Okarito, 4

They sat around the kitchen table, looking at old family photographs. It really was amazing how much Tyler looked like John and also like his grandfather in the few old black and whites that they had of him as a boy.

Eventually, Mrs. Rodden ordered them out of her kitchen while she started preparing the evening meal.

“I don't like having people underfoot when I'm working in the kitchen. Go away. Go for a walk or something.”

“Fine,” said her husband. “Come on, Tyler, we'll sit out the front and you can have another look at that view that you liked so much.”

“Great. But are you sure that I can't help you, Grandmother? I'm a good cook.”

“Maybe you are, but you can help me best by going away. Shoo!”

They went through the house, leaving the doors open on the way, and sat together on the long bench seat on the covered porch out at the front. The afternoon sun had broken through the clouds lighting up the town over the placid water. It looked great.

They both knew that it was the distance that made the town look good. Up close, the commercial buildings were worn and weather-beaten, faded and jaded. The town was getting old and the glory days had gone. They were hanging on, but there wasn't a lot of money there.

There were a lot of empty and boarded-up buildings up and down the main street; Tyler had seen that in his look-around the night before. But, from a distance and shining in the sunshine, the town looked good. He was beginning to see what they meant by 'glorious on a sunny day'.

But, the sunshine was fleeting. The clouds closed in again and the grayness returned. “Nice while it lasted,” Bob Rodden sighed. “Funny thing you know, if there's the least bit of rain on an otherwise sunny day, the weather-office people will always say, it rained in South Westland today. But it doesn't work the other way around, a few minutes' sunshine isn't reported as a sunny day. That is just ignored.”

“But not by you.”

“No. We appreciate all that we get. Oh, oh, here's trouble!” He stood up and looked back through the house. An extremely loud car had pulled in at the back, thumping music pouring from its open windows.

“Damm!” Mr. Rodden stressed. “It's Gordon and company. I told them, I told everyone to stay away from here today to give you some space. Some people always think that the rules don't apply to them.”

Tyler recognised them, it was the same car-full of idiots that he'd seen the night before.

“Damm is right. Who are they?”

“Family, some of them. Gordon and Brinn are our nephews. That makes them some sort of cousins of yours.”

“Cousins? I saw them last night; they're idiots and I don't want to know them.”

“At the moment, I don't want to know them either. Wait here and I'll go and get rid of them.”

Bob went through the house to the back. Another car pulled in, before he even got there. He went out of the door, growling, and chased them all away. He told them that they could, maybe, come back tomorrow to meet the boy, but not today. The kid was shy and they needed some time alone with him.

It was only a couple of minutes before they left and he went back to the front, but when he got there Tyler had gone. There was no sign of him anywhere.

He checked the kitchen but he hadn't gone back there, so he went out the front and down to the water's edge. There were fresh footprints in the sandy gravel there and, when he looked up, Tyler was coming back around the corner at the end of the bay.

“There you are,” he sighed in relief. “I thought we'd lost you.”

“No, not yet. I haven't got my bike. I was just making myself scarce and having a look around. I thought I'd see what's around the corner there.”

“And now you know – nothing. Our nearest neighbours are away down the road, which is one reason why we like it here.”

“That's a good reason, but there's not nothing there. There's old trees, grass and a private little beach. I like it.”

“I imagine you would, there's no people around there.”

“You've got it,” Tyler grinned. “Have your vistors gone?”

“They've gone, but they were your visitors not ours, they came to see you.”

“They're not my visitors. I don't know them and that's good.”

“You think so? The family will all be wanting to meet you. You are family too you know, like it or not.”

“I don't like it. I don't like it one little bit.”

“You're not at all interested in meeting more of your family? You have uncles, aunts and cousins of all sorts around here. Who knows? You might even like them – we do. Blood calls to blood you know.”

“Not for me it doesn't. I had a family, I didn't like them and they didn't like me. I'm not staying here anyway. It's time that I was going if I'm going to get to the shops before they close.”

“I, ahh, I think you're already too late. There's only one supermarket in town and they close at 5 o'clock on the dot. It's 12 minutes to now; even if you were on a motorbike you wouldn't get there in time.”

“Nearly 5 already? I didn't realise it was that late.”

“The day's gone fast, hasn't it? If it's groceries you want, you could get them from a Dairy, there's several of them and they don't close until later. You'd pay Dairy prices though, probably up to double what it'd cost you in the Supermarket.”

“I can't afford that. I'm on a tight budget.”

“Stay the night here then. The spare room is empty and you'd be very welcome.”

“No, I don't think so. Thanks but no thanks. I like my own space. Also, the tent was packed away wet, 2 days ago. I need to put it up and air it out before it goes mouldy on me.”

“You wouldn't want that to happen. How about we hang it in the rafters in the barn? You could get it properly dry in there and, in the meantime, have a good night's sleep in a good bed..”

“In the house do you mean? No thanks, there's no need for that. I'll sleep in my tent. Could I put it up under the trees around in the next bay? They'll keep it more-or-less dry, if it doesn't rain too much in the night.”

“But you will stay here for the night?”

“Just tonight, yes.”

“Good then. Put the tent where you like, but why not put it up under the verandah roof outside the barn? It won't get rained on there and, hopefully, will dry out a bit by the morning.”

“I will put it up there then. Thanks.”

“You're very welcome. I do wish that you'd come and sleep in the house, but camping near it is the next best thing, I guess. Tyler, this is our home, it's a family home and you are family. You're more than welcome here.”

“Thanks, Granddad. I'll stay tonight, in my tent, which is more than I was going to. Tomorrow, I'm gone. I've got a long road ahead of me.”

“You have, a very long road on a bike, but at least we've got tonight. You will eat with us, won't you? Your grandmother is probably cooking enough for 6 hungry boys.”

“How would you know that?”

“I don't, but that's what I'm guessing. We've been together a long time, nearly 40 years, and we know each other well.”

“You get along after 40 years?”

“We get along very well. Your grandmother was my best friend when we were teenagers, and she still is – better than ever.”

“That's nice! Everyone should have someone like that.”

“Anyone can, but it takes work. I hope that, one day, you'll be able to say the same thing.”

“Me? Not likely! I'll be growing old alone.”

“You'll most likely change your mind. Most people do.”

