In the Land of the Long White Cloud

Helen wrote out further sheets with strange first names like Ngapini and Wiramu. Sometimes she was sorry to use her expensive letter paper, but she rarely had any other need of it. Though she wrote letters avidly to her relatives as well as to the Thornes in England and the girls right there in New Zealand, it wouldn’t be possible to post them until they went to Haldon. In Haldon she also wanted to order a Maori-language edition of the Bible. Howard had told her that the Scriptures had already been translated and she wanted to study it. If she learned a little Maori, maybe she could get to know the children’s mothers. Rongo had already taken her to the village once and everyone there had been very friendly. But only the men who worked with Howard or who hired themselves out to other farms to herd the sheep up and down to pasture spoke any English. The children had learned it from their fathers and from a missionary couple who had made a brief appearance.
    “They not nice though,” Reti explained. “All the time wagging finger and saying ‘hey, hey, sins, sins!’ What’s a sin, miss?”
    After that Helen expanded the curriculum and began to read the Bible aloud in English. This raised a few problems for her. The creation story, for example, profoundly confused the children.
    “No, no, that different!” declared Rongo, whose grandmother was a well-esteemed storyteller. “First there was
papatuanuku
, the earth, and
ranginui
, the sky. And they loved each other so much they not want to separate. Understand?” Rongo then made a gesture whose obscenity made Helen’s blood run cold. The child, however, was completely innocent. “But children of theirs wanted world with birds and fish and clouds and moon and everything. That’s why they pull apart. And
papa
cries and cries and from there come river and sea and lake. But stopped sometime.
Rangi
still cries, almost every day.”
    Rangi
’s tears, Rongo had mentioned that before, fell from the sky as rain.
    “That’s a very beautiful story,” murmured Helen. “But you know, of course, that
pakeha
come from big foreign countries where peoplestudy and know everything. And the God of Israel told the prophets this story in the Bible, and that’s the truth.”
    “Really, miss? God told it? No God ever talks to us!” Reti was fascinated.
    “There you have it,” declared Helen, with a pang of conscience. After all, her prayers too were rarely answered.
    The trip to Haldon, by way of example, had yet to materialize.

    The wedding guests finally departed, and life at Kiward Station returned to normal. Gwyneira hoped to return to the relative freedom she had enjoyed when she had first arrived at the farm. And to a certain extent she did: Lucas did not forbid her anything. He did not find fault with Cleo once again sleeping in Gwyneira’s chambers, even when he visited his wife. The little dog had been an annoyance the first few nights, though, protesting his presence with loud barking. She’d had to be scolded and sent back to her bed. Lucas had accepted it all without a peep. Gwyneira wondered why, unable to shake the feeling that Lucas felt guilty toward her for some reason. She still had never felt pain or shed blood during their time together. On the contrary—as time went on she came to enjoy the caresses and occasionally caught herself caressing herself after Lucas left, enjoying the feeling of rubbing and tickling herself and becoming appreciably wet. Only no blood appeared. Over time she became braver and probed further with her fingers, which made the feeling even more intense. Surely it would be just as nice when Lucas inserted his member—which he was obviously trying to do, but it never stayed hard long enough. Gwyneira wondered why he didn’t use his hand to help as well.
    At first Lucas visited her every evening after they went to bed, but he gradually appeared less and less. He always prefaced his visits with the polite question: “And do we want to try it again tonight, my love?” and never protested when Gwyneira occasionally declined. So far Gwyneira had no problems with married life.
    That said, Gerald made her life difficult. He insisted seriously that she take over the duties of a housewife—Kiward Station should be run like the households of Europe’s highest nobility. Witi was to be transformed into a discreet butler, Moana into a perfect cook, and Kiri into the very model of a housemaid. The Maori employees were entirely