Awatea's Secret E-Book

Fraser Smith

• Herausgeber: Huia Publishers
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 95

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

Awatea and his brother Tai are staying with their nan and pop on the farm. It's summer, and they're free to explore. They're also helping spruce up Mrs Carol's house and shed, which Nan and Pop inherited, because the aunties are coming to stay. There's always been a mystery around Mr Carol, who disappeared. Uncle Kim says he came to a sticky end. But in the shed, Awatea finds an old satchel with some coins, a notebook, some receipts and two envelopes that make him think differently. With the help of old Mr Willoughby, Awatea pieces together what happened to Mr Carol when he came back from the war, why he suddenly left one day in secret and where he went

Leseprobe

First published in 2024 by Huia Publishers

39 Pipitea Street, PO Box 12280

Wellington, Aotearoa New Zealand

www.huia.co.nz

ISBN 978-1-77550-828-1 (print)

ISBN 978-1-77550-873-1 (ebook)

Text copyright © Fraser Smith 2024

Cover illustration © Patrick White 2024

This book is copyright. Apart from fair dealing for the purpose of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part maybe reproduced by any process without the prior permission of the publisher.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library of New Zealand.

Ebook conversion 2024 by meBooks.

To my uncles: William, Patuone, Bob, Frank, Kim and John

Contents

1Patero

2Homestead Again

3Rats

4The Orchard

5Mr Carol’s Shed

6Kamikaze Visit

7Kawa Gang Detectives

8Mr Carol’s Junk

9Sleeping in Mrs Carol’s House

10J.D. Carol’s Satchel

11Manuhiri

12Mr Willy Tortoise

13Goodbye, Mrs Carol

14Carrot Comes to Civilisation

15Another Tree Hut

1

Patero

Darcy tugged, then growled through his teeth. He sat back on his haunches and jerked hard, ripping another hole in the lining of his smelly tartan coat, and it dropped from the door handle to the floor of the back porch. Darcy dragged it backwards down five concrete steps, his short legs straining to get a grip, his well-fed belly scraping on each step.

His backwards progress across the lawn with the tatty tartan changed direction each time he stopped to get his bearings. When he reached the pup tent, he wagged his tail and barked.

Awa looked up from hammering tent pegs into the lawn and laughed. “You silly sausage of a dog. Are you moving out too?”

Awa got to work tightening the ropes. Darcy dropped his coat under the awning.

“You want to sleep outside too, eh boy?”

Darcy wagged his tail, sniffed his coat and walked round and round on it in tight circles, his butt lowering a little more each time, until he finally slumped down with an exhausted grunt.

Awa laughed. “Ground sheet, sleeping bag, pillow, torch for me … and your smelly old coat stays out here, OK?”

Darcy’s tail slapped the coat, which released puffs of dust and dog hairs. He put his head on his paws and closed his eyes.

“You can be my ferocious guard dog.”

Awa lay on the lawn beside the dog and looked at the sky. He missed Carrot the parrot, Nan and Pop, Ma and Pa Rumble, Mangokuri and adventures. He was sick of living in town and going to school. Every day seemed the same. His dad was back at work. His mum was always busy. His three younger brothers had their own friends and, apart from Tai, had no idea of the wild world he was used to while living with his grandparents. He could camp out on the back lawn as long as he liked, but it was nothing like the Kawa Gang HQ, and Darcy was no Carrot.

“Oh well, it’s the best we can do. Summer holidays are coming,” he said to the dog.

Tai ran over. “Awa, Awa! What’s the tent for?”

“Mum said I can camp out. It’s not like the Kawa Gang HQ, but it’s better than the bunk.”

“Can I camp out too? We could tell Puhaha stories.”

Awa thought about it. Tai had been a loyal Kawa Gang member. He had been slashed by the Kamikazes’ sharp beaks. He had helped chase away Flip-Top Head the leopard seal and his mate and had got lost in a tapu burial ground and been rescued by Carrot. They both had shares in the ambergris treasure, although Tai didn’t know about the other money hidden in Awa’s bank account. And he had helped catch the poachers.

“Tai, we’ve got to convince our parents that we need a holiday at Nan and Pop’s.”

“I’m into that, all the way, Awa!”

That night in the tent, instead of telling Puhaha stories, they talked about their Kawa Gang adventures and planned how they would sleep in Mrs Carol’s haunted house. Lying in the dark, they made a mental shopping list for the tree hut and plotted tricks to play on Uncle Kim.

“Let’s count the words Carrot can say,” said Tai.

Awa started on his fingers, taking on Carrot’s voice: “Crusty, boy, look, out, zealots, rumble, old, bugger, hello, Carrot. I’m out of fingers. Ten so far.”

Tai was quick. “Whoopsie, poop, haha. Thirteen!”

“Two more makes fifteen. Let’s see … noises count, so grrrr and shhh.”

“Yeah, but you’ve spent more time with Carrot.”

“Not enough!” Awa was thinking back. “Woohoof and find, seventeen, tea, eighteen. I think he called me ‘good boy’, but I’m not sure.”

“Let’s teach him another. Let’s see … what about Tai?” said Tai.

“Nah, you’re ‘Boy-Boy’ already. Food is ‘crusty’, secret is ‘shhh’. I tried to teach him a tūī song, but he laughed instead. A word has to connect to his parrot brain. He laughed because I laughed. Now he makes laughing noises whenever he thinks something’ s funny. Weird sense of humour, too.”

Tai was on to it. “What about ‘Come here, cut that out!’ or ‘yes, no!’”