“I'm not most people.”

“Yes, we've already seen that. You don't have a girlfriend then?”

“Me?” he laughed. “Definitely not and I never will.”

“You don't know that. A fine-looking boy like you, I'm sure you'll find someone.”

“Not very likely when I'm not looking and even if I did find someone it wouldn't be a girl because I'm queer.”

“You are what?”

“Queer. Gay. Homosexual. Whatever you want to call it. That's who I am. Do you want me to go now?”

“No, I don't! Are you sure that you're gay?”

“I'm sure. I know who I am.”

“Okay, you're gay, but you're still our grandson and that's all that matters. Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No, I don't and I won't.”

“Maybe one day.”

“I won't. I'll get my bike and put the tent up now.”

He wheeled the bike and trailer around to the front of the barn and got busy setting up camp. His grandfather sat and watched him for a while, but he obviously didn't need help and he wasn't talking, so he left him to it and went inside.

Tyler had the tent up and everything sorted out and was sitting on the grass in front of it, looking out across the water, when both of his grandparents came out of the house.

“All right there, Tyler?” his grandmother asked. “Is there anything you need? More blankets, perhaps? It's going to be a cold night.”

“I'm fine, thanks. I've got a good quality sleeping bag. A warm bed is my biggest luxury,” he grinned.

“Could we? Would you mind? I, ah,” his grandfather stammered.

Grandmother was much more to the point. “Can we look inside, Tyler? We'd like to see how you live.”

“Yes. Of course I don't mind.” He opened the front flaps of the tent to show them the inside.

They had to bend low to look in, it was only a small 2-man hiker's tent. Everything inside was neat and tidy. There was no mess or clutter, just an almost military orderliness.

“Very nice,” Mrs. Rodden said. “Do you always keep it so tidy?”

“I do. There's a place for everything and everything in its place. It's only small so there's no room for confusion and I need to be able to find everything in the dark.

This is my home, where I live. Everything is good quality stuff, it cost me a fortune but was worth it. Quality is cheaper in the long term and now I can live comfortably and cheaply.”

“How long have you lived like this”

“A few months. My journey is just beginning.”

“Ah, beginnings,” his grandfather sighed. “I envy you, Lad. This is an exciting time in your life.”

“Well I don't envy him, said Mrs Rodden. “I don't envy him at all.”

“You don't? Why not?”

“Because, Bob, he's living alone, completely and totally alone. I've never known anything but large families around me and that's the way I like it. Tyler, the life you're planning sounds like a nightmare to me.”

“It doesn't to me. I guess we're just different, Grandmother. My nightmare would be in a family.”

“Yes, we are different. But why are you so anti-family? You must have had some bad experiences there.”

“I have.”

“Do you want to talk about it? It might help to talk it out.”

Okarito, 3

The man, Bob Rodden, was wearing a suit, but she was in more casual clothes. They looked to be aged about 50 to 60 and had gray hair, thinning in his case.

“Can I help you?” Tyler looked up.

“Tyler? Tyler Rodden?” the lady said.

“Yes, that's me. Who are you?”

“I think that we are your grandparents, Son,” the man replied.

“You what? You can't be. I've never been here before.”

“Maybe not, but your name is Rodden and your father's name was John. Our son was John Rodden and you are the spitting image of him.”

“That's right!” Amy and another waitress came over. “John was in my class at school. I had a huge crush on him for years, but he was never interested, unfortunately. He had darker hair, but the blue eyes and everything else were just like yours – identical! It's amazing.”

“It is, really amazing,” Mrs Rodden agreed. “You are our John's son. You must be!”

“His son? This is too weird! I never knew my father. I grew up with just my mother and her parents, my grandparents. They died.”

“Everyone gets two sets of grandparents you know,” Mr Rodden nodded and he searched through his wallet. “There's a photo here somewhere, I think. Yes! Here it is. Not very big I'm afraid. Have a look at this.”

He passed a photo to Tyler who looked, and looked again. “That's me!” He exclaimed. “How'd you get a photo of me in your wallet?”

“It's been there for years. That's not you, that is our son, John, the son we lost.”

“Right!” Mrs. Rodden agreed. “That was taken on the day of his Senior School Ball, John was just 16 then.”

“He was?” Tyler studied the pic again. “I'm 16. Well,” he looked at the policeman, “I'm nearly 16. Your son, John Rodden. Wow, this is so weird!”

“Yes, it's strange,” she agreed. “Strange in a good way. After all these years, it's like our boy has come home.”

“Whoah, hang on there!” He put the photo down and sat back looking at it. “Okay, it's true. I've seen old photos of my father, his name was John, and that's him – I think. But, I'm not him, I'm me and I don't belong here. When we've finished here I'll go to the Supermarket and get my supplies, and then I'll be going.”

“Wait on,” Mr. Rodden said. “What's the big hurry, do you have to be somewhere?”

“No, I don't have to be anywhere. That's the whole point of travelling alone. I'm free to go where I want and do what I want and I don't have to answer to anyone in the world.”

“If you don't have to hurry, why don't you stay here for a while? We'd love to get to know you and you could meet the rest of the family too.”

“Rest of the family?”

“Yes, we had a lot of kids, eight of them. They're all grown up and left home now but most of them live around here and they've got kids of their own. Also, your grandmother and I both come from big families and a lot of them live here too. You've got a huge family that you don't know about – Aunts, Uncles and cousins, dozens of cousins!”

“Eww!” The boy shuddered. “No thanks! Family is a dirty word as far as I'm concerned. The less I have to do with any of them, the better.”

“You've had bad experiences with family?”

“I have and I don't want any more.”

“But you wouldn't. Okay, we're not perfect, nobody is, but on the whole, your family here are good people. You'd like them if you got to know them.”

“Not going to happen.”

“No? That's a shame, but no-one's going to force you. Won't you, at least, come and visit with us? We're your grandparents, you are our lost grandson and we'd love to get to know you.”

“Well . . “

“No-one else, just us – for a start anyway. Won't you?”

“No thanks,” Tyler shrugged.

But then he looked at his grandmother. She said nothing, just stood looking at him and tears ran down her cheeks. She shook her head and turned to walk away.

Then he spoke. “All right then. If you really want me to, I'll stay for today. But just with you, no-one else.”

