chapter five / hidden taonga

"Boys are stupid," Sarah Cameron drawled, bathing in the sun dipped light on the top deck of the My Druthers, legs folded as she laid beside Ilyshah Tūrei who shaded half of her face with a cream fedora hat. Coconut scented oil slicked skin bronzing as the minutes passed them by.

Ilyshah hummed in agreement. "We should get married and not have to deal with them."

"That's the best idea you've ever come up with," A smile softly appeared on her lips, eyes fluttered closed, "where should our wedding be? 3, 2, 1—"

"Hawaii," The two girls called, jaws both dropped as Ilyshah's hat had knocked off from sitting up in shock.

Spencer Fishers played with the string of his board shorts, fingers moving upwards to peel the skin from a freshly turned sunburn on his elbow. "You realize I'm here too? And I'm a boy."

"Shame," Ilyshah sagely commented with a sigh, sitting back and returning the felt hat to her forehead, "you can be our flowerboy Fin."

It was almost comical, how days worked on the Outerbanks. One day, vibrations sounded off her chest from the soulful build up of a belly laugh. The next, salting the earth behind her after steeping in the medley of emotions that followed her fateful confrontation with JJ on the dock. Floating in her own lagoon of mercuriality.

      All this time, Ilyshah Tūrei carefully curated an image of JJ Maybank in her mind. Tidal waves for eyes, dirt blonde mane and holes in his bush socks peeking out of his work boots. All feeding into a perfection imperfection that had her singing love songs in the mirrors reflection, wishing on every petal and blushing as high as the sunset. Until, he pulled out the gun and the facade came tumbling down bringing with it whatever feelings had been wedged between them.

    The island teachings of all out tribal warfare reached its boiling point since then, with talks of retribution teased in the air by Lani and Sarah's ( frankly, stupid ) boyfriends—souring the summer dream with each simmering plot to get back at JJ Maybank. To say they were unhappy that Ilyshah saved him from getting fired was an understatement, and at this point it would have been a safer option. The territory of Figure Eight was full of land mines, any Pogue who stepped over the borderline spelled a death wish for themselves.

"I'm gonna get some water, you guys want any?" asked Sarah, brushing off her dress as they both gave her a silent thumbs up, still recovering from the night before.

Spencer broke the silence between them once Sarah left. "So you two are on a crusade against all mankind now?"

"Who said we only just started?"

"This is about JJ, isn't it? Because if you had told me earlier, I would've told you this is what he's li—"

    "It's not about him and I'm not in the mood Spence," She lifted the hat back onto her crown, casting a shadow over him as she stood up. "I'm gonna help Sarah with the water."

    As Ilyshah descended the ladder from the second level, she spotted none other than John B Routledge on deck, scuba tanks spilled out of duffel bags crossed over his body. He loaded up a boat Ilyshah recognised as the HMS Pogue from the paint across the side from when she crossed it on her fishing expeditions with Uncle Kahu.

   "Okay, can we drop the whole Pogues vs Kooks thing?" Sarah probed bracingly, hanging over the edge of the boat. "It is really stupid."

   John B gave a sigh, lifting his head to face hers after he untied the HMS Pogue. "Y'know it's easy to say that when you're a Kook," then let off two audible taps on the side as the engine revved up.

   Ilyshah stepped forward by Sarah's side as she motioned a salute into a snide middle finger, her finest resting bitch face on show. "What was that about?"

              "Another stupid boy we don't have to deal with."

   Fresh off the chase in the marsh where they had been sprayed with more than just water but bullet casings, a black duffel bag within their hold—the Pogues hop onto the dock outside the chateau not only rife with adrenaline but anticipation for what they potentially uncovered. Pope Heyward had just been the only one extremely vocal with his.

"Can we please just open the bag?" He exclaimed, eyes popping out at his own newfound sense of impatience.

  "Wow, Pope. That's a rare outburst of emotion."

"Okay you guys are literally killing me with anticipation — we almost died over this."

John B fumbled with the cloth bag, sliding down the fabric surrounding the canister and applying pressure on the lid until it opened with a clang. Carelessly, he turned it over in an instant catching something in his palm. A compass.

Recognition glinted in his eye when his thumb flipped up the copper lid, lips parting as Pope beckons a rant, JJ lifting off his cap out of frustration. They almost fronted the impervious bone scarred grips of the reaper, all for a compass.

        "Dude, what? It's not worth anything."

                     "This was my father's."

Pope drew together his eyebrows, eyes squinting at what was left behind on the wooden plank from the canister. Viridian with a pearlescent sheen, coiling in on itself. "JB... something else came out of it."

            "What?" John B switched his attention, picking up the waxed cord with nimble fingers, scanning the pendant for any sense of recollection as to what it could be and yet nothing.

Pope stroked his finger across the penny sized stone from the marsh, holding it up against the faint light of morning. He couldn't quite place it, but the stone emanated something the compass didn't. An impenetrable power channeling through, keeping his eyes locked on the olive milky texture dotted with verdigris. It's as if earth had been taken by its sphere, encased into stone and dropped by the hands of God into the calloused palm of the Heyward boy.