“Yeah, ‘Cut that out!’ would be funny. What about a number, like twenty? We could ask him, ‘What is ten times two, Carrot?’ and his answer would be right. Nah, he’s not a circus parrot. We can’t do swear words – Nan would go nuts. He probably learnt ‘old bugger’ from Ma Rumble by mistake. The uncles call him Kākā Feathers … he could call them something.”

“Patero!” shouted Tai. “That would work. Or tiko bum!”

Darcy farted, a silent killer that wafted into the tent.

“Jeez, Darcy! Put that back in the tin! Too much, Fido!” The boys, pulling faces, squirmed with laughter.

“That’s that, then,” Awa said. “Darcy’s tinned Fido fart has spoken. Patero. Carrot’s new word!”

The boys fell asleep discussing the sausage dog’s digestion. Tai’s opinion was that food had to travel a long way from his mouth to his bum, so his farts had twice as much time to brew. Darcy was famous for his silent killers. Awa reckoned he ate a lot from the neighbours’ compost heaps too.

Whenever they got the chance, the two boys suggested to their parents that they should go to Nan and Pop’s when the holidays began. Two weeks later, they were still at it.

“We are their oldest grandchildren,” said Awa. “They really appreciate us. We missed going last holidays.”

“And we’re very helpful to them when the uncles aren’t around,” said Tai. “Pop likes to get all of next winter’s firewood stacked early in summer to dry.”

“They have a point, Allan,” said their mother.

Their father agreed. “We mustn’t let their schooling interfere with their education. Why can’t we put them on a bus a few days before school finishes? Then all the homestead firewood problems will be resolved early.” He winked at Awa.

Awa couldn’t believe it. The two boys rushed their father and hugged him.

“Thanks, Dad!”

“Thanks, Dad!”

In the tent that night, Tai was very pleased with himself. “I did it! Tai, the master of persuasion!”

Awa wasn’t so sure. “We have been asking for a while. I reckon they worked it out between them, with Nan and Pop too. That was a good idea about the firewood, though, except now we’ll have to keep our word.”

“Speaking of words,” said Tai, “how do we teach Carrot his new one?”

“I reckon we need Carrot to make a connection. Like uncles and a name for them. We want Carrot to shout ‘Patero!’ every time he sees Kim or Frank.”

Tai laughed.

Awa was thinking. Maybe if Carrot was on his shoulder, he could whisper “Patero” every time an uncle was in sight. He wanted Carrot to shout it at the top of his voice. The same way he shouted “Look out!” as a warning.

2

Homestead Again

With one suitcase between them and two shillings each, the boys climbed onto the bus for Nan and Pop’s.

The Humber 80 was waiting for them at Waipukurau. Pop shook their hands, whistling as usual. “Welcome to Why-kick-a-moo-cow,” he said as he loaded the suitcase.

“Where’s Nan?” ask Awa.

“Your grandmother doesn’t like to travel much at the moment. Her puku is playing up. We’re gonna have to help her out a bit.”

Tai started fishing for news. “Have you been to Mangokuri much?”

“Not over the winter, too cold to get in the water! But we keep an eye on our bach and the Rumbles. Getting warm now.”

“Is Carrot OK?” Awa asked.

“That bird keeps Ma and Pa on their toes.”

“Carrot would keep anybody hopping,” said Awa. “So how is the kaimoana doing, Pop?”

“With your Nan’s puku like it is, I haven’t been out for a few weeks. I reckon we can plan a trip soon, even if your Nan can’t make it, especially now you’re older.”

Awa and Tai exchanged a glance. They wondered what being older would mean for them.

Tai blurted out, “I’m nine now, and Awa’s eleven. We can do heaps more than when we were little!”

Pop laughed. “I seem to remember you did quite a bit last time you were down! Helped catch some poachers and found treasure. I reckon you’ll be very useful. I haven’t seen much of Frank. Kim is out haymaking, only comes home to eat and sleep, and you know your Nan, she loves having whānau to stay, so she’ll love having you.”

At the homestead, Nan greeted them with her face-powdery kisses. She put her hands on their shoulders and stood back to admire how much they had grown, then exclaimed how her daughter Miriam had such handsome boys.

“Awa is as tall as you, Nan!” Tai observed.

“Then he can climb the cabbage tree and get me some tipu, and you, Tai, some pūhā. Pop will take your bag to your room, and dinner’s nearly ready.”

Pop reached into his pocket and passed Tai his pocket knife. “Cut pūhā low, then it will grow back. Don’t pull it out.”

The two boys ran across the lawn. Awa stopped at a tall, bushy cabbage tree by the gate. “This is the tree Mum was born under. Kim told me. Nan stopped here to wait for a ride to the doctor, and she gave birth to Mum right here on the lawn!”

Tai shook his head doubtfully. “I’m gonna ask Mum about that.”

“You should, Tai. Now, the best pūhā is around the edge of Pop’s vegetable garden.”

“But what’s tipu?”

“It’s those spears in the middle of the leaf crowns up there.”

“But how do you get them?”

Awa took off his belt, looped it round the lowest branch and hauled himself up. The corky bark provided good grip. He straddled the second branch and reached up.

He threw Tai a couple of spears then shimmied down. “Nan asks me to get these when her puku is sore. She chews this white end here. It doesn’t taste like much. She says she used to eat it when she lived with her grandparents up north. Pūhā, Tai. For Nan.” He pointed towards Pop’s garden. “She chews that, too.”