“No-one at all?” his grandfather replied.

“No-one!”

“Okay, agreed. But I must warn you, our home is always an open house and they'll all be curious about you. We'll try to keep them all way, but I can't guarantee it.”

“Okay, you try then. If your house fills up with people, I'll be gone.”

“We'll try not to let that happen. Let's go home, shall we?”

“Your home, not mine. Is it far? My bike and gear are out back of the police station.”

“Bike? What sort of bike? If it's at the police station it'll be safe. No-one's going to steal it from there.”

“That's what I thought and that's why I left it there. It's just a pushbike and trailer, but it's got all my gear on it, everything I own. I'll need my stuff if I'm staying here.”

Mrs. Rodden smiled and said, “Yes, bring your gear. We live over the river, across the bridge and a couple of kilometers away. Go back to the station with Jeffery, get your bike and we'll meet you there and show you the way.”

“Right. We'll do that then, but isn't anyone going to work today?”

“Not now,” Bob Rodden smiled. “Work can wait a while. Today we've met a lost grandson and that's much more important.

The Roddens, in their old car, ambled along the road and they led the boy on a bike out to their home. They lived across the water on the other side of the lagoon from the town.

Their family home was a big old, rambling, single-storied farm house with a verandah around three sides of it. They'd lived there for many years and had raised their large family there. The property had been in the family for over a hundred years, they thought.

It was no longer a farm though, it was just a hobby-farm now with only about 15 acres of mostly scrubby land. A couple of paddocks were leased to horse-mad girls and the rest was, roughly, kept under control by a few sheep and dozens of hens and ducks.

They pulled in and parked under the car-port at the back of the house. Tyler stopped and stood astride his bike, looking around. His grandfather got out of the car and beckoned him forward.

“Bring your bike in here, under the roof and out of the weather. It's going to rain again by the look of it.”

Tyler looked up at the looming dark clouds and nodded in agreement. He pushed the bike in under cover, next to the car. “Does it ever stop raining around here?” He said, more to himself than anything else.

“Sometimes it does,” his grandmother smiled. “We do live in a rain-forest and it gets a lot of watering, but when the sun does shine there's nowhere like it. You'll see and you'll agree. Everyone does.”

“Maybe. I don't plan on sticking around here for long, I'm just passing through. I'm looking forward to getting through the pass and into Otago. I hear it's much drier over there.

“It is. That's why it looks like a desert.”

“When you've been biking for days in constant rain, a desert sounds good.”

“Maybe it does, but you'd soon get tired of that too, especially in a hiker's tent. Here you can relax and it doesn't matter what the weather's doing outside.”

“I guess not, until I leave. How much land do you have here?”

“Just 15 acres, but some of it is leased out.”

“Fifteen acres? You're not a farmer then.”

“I'm not. I'm an accountant, I work for the local council.”

“Oh, a government man.”

“Local government, but I have nothing to do with the politics, I'm employed to look after their finances”

“And he does it very well too,” said Mrs. Rodden. “Come inside and we'll have a cup of tea, or coffee if you prefer.”

“Coffee would be good, thank you. Strong and black, I didn't get much sleep last night.”

“Coffee it is then. Walk this way.”

The boy and the man followed her inside and they sat in the big old kitchen while she fussed around preparing drinks for them all. The room was old, that showed in the wood panelling and the high ceiling. It looked lived in, but it was clean and bright, uncluttered and tidy. It was a nice room.

The solid wood table and chairs looked like they were old too, certainly older than him and maybe even as old as the grandparents. His grandparents! That was a turn-up for the books, he never expected this.

He'd never known the other side of his family and never wanted to. The family that he'd known, his mother and her parents and siblings, were more than enough. If all family were like them, he was better off not knowing them. So, what was he doing here again?

“Welcome, Tyler,” his grandfather sat smiling at him. “Welcome to our home. Your father grew up here, so did I and my father did as well. Roddens have lived here for over a hundred years and now, at last, you've come home too.”

“This is not my home.” Tyler was not smiling. “It might be yours, but it's not mine. A couple of hours ago we'd never heard of each other and tomorrow we'll just be memories to each other.”

“Unless you change your mind.”

“Not likely. What makes you so sure that we're related? I mean, there's the name and everything, but maybe I'm just a super-distant cousin with some of the same genes.”

“Some of the same genes?” said Mrs Rodden. “I don't think so! Come through to the lounge and we'll show you.”

The kitchen was in the back of the house and the living-room was at the front. It was a big welcoming room but Tyler didn't even see it. He walked in, went straight across to the front window and stood there entranced.

“Tyler?” Mrs. Rodden prodded.

He didn't look around, just stood looking out. “Wow. Spooky!”

Mrs. Rodden sat on the carpet searching through the old video tapes in the TV cabinet. Mr. Rodden stood next to the spell-bound boy. “Like the view do you? We like it too, but I wouldn't call it spooky. What makes you say that?”

“It's spooky because I know it. The flat water out there, the old town over at the other side and the snow-capped mountains in the background, I know them all. I dream about this exact same view, lots of times. Have I been here before? I must have, when I was a baby or something.”

“No, you haven't, as far as I know. We'd never heard of you until this morning.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“How do I remember this then? There's a barn, isn't there? A big old red-painted barn with an open verandah across the front of it. It's around at that side of the house, near the water.”

“Yes, there is, sort of. It is red but it's badly in need of painting. You must've seen it out of the side of your eyes on the way in. Deja vu is the mind playing tricks on us. Very recent memories, like just minutes ago, can seem like old memories sometimes.”

“You think so? There's a boat in there too, isn't there?”

“We've got a few boats, dinghies, a row-boat and the kid's canoes, but they're not in the barn, they're in the boat-shed on the water's edge.”

“There's a boat in the barn, an old boat.”

“There is! My grandfather's old boat is stored away in there. It hasn't been in the water for many years but it used to be the family's main transport, back before they had cars.”

“It's not very big, long and skinny with open sides and a white canvas roof. The rest is painted dark-green and it's steam-powered with a boiler in the middle and a tall chimney and there's a paddle-wheel at the back of it.”

“That's right! That is exactly what the Princess is like. This is too weird. Oh, you're having us on, aren't you? You must have come around checking the place out when we weren't here.”