   And he was truly the last person to ever entertain the supposed power of stones, not after Kiara's sixtieth spiel on the benefits of selenite in each corner of a room, ones the Pogues would always accidentally knock over and royally piss her off by doing so.

"I think I know who we can ask about this," Pope nervously trailed off, shaking the stone in his palm as he walked towards John B and JJ sprawled across the sofa. "I've seen Ilyshah Tūrei wear this, it looks almost identical—"

"How do you even notice that?" John B interjected.

"Yeah, how do you notice Pope?" JJ added, propping himself up on his elbows. "Staring at her — you know," his eyes darted up and down, lips coming together in a sing song whistle.

"Man, get your head out of the gutter. I wasn't — I mean it's an interesting enough necklace—," Pope stammered as JJ and John B exchanged mocking eyes, "—anyway that's not the point, the point is clearly there's a connection between this and what she wears. It's not a very common pendant here—"

"—just saying, I wouldn't blame you if you were looking — can't say I've looked or anything—"

"JJ, focus man."

"So, what's the plan?" Pope asked. "We go up to her and show the pendant hoping she knows something?"

John B shrugged. "Something like that."

"Probably find her at the beach, she always goes surfing at this time," JJ mumbled as he played with his lighter, garnering stares from the two boys that he only noticed upon looking up. "What?"

"You need help," John B taking off his cap with a head shake.

"I strongly agree on that one," Pope added. "You're not coming with us either, not after you pulled out a gun in front of her."

JJ rolled his eyes. "Fine, but good luck reeling her back here without my charm," then lifted an eyebrow. "Are we not gonna tell Kie?"

       "And have her stop us because she's a Tūrei? I don't think so."

    Another thing Ilyshah missed in Spencer Fishers' absence—their little ritual of seafoam laced trails in the moana from dawn, waves curling overhead in a harsh rhythm of nature when they came crashing overhead. That's what she loved most about the ocean, the life force energy of Tangaroa in both beauty, and destruction, a begging to be respected.

Emerging onto shore, surfboard clung to her torso as she desperately needed fresh water running down her throat to wash away the brine she swallowed with each wave break—Ilyshah jogged back to where her towel was spread on the sand alongside her crochet tote. Only, accompanying her goods were the figures of John B and his friend who she knew of as Pope standing idly by beneath a spectre of nerves visible to the eye.

She eyed them under a thin veil of hesitation as her pace slowed, noting the purpled kiss staining John B's eye socket from nights prior. "Hi... can I help you two?"

Pope merely gawked at her, mouth slightly agape until John B elbowed his side non verbally begging him to speak up first.

"Yeah, uh we were wondering," John B cleared his throat, his eyes darted from her chest back to her eyes as he pointed. "What is that you're wearing?"

Ilyshah glanced down at the pendant carved of green stone that decorated her neck, then shaded her eyes from the sunrays. "It's pounamu."

"Pou..." John B repeated as Ilyshah finished the word for him to clarify the pronunciation encouragingly. "And what does it mean?"

She sighed softly, wandering above at the sky, "It's a bit of a long story really... whose interested?"

"Uh... us?" John B motioned to Pope who nodded intently. "Yeah, us. We have summer homework — for history y'know," he flashed a nervous yet charming smile, folding his arms across his chest.

A dumbfounded look washed over her features. "An American school setting a Maōri assignment in July? That's groundbreaking."

Pope interjected. "Look, maybe it's better if we show you. We found a... pounamu?"

"You can call it a green stone if that's easier," She warmly suggested.

"Right, we found a greenstone out at the bottom of the marsh, and we were wondering maybe you could have a look at it?" He asked.

           "Eh? Where is it?"

"We don't exactly have it on us," John B gave a toothy cringe. "It's back at mine," then jerked his thumb behind him, "we can take you there, my van has room for your board."

Ilyshah cocked her eyebrows, then slung the crotchet tote and now dampened towel over her shoulder, whipping on her sunnies. "You did say you owe me," gesturing towards the car park. "Lead the way g."

"Lysh!" A voice called, Spencer Fishers paced over to where his towel had been laid out beside hers, propping up his board against the sand. "You're not coming back out?"

"Uh," Ilyshah trailed off, before pointing behind her, "my new friends here need my help with something, apparently."

Spencer lifted his gaze, tipping his chin up in polite suspicion. "Sup John B... Pope," earning non-verbal eyebrow raises with forced upturned lips. "Okay, but you'll still come over for dinner right? Mom's making anelletti for you."

"Of course," She bared her teeth sunnily, leaning up to graze his cheek with a feathery kiss. "I'll see you later, okay? Ciao."

"Ciao?" He listed his arms in disbelief, watching the two Pogues escort her away with a linger of leeriness before shaking his head and picking his board back up.

    Barefoot on the pavement, the pads of Ilyshah's soles sizzled on the road until finally she gave in, slipping sandy feet into a pair of lemon coated havianas. With a clunky slide of the battered back door by John B, she traced her fingers along the assorted stickers patched onto the rear window of the kombi van.

