Chapter 47 #2
“Jupiter’s the biggest planet,” Finlay said, “but it’s made of gas.
That’s hard to imagine, isn’t it? It looks like you could stand on it.
Venus is rocky, like Earth, but it has phases, like the moon, so you can’t see the surface of it.
It just looks like a white blob. It’s funny that you can see the one made of gas, and it looks more real than the rocky one. ”
“Seeing is believing,” Zane agreed, “except when it isn’t.”
“Yes,” Finlay said. “Heaps of things are like that. You think you see them, but they’re not real. And real things can be hard to see.”
“Huh,” Zane said. “That’s a pretty original thought. Suppose you give me some more examples.”
“You don’t believe me,” Finlay said, flushing. “You think I’m just a kid.”
“No,” Zane said. “Every kid is a kid. That doesn’t mean they’re all the same, or that they’re not interesting. You’re pretty interesting, mate. So tell me what you meant.”
“That’s Uranus,” Finlay said instead, because he was looking through the telescope again.
“Near Jupiter. It’s blue, because it’s almost all ice, except for the core.
The planets are all pretty different. Except Mars, but that’s still pretty different from us.
It looks like you could live there, but you can’t, because the atmosphere’s too thin.
” He stood back to let Zane look. “Pity the sun’s coming up, so we can’t see more. ”
“Mm,” Zane said. “This was good, though. It’s pretty early yet, but we could probably rustle up a coffee and a snack. What d’you reckon?”
“Yes,” Finlay said, “because I’m hungry. I’d rather have a smoothie, though.”
Twenty minutes later, the palm fronds rustled overhead in the morning breeze, the low sun slanted across the water, and Zane sipped his coffee and thought, Go easy. The two of them were alike, maybe, Skylar and Finlay. Wary, that was the word. “So,” he said. “Real things are hard to see.”
“Yeh,” Finlay said. “Like gravity, but not really, because you can feel that, once you know what you’re feeling.
You do stick to the floor, and things fall downwards.
Maybe more like light, and how the colors are just a mix of different kinds of light.
White light doesn’t really exist, you know.
It’s just a mixture of all the colors, but it seems like it exists.
And time zones. How it’s one time here and another in Aussie, because the sun’s hitting the earth at a different angle there.
But even though the time’s different, it’s really the same time.
If you rang somebody up, it would still be now there. ”
“Complicated,” Zane agreed.
“Yes. Complicated things are more interesting, but they’re harder to understand.”
“And things that seem real but don’t actually exist?” Zane asked. “What about them?”
Finlay looked down. “You can tell me,” Zane said. “I’m interested.” Second time he’d said that in about ten hours.
“I meant more like feelings,” Finlay said. “Like how Granddad used to say I was his best mate, back when I was little.”
“Ah,” Zane said. “And now he’s wrapped up in my Nan.”
“Yeh. Peter was a bit like that too, though, so maybe that’s just how grown men are.
I don’t know, because I don’t know that many men.
I don’t think I’m like that, though. I don’t think I’d stop loving my mum just because I got older, or Olive or George, either, because I’m their brother.
I don’t think you should stop loving your whanau. ”
“No,” Zane said. “You shouldn’t. But you think Peter did.”
Finlay shrugged. “He acted like he really liked me at first, Mum said, but once they had Olive, he liked her better, because she was his real kid. He always said, ‘My first child.’ I remember that. Stepdads are different from real dads, I guess.”
“They are if they’re dickheads,” Zane said, and when Finlay looked at him, startled, he added, “Because Peter doesn’t seem to have been good for much, sorry, and that’s not how all grown men are. I don’t think he was very good to your mum, either.”
“Yeh,” Finlay said. “He didn’t work that much, I don’t think, because Mum would ask him what he’d done that day, and he’d say, ‘Why are you always hounding me? I don’t have a time clock, OK?
I don’t have a classroom I have to stand in for six hours a day to earn my pennies.
’ And then Mum would look tired and make dinner or something.
He was meant to collect me from school, too, but sometimes he wouldn’t come, because he was doing something on his computer, and I’d walk home instead.
That was OK. I could walk home. It isn’t very far.
I’m just using it as an example. He wasn’t very reliable, and Mum thinks being reliable is one of the most important things. ”
“What were you then,” Zane asked, “Year One?”
“And Year Two. But I remember. I’m not making it up.”
“Mate,” Zane said. “I don’t think you’re making it up. I think you were brave. You didn’t tell your mum, I guess, even though she’d have been right there at school and you could’ve just gone to her classroom.”