Tyler stiffened and he lost the smile. “You can think what you like. I told you that I've never been here before and I don't tell lies. Thank you for the coffee, it was nice to see your home. I think I'll go now.”

“Go? Please don't, not yet. You've just got here and there's so much that we want to show you. Look, I've found the tape I was looking for. Sit down for a minute and I'll play it for you. Bob, shut the drapes please.”

The TV flickered into life as Mr. Rodden closed the heavy drapes and shut the day out. Tyler sank down to sit on the couch as he watched the screen. The video started with a boy, in the distance, standing on the roof of a shed. He fell forward and bounced up again, and again and again. The camera moved forward and around a corner and the boy could be seen doing back-flips and somersaults on a big trampoline.

Finally, he flopped, bounced a little and lay face-down stretched out on the tramp. The camera moved in closer and focussed on the prone boy. His feet and long, tanned, legs were smooth and bare. His shorts were dark-coloured and his t-shirt was black, as was his medium-length hair.

He sat up and grinned at the camera showing the first clear shot of his face and Tyler sat staring with his mouth hanging open.

The clip finished, the screen went dark and Tyler sighed. “Oh, wow. If I didn't know better, I'd swear that that was me – my face on your TV!”

“Exactly,” Mrs. Rodden nodded. “But it wasn't you, that was our son, John at age 15. Looked a little like you, didn't he?”

“A little? He looked exactly like me, apart from the hair. That was my face entirely!”

“It surely was. That's what everyone is seeing. Now you know what we saw when we walked into that restaurant and looked at you. Do you still say that you might not be closely related?”

“No, Grandmother, I don't. I don't think there's any doubt at all.”

“Well, good. Neither do we. Stay there and we'll watch some more of the tape. The next piece was when he was getting ready for his Senior Ball at Highschool.”

They sat in silence and watched until the end, it didn't take long and was an obviously amateur effort. The clip finished, Mr. Rodden reopened the drapes on the window. Tyler quietly watched him, and then looked at his grandmother. She was sitting crying quietly.

“Grandmother, are you all right?”

“Yes.” She pulled herself together. “I'm fine. Sorry. I just get overcome when I look at that – our boy, our beautiful boy, so young and free, happy and laughing. Enjoy your youth Tyler, it doesn't last long.”

“I'll try,” he nodded. “I never knew my father, my mother was a total waste of space, but I did love my grandparents. We lived with them until they died and that's when it all went to hell.” He paused and looked at the dead tv screen, then continued, “I've got no time at all for family. The ones I knew gave me nothing but grief. But . . . I think that I'd like to know my other grandparents – if you want me of course.”

“Oh Tyler!” his grandfather replied. “Of course we want you. There's nothing we'd like more.”

Tyler stood and faced him and he teared up. “Granddad!”

“Oh, Boy. Beautiful Boy.” He put a hand on Tyler's shoulder, then drew him into an embrace. Mrs. Rodden joined in and all three stood hugging and crying.

Tyler had come home.

Okarito, 2

He drove the short distance back to the police station and they went inside.

Jeffrey led the way in and Tyler followed. The door was closed but not locked.“Don't you lock the door when you're not here?”

“Not the front door, no. There's no need to, no-one's stupid enough to break into a police station.”

“I wouldn't bet on that.”

“No? Neither would I, come to think of it. Take your coat off, hang it up there and it'll be dry when you're ready to leave.”

“Sounds good.” Tyler shrugged his way out of the wet coat. He pulled the hood off his head and Jeffery got his first good look at him.There wasn't much to him, 'skinny as a rake', as the saying goes.

It was funny, he didn't know why but he'd expected him to have dark hair. He didn't. He had dark eyebrows but his hair was straight and straw-coloured. He had a real thatch of it. His eyes were a piercing blue, why did they look familiar?

He'd never seen this kid before in his life. It had to be just because he reminded him of someone; but who?

“Come, sit by the heater and I'll get us a drink.”

It was nice to have some pleasant company for once. The nights got long and time dragged when nothing was happening. Usually, when he did have company, they were drunk, stoned and/or misbehaving.

Tyler seemed like a nice-enough kid. Quiet and inoffensive. Now that he could see what he looked like, he was a good-looking boy, but very young. 'Legally an adult?' No way! This was a kid, a schoolboy. There was a thought, why wasn't this boy in school, it wasn't holiday time again already, was it?

Jeffery was alone in the toilet when that thought struck him. He finished, zipped-up and hurried back to the main office to question the boy. However, when he saw him, he didn't have the heart to – poor little bugger was ¾ asleep already.

“Oh well.” He had plenty of paperwork to keep him busy anyway. The kid obviously needed his sleep.

He stood looking down at him. “Come on. Come through to the back.”

“To the back?” He looked up.

“Yep. You can lie down on a bunk out there.”

“Oh, good! Thank you.” He rose wearily to his feet and plodded along behind him.

There were a couple of cells at the back of the building – bare concrete floors, concrete-block walls on 3 sides and a grid of sturdy steel bars along the front walls and doors. There was nothing much in them, just a concrete toilet pedestal and a couple of simple bunk-beds, built-in of course.

Tyler stopped in the doorway. “Are you locking me up? I thought you said I wasn't in trouble.”

“You're not in trouble, Boy, and, no, I'm not locking you up. It's nothing fancy, we're not running a hotel here, but there's no-one else around, it's all quiet back here, so I thought you could lie down here for a sleep if you like. I'll be out at the front desk, I've got some paperwork to catch-up on. I will leave the doors open and you can wander out when you're ready, okay?”

“Well, yeah, okay I guess. I mean, a cop wouldn't lie to me, would he?”

“No!” Jeffrey laughed. “I suppose that some might, but not me. Trust me, okay?”

“Yeah. I am way tired and that bed looks good to me.”

“It's not that good, but it'll do the job. Lie down and I'll leave you to it. I'll turn the lights out but leave the door open so you can see.”

Tyler lay on a bunk, closed his eyes and relaxed. Jeffrey thought that he was asleep already, but then he sighed and said, “This is SO good! Thanks.”

“Yes, well, you must need it. Have a good rest and I'll see you later.”

“Much later,” Tyler mumbled.

