Kaimoana Tales, 1 - Virgil

"We’ve all heard that a million monkeys banging on a million typewriters will eventually reproduce the entire works of Shakespeare. Now, thanks to the Internet, we know this is not true."


The school year ended on a high note. Virgil won 2 of the 4 available ‘Best in Class’ awards and also the ‘Sportsperson of the Year’. The latter was largely because of his epic victory against Motueka High, right back at the start of the year.

He was a bit embarrassed but his mother was delighted.

They spent most of the weekend packing and cleaning. The furniture removal truck arrived first thing on Monday morning and, after a final check and lick around the house and yard, they left Tiroroa for good and headed for Kaimoana.

Natasha drove her car and Virgil drove his gran’s housetruck, so it was going to be a long day. Gran was ‘gone overseas’ for Christmas and she’d be joining them in the new year. Well, she said it was overseas, and it was technically, but all that really meant was that she’d gone up North, to Auckland actually. She didn’t take the housetruck up to the North Island, it would cost far too much on the ferry and she ‘wasn’t made of bloody money’.

So they left Tiroroa with few regrets. They’d had some interesting times there but had never really felt like it was home. There had been bad times but there had been good times too. When Virgil thought of Tiroroa he’d think of it as the place where he met the great love of his life – his Joel.

But Joel wasn’t there anymore and he wasn’t Virgil’s either. Prick! He wished that he’d never loved him; but he did and always would.

The worst thing about leaving was that Virgil’s best friend wasn’t coming with them. Jimmy, the Alsatian, was dead and buried down by the river. Poor old thing.

They struggled up and over the Spooner’s Range, down the long, sweeping road into Nelson and slowly through there, thanks to the insane traffic. The summer-holiday makers were arriving already. The housetruck seemed to take forever going over the long, twisting hills after Nelson and it was a relief to finally come down to the Rai Valley, through Canvastown, Havelock and Renwick, Woodbourne and Blenheim.

They stopped for a late lunch at a vineyard café just south of Blenheim. The food there was cheap and plentiful, but the stop still cost them far too much because Natasha had to stock-up on wine for the Christmas season. Virgil didn’t know why she had to buy so much, Gran wouldn’t be there to share it with her and he certainly wouldn’t be having any.

There were more hills after Blenheim, but nothing like as bad as they’d already come over. The highway followed down along the East Coast, but they didn’t see much of the sea until they were getting near Kaimoana and it was getting dark by then.

They were held up, near Kekerengu, when the water in the old truck’s radiator boiled over, again. It was a long, hard haul for a little old housetruck. They waited for a while there, it was good to have a break. When the truck cooled down, Virgil replenished the water with the emergency supply and then refilled that from a creek.

His mum offered to swap vehicles and she’d drive the truck for the rest of the way. It was hard work driving the truck with the manual stick-shift and no power steering. Virgil said thanks but no thanks. He’d started this trek and he’d finish it, he was not a quitter.

They arrived in Kaimoana well after dark. The town, sort-of, snuck-up on them. The scattered farm-houses got closer together and then more concentrated. Next they started passing businesses along the highway – service stations, motels and restaurants, and suddenly they were in the heart of the town.

They didn’t turn off to the main street, as he had expected to, but carried on up the hill and along to their destination – up Churchill Street to Fife Avenue.

The small house was all in darkness, of course. Virgil retrieved the keys, from the letterbox, and they went inside to find a horrendous mess. The Removal Truck guys had off-loaded all of their furniture and possessions and, very kindly, left everything crammed into one room.

“Gee, thanks Guys,” Virgil addressed the mess. “There’s a nice welcome to our new home. What a job this is going to be!”

“We’re not going to worry about it now, Honey. It’s too late. We’ll sort it out tomorrow. We can sleep in the housetruck for tonight.”

“Yeah, good thinking, Mum. We’ll do that. Thank goodness for the old truck.”

“Yes, it does have its uses. We’ll have a coffee and then go to bed.”

“I’m not drinking coffee now. I don’t know how you can do that; I’d be awake all night. I’ll just have a coke.”

“It’s all in the mind you know. There’s caffeine in coke as well, and bulk sugar.”

“Maybe, but it doesn’t keep me awake.”

“Because you’re still just a boy, My Son.”

“Shut up, Mum. I’m just as tall as you.”

“You are! You’re not as old though.”

“You think?”

They closed up the house again and camped-out in the housetruck. It was good to get a reasonably early night. Today had been a long day and tomorrow would be another one.

Funny how travelling can be so tiring when you’re just sitting on your bum all day.

Virgil arose in the morning and took a couple of minutes to check-out their new home in the daylight. It was a small, two-bedroom place, with green weather-boards and a tiled roof and it was one-half of a double unit, which was unusual. It’d be strange knowing that your neighbours were right through the wall and not on their own separate section like they should be.

The street was a small cul-de-sac and the houses were all similar materials and designs. Again, that was unusual for a New Zealand street. Usually every house was very individual.

He figured that it was probably an old state-housing block. The government built thousands of similar houses, back in the 1950’s – mass housing for the masses. Every town in the country had some of them.

Out in the back-yard there was an over-grown vegetable garden, badly in need of attention. That would be a good job for Gran, she was the gardener in the family. The neighbours over the back fence were sheep. They were still going to be living in a small town.

