The Kiwi Target

vehicle was a moderately old one, but it ran very well, giving evidence of good maintenance.
    It took close to an hour and a half to reach the property that was now his. When Louise pulled up in front of the big rambling ranch house, a lanky sunburned man in work clothes came out to take the bags. Peter would have preferred to do that himself, but he had sense enough to accept the arrangements that had been made for him.
    “You’re in the front room on the first floor,” Louise told him. “I’ll show you.”
    She led the way up a wide wooden staircase rich with the patina of many years of use. After a few steps down a spacious hallway she walked into a very large corner room filled with light and fresh air. She turned and looked at him. “It’s the best we’ve got,” she said. “William Oldshire had it built just the way he liked.
    “The house has been modernized,” she continued. “There’s a bathroom right there with everything you’ll need. Dad’s also put in smoke detectors and a fire control system. It cost a lot, but out here we’re not close to any fire stations; we have to take care of ourselves.”
    ‘‘Of course,” Peter said. He walked over and looked out the window, as he had looked out of windows all of his life. But this time it was magically different. What he was seeing was not just view, but his own property, land that was his, that belonged to him.
    He looked down at his shoes, which still showed evidence of a shine. “I need to buy some different clothes,” he said.
    Louise agreed. “There’s a general store where we get almost everything we need,” she told him. “It’s only about ten minutes away.”
    “Can you spare the time to take me?”
    She smiled, grateful she hadn’t been taken for granted. “Right now?” she asked.
    “Any reason why not?”
    "None at all. Let’s go.”
    The store was in a plain metal building, but it was surprisingly large and well stocked. He wandered up and down the aisles, with Louise at his side, taking it all in. In less than fifteen minutes, she helped him choose what almost amounted to a new wardrobe. She insisted that he also get a hat. “Out in the open you’ll need it,” she told him. “All the men wear one.
    He took his purchase up front and waited there while Louise collected some other things that were needed at the station. When she returned, she introduced Peter to the store owner, a heavy-set bearded man who wore suspenders and a pair of steel- rimmed glasses. “Mike, this is Peter Ferguson, the owner of Oldshire Station,” she said. “Peter, Mike Mulvanney.” Mulvanney held out a huge, work-reddened hand and gave a cordial shake. “Know about you, of course,” he acknowledged. “Glad they found you after all these years. Jack McHugh spoke well of you, that’s more than enough around here.”
    “Do you take traveler’s checks?” Peter asked.
    Mulvanney gave a sweep of his powerful forearm. “We bill the station once a month. Just come in anytime and take what you need. Have a cold beer with us before you go.”
    There was no refusing that. When it was tendered, Peter drank the cold, dark brew and enjoyed every drop. He had barely finished his can before Louise set down hers, also empty. “Another?” Mulvanney asked.
    Peter shook his head. “I’ve got work to do,” he said.
    It was the best thing he could have said. With the rear of the car liberally loaded with fresh purchases, Louise drove back to the station. There a woman he had not seen before, an amply built Maori, was preparing lunch.
    Peter went up to his room, had a quick shower, and dressed in some of his new clothes. He chose a pair of dark brown twill trousers and a patterned beige shirt to go with one of the two pairs of shoes he had bought. When he went downstairs, Jack McHugh was waiting for him.
    The older man approved immediately. “You couldn’t have done better,” he said.
    “Louise helped me out.”
    “I expect she would, if you asked her. Peter, while you were gone your lawyer called. He left his number and wants you to call him.”
    Peter went to the phone and got through to O’Malley very quickly.
    “I have some information for you concerning your application for permanent residency,” O’Malley said.
    “Good or bad?”
    “You came in on a visitor’s visa when it was a business trip, and they took a dim view of that. But when I explained the circumstances and certain other matters, they agreed to grant you a permanent