Jeffrey turned off the room lights and went out, leaving the door to the brightly-lit hallway open. He went back to the main office, to the desk and the work that was waiting there for him.

A couple of hours later, at almost 5am, he received a call and he had to go out. A car full of kids, probably drunk, had clipped the railing on a bridge, and spun off the road, through a fence and bogged-down in a paddock. They were off the main road, a couple of k's north of the town.

He was almost out the door when he remembered the boy sleeping out at the back. He went back to the cells, intending to wake the kid and put him outside. He obviously couldn't leave him there alone in the station.

However, it was still dark outside, dark, windy and wet. It was a miserable night. He looked down at the blond boy sleeping on the cell-block bed. He looked so young and innocent! He wouldn't be, of course, none of them were, but he looked like an angel sleeping there.

Jeffrey didn't have the heart to wake him up and put him out in the weather, so he quietly closed and locked the cell door without waking him. That'd keep him there and safe from trouble if he happened to wake before he got back.

He left him there and hurried out to go and deal with those larrikins. He shouldn't be too long, he hoped not, his shift finished at 7am. With a bit of luck, the boy wouldn't even wake before he came back and opened the door.

Murphy's Law kicked in, naturally, and things went wrong, as they always did. Jeffrey was not back by 7am, it was well after 8 by the time he returned. The driver of the car, the alleged driver, was stone-cold sober, surprisingly.

The kids had a few bumps and bruises, but nothing serious. Shame, in a way, it might've taught the little sods a lesson. They were a bit shaken up, but trying not to show it and trying to laugh it off. Also, of course, they were all trying to act sober when the cop showed up, but they obviously were not.

Jeffrey struggled to keep a stern face while he questioned them and recorded their details, which was all a lot of nonsense, he knew who they all were. They all thought they were so clever fooling dumb Mr. Plod. What they didn't know was that he'd seen it all a hundred times before and, also, not that long ago he was one of them – a smart-mouth kid and not always perfect.

More or less, satisfied at last that there really wasn't anything to charge them with, (though he still wasn't sure who really was the driver), he let them go with a telling off and a warning to behave themselves in the future.

“Time you all found something better to do with your time and, if you go hassling strangers in the main street again, you'll be sorry.”

“What? You . . How do you know about that?” Graeme Stokes protested.

“You'd be surprised what I know, Mr. Stokes. Hawkins, you come with me and I'll drop you at the hospital to get those cuts seen to. The rest of you can start walking. You've got a long walk home – your fault, not mine.”

“Aww! Deputy Dawg, can't you take us? You've got room.”

“No I can't. Regulations don't allow it. You walk. You'd better stop in and see Paul de Groot, he'll be in his milking shed by now. You can tell him what you've done to his fence and what you're going to do about it.

If you ask nicely, he might bring a tractor and pull your car out of there. Now go. Hawkins, you stay, get in the car, front passenger seat, and try not to bleed over everything.”

They grumbled, but they weren't willing to cross him; they started walking. Jeffrey sighed and grinned when he slipped back into the warmth of the car. He buckled-up, made sure that the kid had too, and drove back to town and the local cottage hospital.

He intended just dropping the boy off there, but that didn't happen. His old Aunt Felicity was there, waiting to see a doctor, so she had to tell him all about her troubles. He didn't want to know, females' plumbing problems repulsed him, but she gave him no choice.

When he finally got away and escaped to the car outside, it was broad daylight. What was the time? He got in and looked at the dashboard clock. Whoah! Nearly 8am.

His relief, the day-shift, would've been at the station for over an hour already. How were they getting on with his 'Stranger in the Night'? He hurried back to the station.

The kid's bike, with a two-wheeled trailer, was still there, out at the back, so that was a good sign. He went inside.

Ron, on the front desk, looked up and said, “Well! About time too. What on earth did you leave us out in the cells?”

“The kid you mean? He's just a boy passing through town. I found him out in the weather and brought him back here for the shelter. Why? Has he been giving you trouble?”

“Not trouble exactly. The kid's weird. He hasn't said a word to anyone, but, Man! If looks could kill! Why did you lock him up if he's done nothing wrong? That is one seriously pissed-off boy you've got back there.”

“He's done nothing wrong. I was just making sure that it stayed that way. I had to go out, he was sleeping and I didn't want to wake him and put him out into that weather, so I just pulled the door shut. Well, I was leaving him here, alone in the station, while he was shut in the cell he couldn't wander around and get into mischief. I'd better go and make peace with him.”

“Yeah? Good luck with that! I think you'll find that he hates your guts.”

“I hope not, but he wouldn't be the first and probably won't be the last. See you soon.”

He took the keys and went back to the cell block. He walked in there and the boy, Tyler, looked up and glared at him before swinging around and facing the other way.

“Hey!” Jeffery grinned. “Mad at me, aren't you? Look, Tyler, I'm sorry – okay? Things didn't go as I planned and I got held up. I thought I'd be back before the day-shift started and well before you woke up. I was wrong and I'm sorry.”

As he spoke he unlocked and opened the cell door. “There now. Come on out.”

Tyler turned back. “You locked me in here and you said that you wouldn't do that. Why did you?”

“Look, I know I shouldn't have. I had to go out to an accident and I was in a hurry. It was either wake you up and put you outside or to shut you in safely until I got back. I didn't want to wake you and I thought I'd be back sooner.”

“But you weren't! I've done nothing and those goons out there don't believe that. They think I'm a criminal or something.”

“I know, I'm sorry. I should've left them a note but I was in a hurry and didn't think of it. I stuffed up.”

“You did. Thanks!” Tyler snapped. He came out of the cell and Jeffery tried to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but was shrugged off. “Don't touch me!”

“Okay, okay – sorry,” he stepped back. “Let me make it up to you.”

“How?”

“My shift has finished and I usually have breakfast in the Diner before I go home to bed. Come with me and I'll buy you breakfast as an apology.”

“I'm not hungry.”

“Not hungry? Yes you are, of course you are. You said last night that you're out of food and you were waiting for the shops to open so you could buy some. Besides, you're a teenager and I've never yet met a teenager who wasn't a bottomless stomach on legs. Come on – come eat with me and let's be friends.”

“Friends . . well, maybe. Thanks, but you're buying. I can't afford to eat in restaurants.”