He sighed and went back into the truck for a coffee before the day’s work started.

It’s a lot of bloody work moving into a new place and getting everything set-up the way it should be. They still hadn’t finished in the late afternoon, but they thought that that was enough for one day and it was coming on to dinnertime.

So, they both washed and tidied-up and drove downtown to find somewhere to have a meal, they figured that they’d earned it. There were an awful lot of restaurants, cafes and take-away places for a town of this size.

That was probably because it was a good place to break the journey, more or less halfway between Christchurch and the ferry terminal at Picton, (and vice-versa). Probably every person in the country, and a lot of the tourists, had come along this road at some stage.

They skipped the bigger, newer, places along the highway through the town and went down to the main street to find something more local. Virgil would’ve been happy with Billy’s Burgers; they were cheap and fast, you knew what you were getting and it was supposed to be good for you. Besides, Billy’s Burgers was a Westpoint business, wasn’t it? He liked to support them because his mum came from Westpoint, they might even be related to the owners.

However, his mum decided, no – they weren’t eating at Billy’s Burgers. She wanted something more local than that. Billy’s Burgers were everywhere and they were all much the same. The Craypot Café looked interesting, so they would go there. Kaimoana was known for its seafood. That was what the name of the town meant – Kai, (food), from the sea, (Moana).

Besides, the Craypot Café looked so cute with the outdoor tables on the little wooden balcony looking down over the street. They might even have Whaleburgers, didn’t he know? Whaleburgers were Joel’s favourite, weren’t they?

Virgil said, “Shut up, Mum. What Joel likes is nothing to do with me.”

“Well, it’s a shame. Honey. You and Joel were very close for a while there. I like Joel. He’s living here now you know, in Kaimoana. We’ll probably see him around, it’s not a big town.”

“I might be seeing him but I won’t be talking to him.”

“You could try. You were such good friends!”

“We’re not now. He dumped me, Mum. He bloody dumped me.”

“You’re being silly, My Son.”

“I’m being me. Let’s go eat.”

They went in and ordered, plain old fish and chips, and then sat at a table outside. The sun had gone down behind the hills, but it was still a warm and pleasant evening. The street was quiet, just the occasional car and a few, unhurried, walkers going past. There was definitely a slower pace to life in a small town.

Their meals arrived, brought out to them by a nice-looking boy about Virgil’s age. He and Virgil quietly checked each other out, but not a word was spoken. Virgil was not ready for another relationship and, though he had no way of knowing it, the boy was already spoken for.

They sat quietly eating their meals. Natasha commented that she should have brought a bottle of wine with her.

Virgil protested. “Mum! You can bloody wait until we get home can’t you? You don’t have to have alcohol with everything!”

“Shut up. Don’t be a prude. A bit of wine goes nicely with fish. Everyone knows that.”

“Mum, you and Gran would drink wine with bubble-gum.”

“Eat, Virgil.”

A couple of teenage girls came strolling along the sidewalk below them. Locals, obviously. They were in no hurry to get anywhere. They stopped when one of them did a double-take and she squealed.

“Virgil! Ohmigosh! What are you doing here?”

“Hey Sally,” he smiled. “Nice to see you. We’re just eating here.”

“I can see that, Silly. What are you doing in Kaimoana? You’re a long way from home.”

“Not really. We’re not far at all. We just moved here; we’ll be living in Kaimoana from now on.”

“Really? That’s great. Joel will be delighted.”

“I don’t think so. We’re not friends anymore. He doesn’t want to know me.”

“Oh boy, are you wrong, Boy! He misses you, you know.”

“Doubt it. Or, if he does, he can keep on missing me. We’re over and it was him that said that to me too.”

“We all make mistakes, Virgil. What’s that saying? To err is human but to forgive is divine.”

“I’m not divine then.”

“You’re telling me nothing,” his mother interrupted. “Hello Sally. How are you?”

“I’m good, thanks, Mrs. Cain. I’m always good. I can’t believe that you’re living here. It’s a small world.”

“It certainly is. I’m going to be teaching Manual Classes at the Highschool.”

“Great. Yeah, old Mr. Henderson retired. It’s about time too, he taught my dad.”

“He taught Joel’s dad too. How is Joel, Sally?”

“He’s okay, I guess. He’s a bit of a misery-guts though. He never wants to go anywhere or do anything. He just goes to work and goes home.”

“What about his big new romance?”

“With Cyn? No. That lasted for about 5 minutes. Cyn’s living in Blenheim now and madly in love with her new guy.”

“Dump her, did he?” Virgil scowled.

“I don’t think anyone dumped anybody, they just broke up. I think that they both realised that they’d made a mistake,” Sally replied. “Fern, this is Virgil, he’s a cool kid. Virgil Cain, meet Fern McAuliffe.’

“Hey Fern.”

“Hey. Nice to meet you but we’ve gotta go. Come on Sally, we’ll be late.”

“We’re already late. See you around, Virgil. Bye Mrs. Cain.”

“Goodbye Girls.”

The girls strolled away. They weren’t moving like they were late for anything. Natasha smiled at Virgil.

“See, Honey? You’re going to like it here – there’s two new friends for you already.”

“Yeah, yeah. Eat, Mum.”