“No. I didn’t want them to argue. And I told you, I could walk home.”
“I’m pretty sure your Granddad still thinks you’re his good mate, though,” Zane said.
“He’s not worthless, just got his head turned all the way around at the moment.
Men can be like that when they’re in love, especially at the beginning.
” Finlay made a face, and Zane smiled. “Have you asked him to spend some time with you? What did you do together before?”
Finlay shrugged and looked out to sea. “We went fishing sometimes, I guess. Olive doesn’t care about fishing and George is little, so it was just us.”
“You could ask him, of course. Tell him you miss it. People don’t always know how other people feel.”
“Granddad’s old, though. He’s almost eighty. You should know by the time you’re old.”
“Nah, bro. Not that easy. Not until we can look into other people’s minds.”
“Like with an MRI machine,” Finlay said. “Except that only shows your brain, not your feelings.”
“Exactly. If you miss your granddad, tell him. And I know it’s not the same, but I do some fishing myself, when I have the chance of it.
Practically have to, don’t I, being Maori and all.
I was wondering something, actually, and you may be able to help me with it.
Where do you think your Mum would like to go during the summer holidays?
She likes this, I think. It’s the beach, and the beach is never bad. But what would she really like?”
“You should ask her,” Finlay said. “Like you told me to.”
“Fair point. But it’s hard to get her to tell me, because she knows I’ll be paying, and she’s not comfortable with that.”
“She’s used to being skint. She’s not used to being rich.”
“I’ve noticed. So I’ll ask another way. Anywhere she’s mentioned in particular?”
“Yeh,” Finlay said. “She said the Coromandel. That’s her favorite, and Hahei’s her favorite town.
We went there sometimes when I was little, I think, though I don’t remember very well.
And she was talking about it before. Before you were around, I mean.
She said that if we saved money the rest of the year, we could do a week before Christmas at the holiday park there, the way we used to.
That’s why Olive and George and Mum and I all take our lunch every day, and have a plan of things to eat when we’re at our house, too.
Things that aren’t very expensive, I mean.
And she said she doesn’t need new clothes, even though she bought new clothes to go on a date with you.
Or wine, either, even though she likes wine.
We have a budget. That’s when you write down the money you can spend.
We have that anyway, but especially to save for the holiday park. ”
“Ah,” Zane said. “Thanks, mate. That’s helpful. I could probably arrange that, and we could do some fishing there, too. Ever fished from a kayak?”
“No. Only from the dock, or sometimes from the rocks. Granddad says getting in and out of boats is too hard now. Fishing’s a bit dull, really, because you’re just standing there hoping the fish will come. I’m not sure why I even like it.”
“That’s where the kayak comes in,” Zane said. “You can trail a line.”
“Kayaking looks fun on TV,” Finlay said, “but I’ve never done it. Or ziplining or riding a horse, either. I guess it’s nice to be rich.”
“It can be,” Zane said. “And why not enjoy those things, if you have the chance to do them? But I grew up with heaps of brothers and sisters myself, and we definitely weren’t rich.
My two brothers and I shared a room, though as I was the eldest, I didn’t have to sleep in a bunk bed.
Lucky, eh. We had only one bath and two toilets, like you, and there were heaps of times when we boys would have to take a wee in the garden in the morning when we couldn’t get in there.
We fished for the fish, not the fun, and we ate what we caught.
Probably ate more fish than I wanted to, to tell the truth.
For fun, we played rugby. But it was a brilliant childhood all the same, chores and shared bedrooms and all.
Being outside. Playing rugby with my brothers, wrestling with them, being a bit of a fool.
Being with my whanau. All the things I like. ”
“Olive’s favorite thing is to read in her cupboard,” Finlay said, “and that doesn’t cost anything.”
“There you are, then,” Zane said.
“And you still get to play rugby with your brothers,” Finlay said. “Is it still fun?”
“Yeh, mate. It still is. I’m lucky. I get to do my favorite thing as my job, I get to do it with some of my whanau, and I get paid well for it.
I have to spend too much time away from home and ask too much of my kids and my partner, but every job has a downside, eh.
But right now, we’d better rattle our dags and get back to the house to get ready for that ziplining date. ”
“This has been a very nice holiday,” Finlay said, climbing out of his lounge chair.
“For me too. You lot have made it more fun, so thanks for that.”
“Even when Scarlett and I fight?”
“Not my favorite part,” Zane said, “but nothing I’m not used to. My brothers still take the piss, no worries, and so does Jade, every chance she gets. But they’re still my brothers, and she’s still my sister. That’s just how whanau is.”