“Fair enough. I can afford it and I'll pay. I invited you.”

“All right then, but just breakfast, I'm not going home with you. We eat, and then we say goodbye. I'll stock-up on supplies, and then I'm leaving town, alone.”

“Okay, fine. Come through to the front and meet the guys.”

“I've already met them; they think I'm a crim.”

“They're just being careful, it comes with the job. Dealing with bad eggs all the time makes you hard.”

“Didn't with you.”

“Oh, I can be hard, but we've already met and I like you.”

“You like me? You don't even know me. Nobody likes me.”

“Maybe you don't give them a chance. You're right, I don't know you, but I like what I see so far.”

“You like what you see. Are you coming on to me?”

“No, I'm not coming on to you. I'm trying to be honest. I think you're interesting and, probably, a good kid. Come on through here.”

He introduced Tyler to the two policemen at the front, apologised again for the confusion, and they went out for breakfast. As they were leaving, Jeffery looked back. “By the way, the pushbike and trailer out there are Tylers'. He'll be back for them soon.”

It was still windy outside but it had, mostly, stopped raining. Tyler put his now dry oversize coat back on.

“You shouldn't have bothered,” Jeffrey said. “We're not going far, it's just around the corner.”

They went around the corner, across the street and into a small, modernish eatery in an old building. 'Dinah's Diner', the sign on the front proclaimed. Inside, they sat opposite each other in a booth opposite the long counter and next to the front window. The morning rush was over but the diner was still reasonably busy, about half full.

“”Hello Constable. You're late today. What're you having, the usual?”

“That's Senior Constable, but yeah. 'Morning Amy. I was held up a bit, but that's good, it's not so busy in here now. I'll have two Full English breakfasts, I've got a guest today.”

“So I see,” she nodded. “He's a guest and not a prisoner then.”

“He's not a prisoner. Tyler, this is Amy, my favourite waitress. Amy – Tyler.”

“Hello, Tyler.”

He was emerging from the coat again. He pushed the hood back and smiled up at her.

“Whoah!” Amy's half-formed smile froze and she actually went pop-eyed for an instant. “Tyler. What is your second name?”

“Umm, John. I'm Tyler John.”

“John? But what's your surname, I meant?”

“Oh, sorry. It's Rodden, Tyler John Rodden.”

“And John is after your father?”

“I guess so. His name was John, but I never knew him.”

“Shame. But, welcome to Okarito. Do your grandparents know that you're here?”

“I don't have any grandparents, they died a couple of years ago.”

“They did? But . . they. . . you – Oh! Of course, your mother's parents.”

“Yes, I used to live with them.”

“And now you've come to live here?”

“No, I haven't. I'm just passing through, I'll be gone by lunchtime. Well, if we've finished breakfast, I will.”

“Right. Sorry. Two Full English breakfasts coming up.” Amy went back to the kitchen area behind the counter.

“What is this breakfast, tea and toast?”

“No!” Jeffrey laughed. “Well, there is tea and toast, or coffee if you prefer, but it's a Full English. That means, fruit juice, cereal, toast, and then the main - sausage, bacon and egg, baked beans, fried mushrooms, grilled tomatoes and hash browns.”

“Sounds like a lot.”

“Yeah, but small portions. It's a great breakfast and it sets you up for the day.”

“Do you eat here everyday?”

“Not every day, but most days. I usually come in after the night shift, and then go home and sleep for the day. I live alone.”

“Yeah?” Tyler nodded. “So do I. I live alone and I like it like that.”

“It's got its good points, I suppose. So, where are you going to on your bike?”

“Just touring. I told you, didn't I? I'm going down the west coast to the bottom, and then back up the east coast to the top.”

“Right. And then, where will you settle down?”

“I'm not sure. Probably in North Auckland, but I'm open to suggestions.”

“You could stop here. We've got a great little town here and there's always room for more.”

“Here, in this place? I don't think so! No offence, but this town is like the middle of nowhere.”

“Hey! We like it. I was born here and I'll probably die here.”

“Good for you. Umm, don't you get many visitors here?”

“What do you mean? We get plenty of visitors. Our lagoon is famous and it's a well-known surfing area. Why would you think that we don't get visitors?”

“The waitress and those other ladies are still looking and talking about me.”

“They are?” Jeffrey looked around. “Maybe they're just admiring a fine-looking boy.”

“Me? Give over!”

“Well you are. Ah, here we go. Thank you, Amy.”

The waitress unloaded the food on to their table. “So, Tyler John Rodden, you're not stopping here then?”

“I'm not. Once I've got some supplies, I'll be on my way.”

“You're not even going to have a look around?”

“I had a look around last night. I wasn't impressed.”

“No? Well it was dark and it was raining.”

“Jeffrey interrupted, “You should see the place on a sunny day, it's spectacular then, all green and clean.”

Tyler looked out of the window and shook his head. “By the time you get a sunny day, I'll be well-gone.”

“That's a shame,” Amy said. “You won't see our town at its best.”

“No, but whatever. It all means nothing to me.”

“We like it!” She walked away in a huff, but had to come back to ask if they wanted tea or coffee. (They both asked for coffees.)

His cooked breakfast arrived and Tyler started with relish. “Great! Thanks. I'm really starving.”

“You won't be for long. Get that down you, Lad,” Amy smiled again.

“Hey!” Jeffrey protested as she walked away. “I'm hungry too you know!”

“Patience, Jeffrey,. It's coming.”

Jeffrey's main arrived and he started on it before Tyler had finished his. Tyler paused in his eating and said, “Are you gay?”

“What? No! No, I am not,” Jeffrey choked on his meal. “Why are you asking me that?”

“They're still over there talking about us. I thought that maybe they're thinking you've picked me up.”

“They can think what they like,” Jeffrey looked around. “But they'd be wrong.”

“Okay, okay. I don't care if you are. I'm gay but I'm not looking for any hook-ups.”

“You're what? Gay?”

“Yeah,” Tyler shrugged. “Some people are you know.”

“I know that. But you?”

“Yes, me. Damm! Now there's more people looking at me.”

“More people?”

“Yeah. That couple just came in off the street, they're talking to Amy and now they're all staring.”

“Are you sure you're not being paranoid? Okay, you're right. They are staring at you.”

