ordeal, but nothing like this.
He wasn’t afraid, he told himself, but when he turned his palms over, his hands were damp. He brushed the hair from his eyes. It was slick with sweat.
“ Are you all right, sir?” A pretty blonde flight attendant asked.
“ I’ll be okay.” He met her eyes, tried to concentrate on her freckles.
“ There’s nothing to be afraid of, we’re quite safe.”
“ Do I look afraid to you?”
“ A little.” Then, “You have flown before, haven’t you? And survived?” She smiled.
“ Yes, barely, but I lost my eye.” He laughed as he pointed at the eye patch.
“ Seriously?”
“ No, just kidding, but I am a little bit afraid of flying.”
“ Like I said, it’s perfectly safe. I’ve been doing it for years.”
“ I’ll be okay.”
“ If you need anything, just ask.” She started to move down the aisle, stopped, turned back. “Really, any problems at all, just give me a call. That’s what I’m here for.”
“ I can’t believe it. You’re afraid of flying?” Donna thought after the flight attendant had moved away.
“ Where have you been?” he asked, surprised at himself for not missing her earlier.
“ I’ve been here all along, I just thought you needed time to get over everything that happened.”
“ Maybe I did. But I think I’m going to need your help getting through the next ten hours.”
“ I suggest sleep.”
“ Not a chance.”
“ When I was a little girl and couldn’t sleep, my mother would tell me stories, and the way she told them made them so real that they took away all my problems and worries, better than the movies, better than TV. When she finished I would lay in my bed, sometimes happy, sometimes sad, sometimes scared, depending on the story. But happy or afraid, I always forgot about not being able to sleep as soon as she finished with the telling.”
“ That’s nice.”
“ Why don’t I tell you one of my mother’s stories and we’ll see if it works.”
“ Really, Donna, I don’t think there’s any way I’m going to sleep.”
“ Let’s try. Put your seat back, close your eyes and listen to me. We have a word in Maori, Ngaarara, that can mean many things, like insect, reptile or even monster. And we have a sort of legend, or maybe tale is a better word, about a kind of monster that my mother, and her mother before her called Ngaarara, for want of a better name.”
“ This doesn’t sound like it’s going to be a bedtime story,” Jim thought.
“ But it’s the story I’m going to tell you,” Donna thought, “so please listen, because it’s important.”
Then Donna told her story.
Long ago two girls climbed a tarata tree to pick the leaves to scent their oils, because they wanted to smell as pretty as they looked. The tree grew on a hill and when they saw the village in the valley below, the girls felt like birds, at one with the sky. The oldest was seventeen, the youngest, a girl named Mahina, was barely fifteen and she wanted to climb as high as she could, because she wanted to touch the clouds.
Mahina was very happy that day, but her happiness was quickly chased away by the sound of a man below, calling up to them.
“ Which one of you will come and be my bride?”
The girls looked down and were frightened at the sight of him. He was old and withered, with stringy hair and slits that hid his eyes.
“ Not me, sir,” the older girl said. “because I am going to marry my sweetheart in three days time.”
“ Then it will be you.” The man pointed a bony finger at Mahina.
“ Not I,” Mahina answered, “for I have no wish to marry for many years.”
“ I am sorry, but you cannot refuse.”
“ But I do refuse,” Mahina said.
Then, all of a sudden, they were covered in a cloud of blue smoke and when it had cleared away the man was gone, but in his place was a giant green tree gecko. And it was laughing.
The girls shuddered at the laughter, because if you hear the laughter of a green gecko, it means someone close to you will die. The only way to avoid the curse is to catch and burn the reptile before death comes to the village.
Again there was smoke and, quick as a wink, the man was back and the girls knew at once that it was no ordinary old man on the ground below them, it was Ngaarara, the evil Gecko Man.
“ I have come searching for a bride.” He pointed that bony finger again. “And I choose you, Mahina.”
“ But I don’t choose you.” Mahina looked straight into his slitted eyes, trying not to be afraid. “So go away.”
“ You have heard my pet’s laughter. If you refuse, death will meet your family before your feet touch the ground. All will die, your mother, father, brothers and sisters. Even your little niece, who I know you love very much.”
Mahina knew this was true, so with sadness in her eyes and a heavy heart, she nodded her head, climbed down from the tree and Ngaarara, the Gecko Man, took her away.
The older girl ran back to the village and told Mahina’s family and they were overcome with grief, but there was nothing they could do, because the evil Ngaarara was already gone.
However, after some time, Mahina was able to convince Ngaarara that she had accepted her fate and one day she told him that she wanted to take him home to meet her family. The Gecko Man agreed, because he had fallen in love with her and he wanted to make her happy.
So the very next day he took her back to her village. He remained at the outskirts, while Mahina went to her father’s house to make arrangements for the meeting and a feast to follow. After awhile she returned and told Ngaarara that he was to be received in her father’s house and that he would be accepted as a son. This made Ngaarara happy and he walked tall and proud when he entered the village, puffing up like a peacock when he was greeted by Mahina’s father and brothers.
“ Where are the women?” the Gecko Man asked.
“ They are doing what women do while we men eat and drink,” Mahina’s father said and he sent Mahina away.
Ngaarara was delighted. It was the best meal he’d ever had and for the first time in his life he felt like he belonged, like he had a family.
“ Now,” Mahina’s father said when the sun started to go down, “you wait here while we go and bring the women and a special surprise.”
“ Go, go.” Ngaarara was ecstatic, a special surprise for him. “Get it and hurry back and when you return, I’ll tell you my secret.”
But the surprise the men had for Ngaarara was not to be to his liking. Mahina’s father and brothers barred the door and piled firewood under the windows. Then they burned the Gecko Man alive, because everyone knows the only way to really kill a being like Ngaarara is to burn him until he’s nothing more than ash.
After the fire burned itself out, the villagers sang and danced throughout the night. Mahina was back and Ngaarara was dead.
“ That’s the traditional end of the story. Mahina returns to her village and everybody lives happily ever after, but there’s more,” Donna thought.