“Who are those people?” Tyler drank some coffee. “Do you know them?”

“Yes, sure I know them. Oh, Man! This is weird. That's Bob and Barbara Rodden, are you sure you don't know them?”

“Never seen them in my life. Their name is Rodden?”

“Yes, it is. Mr and Mrs Rodden.” Jeffrey stared at him as well. “I thought you looked familiar.”

“Familiar? I'm a total stranger here.”

“Well, maybe you are.” Jeffrey stood up as the middle-aged couple came across to them.

Okarito - Prologue & Pt.1

(Okay, let's get this show on the road!

Don't ask what Okarito means, i haven't a clue &, apparently, neither does anyone else)



Okarito - Prologue

Deep in the wilds of New Zealand's South Island West Coast, about 130 kilometers south of Hokitika, 13 km off the main highway and on the edge of the sea, there is a tiny 'town' at the southern end of a large lagoon.

The Okarito Lagoon, by the Tasman Sea at the mouth of the Okarito River, is New Zealand's largest unmodified wetland and is home to many species of native birds including the rare and beautiful Kotuku, or White Heron.

Maori have known, visited and hunted in the area for many, many years – probably since about 600AD. The first European visitor was Thomas Brunner who passed through, walking along the beaches, during his epic journey of exploraion in 1847. Gold was discovered there in1865 and a town of about 1500 people sprang up almost overnight. An additional 2500 people were at the 3 Mile and 5 Mile mining sites.

The main street of this classic 'Wild West' town was lined with over 30 stores and hotels, a court house, gaol, blacksmith's shop, carenter, undertaker, school and the harbourmaster of the West Coast's 3rd largest port. The buildings were all on the east, inland, side of the street; the wild beachfront was on the west.

For over a decade there were regular services sailing directly to Australia. In the absence of any roads, the fastest way to travel to the Capital, in Wellington, was to catch a boat over to Melbourne and back.

The goldrush declined rapidly and so did the population. By the 1880's there were only 12 families and 2 hotels left. The school closed in 1946 and so did the port at about the same time. The instant birth and rapid decline of the town was an all too common theme in the boom and bust years of the West Coast gold rushes. Stafford, Goldsborough, Charleston, Lyell, Ross and many others, once sizable towns vanished into history when their people moved on to the next El Dorado.

Some towns survived and the people stayed, finding employment in other, newer, industries like coal mining and saw milling etc. Most of the towns of today were founded in the heady years of the 1860's and 70's when the area's population boomed.

Okarito was not one of the success stories. It hasn't quite died and is now home to about 30 permanent residents and a floating population of visitors and holidaymakers. But – what if? What if history had taken a slightly different course and Okarito survived and continued to struggle on into the 21st century?

Life could've been different there.





“It was a dark and stormy night.” No joke, it was. Seriously dark, a tree had fallen and taken out the lines cutting off the power in the town, and seriously stormy, it was blowing trees over.

A few lights were burning in buildings along the front street facing the beach, but not many, and those that were, were dim and feeble. People lived without electricity until not so long ago – that really must've been in the dark ages.

A lone figure, wrapped in an over-sized padded and hooded coat, stood in the sparse shelter of a storefront, looking along the dark and quiet street. The coat was a garish orange colour and it was not really a raincoat – hoods of raincoats are not trimmed with fake purple fur, and this one was.

There's a line in the bible, vaguely remembered from Sunday School days, something about going forth and preaching the gospel 'even unto the ends of the earth'.

'I wonder if they've got here yet, because this surely is the end of the earth'.

The soggy weather-beaten little town was as far away from anywhere as it was possible to get in New Zealand, which is a relatively empty country anyway, and New Zealand is a long, long way from anywhere else. Why on earth would anyone want to live here? It'd be a good place to put the Restaurant at the End of the Universe – hard to see much else it'd be good for.

Some people did live here though, as strange as that seemed. A car was slowly crawling along the street towards him. He stayed where he was, out of the rain, watching it coming. The car went past; it was quite full, there were 5 or 6 heads in there, all looking at him.

They stopped, and then backed-up. Windows wound down and a bright light shone in his face but that was invisible, hidden in the recesses of the fur-trimmed hood.

“Hey you! What are ya?”

“Come outta there so we can have a look at ya? You a guy or a girl?”

“Gotta be a girl in a coat like that.”

“Butt-ugly whatever it is if it's hiding away like that. Hey, Ugly!”

“Yeah, Ugly. Ugly! You, Ugly, let's see ya.”

“What're you doing here? Looting? Piss off out of our town.”

The orange coat clad figure turned his back on them which infuriated the characters in the car.

“Hey! You deaf or something? Ugly!” One protested but the driver moved on when he saw a police car coming towards them.

He accelerated and disappeared around a corner up the street.

Midnight in Okarito, almost. Senior Constable Jeffery Ensor drove slowly along the main street, eyes flicking to and fro, checking, patrolling from the comfort of the car. That surely beat walking the beat, out in the shitty weather, like they used to do in the bad old days

The town was quiet of course. Only fools and idiot policemen would be out and about on a night like this. The weather was horrible out there, not really a major storm, but horrible nonetheless. Someone was about and about, a car sped away and disappeared around the corner into Gladstone Street.

As he got closer, he saw that there was someone out there, on the sidewalk in the sparse shelter outside the Prince Albert Hotel. Who? It was impossible to tell. Maybe a stranger, maybe not. All Jeffery could see was the orange coat, sneakered feet and a bit of the face inside the fur-trimmed hood which was pulled up over the head and closed tight around the face. Even the hands were covered by the over-long sleeves.

This was a stranger, but it reminded Jeffery of someone? Ah, yes! Kenny, the coat-wrapped South Park kid who was always getting killed – that's who he was like.

He carried on to the end of the street, his beat, leaving the Kenny figure standing there, by the Prince Albert. When he back-tracked and returned, the figure was still there, like a coat-clad statue, it hadn't moved.

There was no-one else at all out in the street, not surprisingly. Jeffery wouldn't be there either if he didn't have to.

'There's just you and me out here, Fella. Pity the poor policeman, keeping his town safe for decent people.'

Even the villains were home in bed, he wished that he was too. He went back to the station where the coffee-pot and the heaters were.

After midnight, way after, like 3am, tired and bored, Jeffery went out for another slow drive around the town. It was something to do, might help to keep him awake and it paid to vary the times of his late-night patrols.

There was still no-one about, which'd be why his night had been so deadly quiet and boring. But, there was one person out there. The Kenny-coat figure was still there, outside the Prince Albert Hotel – that coat was instantly recognisable.

That was a good thing too, if not he might not have realised that there was a person inside it. It hadn't moved far, but now it was hunched-down on the sidewalk, up against the wall, like a pile of rubbish or whatever. However, no-one puts rubbish out in the street dressed in a coat.

Jeffery did a not-quite-legal u-turn and stopped next to the hotel.

“Whoever you are, I'm glad I'm not you. Let's have a look at you then.”

He got out of the warm and dry car, which was a sacrifice, and leant over the figure on the sidewalk.

“Hey, Fella, all right, are you?”

There was no response, he reached out, pushed where a shoulder would be and the figure toppled over sideways.

“Damm! I didn't shove you that hard, did I?”

He flicked on his flashlight to inspect the small figure laid out there before him. The contours in the coat showed a long, lean body, arms and legs. It was probably a teenager in there.

“What're you doing out here, you Poor Little Bugger?”

He shook the figure's shoulders to wake it up and it worked. It, (he?), sat up, stretched and groaned. Yes, it was a boy all right, either that or a very deep-voiced girl.

“I. Ah!” He registered that it was a cop who'd woke him up and he cowered back against the wall.

Jeffery recognised the fearful posture and he tried to reassure him. “It's okay. No problems, okay?”

“Okay?” he replied, rising to his feet. “I wasn't doing anything wrong. I wasn't!”

“No, of course you weren't. I was just concerned about you. What are you doing out here in this horrible night?”

“Trying to stay dry,” the figure shrugged. “It's not easy.”

“I imagine it wouldn't be, on a night like this,” Jeffery replied.

“I arrived in town late and everything was shut. I'm a stranger here and I don't know where to go, so I was just sitting waiting for the morning.”

“All night long? There's still hours to go yet.”

“I, umm. I was sleeping.”

“You were, and I woke you up, didn't I?”

“Well, yeah. But I often do wake up when someone punches me, especially when it's a cop.”

“Hey! Make me feel guilty, why don't you? I didn't punch you anyway. I just shoved you and you fell over.”

“But why did you shove me?”

“I just wanted to see if you were all right.”

“I was before you came along.”

“How was I to know you were just sleeping there? It's not normal to sleep sitting out in a storm, you know.”

“Maybe not, but it's sheltered here and I don't know where else to go.”

“If you were stuck, you should've come to the station.”

“The Police station? Really? Are you taking in refugees now?”

“No, but we would if we had to. I wouldn't want to see you die of exposure out here in the night. That could cause all sorts of paperwork.”

“Nice to know you care! Don't worry, I've got no intentions of dying. This is a nice, warm coat that I'm wearing.”

“What are your intentions?”

“I'm not hanging around, getting in your hair. In the morning, I'll get something to eat, stock-up on supplies, and then I'll be on my way.”

“So soon? You're not staying around here then?”

“I'm just passing through. There's nothing to keep me here. Actually, I was wondering why anyone would stay here.”

“Hey! It's not that bad. Some of us quite like the place.”

“Some of us. I don't see why you would.”

“No? Okay, it doesn't look too flash in the wind and the rain on a dark night, but you should see it on a sunny day, it's glorious then.”

“I'll take your word for it. By the time you've got sunshine, I'll be well gone.”

“Right. Where are you going to?”

“Nowhere. I'm just drifting around.”

“You're travelling on your own?”

“Of course.”

“Where are you from?”

“Auckland, originally.”

“You're a long way from home then.”

“I am. I'm going down the west side of both islands, and then I'll go back up on the east sides.”

“That's quite a trip. How are you travelling?”

“By bike. I've got a touring cycle and camping gear and everything I need.”

“A push-bike?” Jeffery looked up and down the street. “I don't see a bike anywhere. Where is it now?”

“In the carpark at the back of the police station.”

“You left your bike behind the station?”

“Of course. It's the safest place in any town, no-one's going to steal it from there.”

“I hope you're right, but I wouldn't guarantee it. There's some cheeky little sods around.”

“I know. I saw a car-full of them, hours ago.”

“They're probably home in bed by now. I'm going back to the station. Do you want to come with me?”

“Why? Are you arresting me? I told you, I've done nothing wrong. It's not a crime to sit on the footpath, is it?”

“No, it's not a crime, but it's also not very nice on a night like this.”

“Tell me about it!”

Jeffery sat back and grinned. Okay, this boy was a total stranger, he knew nothing about him and he could be a right little bad-arse for all he knew, but he didn't think so. There was something about this kid, something that he liked, and he felt sorry for him.

“What's your name?”

“Tyler,” the kid replied.

“Tyler. And what is your family name?”

“Does it matter? I've got no family and I could tell you anything, you wouldn't know.”

“I guess not? Have you got a driver's licence?”

“”I wish I did! No, I haven't got a licence yet.”

“Not yet? How old are you, Tyler?”

“Why?”

“Because I'm nosy. You seem to be very young to be travelling around on your own.”

“But I'm not.”

“You're not on your own?”

“No. Yes. I am on my own, but I'm not too young. Legally, I'm an adult.”

“Really? You're a real baby-face if that's true. From what I can see, there's no way you look like you're 18.”

“Yeah, I know,” the kid sighed. “But it's true. It's a long story.”

“And this is not the time or place to be telling it. Well, Mister Legal Adult, I'm going back to the station where it's warm and dry. Are you coming with me or not?”

“I don't see why I need to. If I'm not in trouble, why do I have to come with you?”

“You don't have to come, I just thought you'd like to. There's no-one else there, you can get out of this weather and you could put your head down for the rest of the night, if you'd like.”

“Back to sleep sounds good to me! Is there somewhere I could lie-down? It's a cop-shop not a hotel.”

“It's surely not. But, yes, there's a couple of cells and they've got bunks in them.No-one's using them, so you could lie-down there. I've been known to do that myself on a quiet night.”

“You locked yourself up? Okay, let's get out of this.”

Jeffery got back into the car and the boy got in with him.