"Fah, this is mean as," Ilyshah gasped in wonder as she jumped into the back of the van, settling down her board. "My dad used to drive one of these," she added, fishing out an olive linen button up of Spencers she shoved into her bag that morning and black denim shorts to tug over soaked bathers as the boys kept their gazes averted.

John B knocked on the roof of the van. "Yep, this is my old girl," then hopped into the drivers seat as Pope took the front. "Twinkie we call her."

"Mean," She repeated in a whisper as her eyes travelled across the interior, landing on Pope. "Your pops runs the seafood shop, right?"

"Uh, yeah. That's right," Pope returned her smile, resting his left hand on the back of the front seat outstretching his hand, "I'm Pope, by the way."

"Ilyshah," She shook his hand kindly, "you know, your dad's the only one who sells fresh kinas around here — well, I shouldn't say kina cause that's only in NZ but your sea urchins close enough."

As she continued her meandering ramble, shocking him with how comfortable she already felt around him, Pope realised just how much he adored the honeyed tune of her accent. Rolling her r's in golden fluidity, a's into e's and e's into i's creating near infinite blends of misunderstandings to his ears. His eyes flickered for a split second to the shirt she was still buttoning up with fumbling hands, knowing without a doubt where it came from.

"Love me some kaimoana, I'm from Ngāti Porou so y'know, we like it fresh from the sea."

"What's... what's that? If you don't mind me asking," Pope prompted coyly.

Ilyshah crossed her legs over, bumping and swaying in procession as John B took down a dirt path. "Ngāti Porou? Oh, that's my tribe — back home."

"So cool," he breathed, sharing another warm smile with her. "I want to go there, y'know to see Mordor and all."

"Not even I've gone to see Mordor," she clicked her tongue as she fiddled with the beads hanging off the front seat, "it's far from where I lived in Whangara, we call ourselves coasties there, it's where I learnt to surf," her smile slowly dropped as she leaned forward until her face came right into view next to John B's, "um... your friend JJ won't be where we're going right?"

"He might be... why?"

"No reason..." She slumped back into the seat. Pope and John B gave each other the side eye as she twisted her sea drenched clove tresses into a low bun.

    In no time, the trio pulled up to The Chateau, metres away from where JJ had been resting on the porch across from Kiara on the sofa. Gnawing on his nails for if Ilyshah were to walk in behind John B and Pope; he didn't know how she would react to seeing him now after what he said to her the other day, wishing he could take it back as soon as he turned his back to her.

The simplistic, homely feel to the fish shack bound Ilyshah in a trance. Fingertips playing with a seashell crafted wind chime she passed, trailing behind John B and Pope past a shed that reminded her so vividly of the parties she attended back home. The place looked like it had seen several shed parties itself, empty beer bottles littered around the joint from all corners among the ruins of Agatha—a sign that it had been well lived in by unruly teenagers with zero parental supervision.

"Whose that with them?" Kiara probed with squinted eyes as her neck craned over, "What the hell—" she got up hastily.

    JJ feebly attempted to stop her from the sofa. "Kie, wait." But it was of no use, she was already face to face with John B.

"John B, what are you doing bringing her into this?"

"Kie," John B took her aside as Ilyshah stood with Pope, completely avoiding eye contact with JJ as they all convened on the porch. "Look, she's the only one who owns a necklace identical to it — she might know something."

   "And what if she goes off and tells Sarah, or better yet Spencer?" She protested hotly.

      Ilyshah screwed up her face, a double groove appearing between her brows. "Chill, alright? I'm not a snitch." She spoke up, gaining Kiara's begrudged attention with a curled upper lip. "Unless there's human trafficking involved, I'll snitch on human traffickers."

     "I can assure you there's nothing of that nature," Pope urged, fluttering his hands.

        "Alright, where is it then?"

     JJ chimed in, revealing the pendant from under the collar of his muscle tank and dangling it like a treat. "Right here princess."

      Ilyshah relaxed her face into a tired expression. "What.. an... egg," she pronounced, then approached him daringly."I wish you hadn't of worn it."

      "Why not? Reckon it looks pretty gorgeous on me," He swiped his thumb between the ridges of the spiral wearing a smug grin.

  "Except for the fact it's bad luck to wear one if it doesn't belong to you."

   His taunting smile obscured into a serious frown as he shot up. "Wait, you're serious?"

          "Yeah, nice going JJ," Kiara scoffed as John B whistled.

"Hey look, I'm sorry — if I knew that I wouldn't have worn it — I was keeping it safe."

Ilyshah cracked a smile fanned with sarcasm. "Let's hope my ancestors are soft on you then," she reached out to seize the pendant from his grasp, then leisurely wandered around the porch, her eyes squinted at the stone in scrutiny as the Pogues all gave eyes to JJ, skimming her nails over the microscopic carvings. "Where did you say you found this again?"

   Pope spoke up, "It's gonna sound crazy but—"

"Don't tell her," Kiara interjected in a warning tone. "We can't trust her... and this is a Pogues thing you guys," earning a raised eyebrow from Ilyshah. No wonder her and Lani were once best friends, she thought. The manifestation of their biting attitudes one in the same, only ideologies and tribalism drew a figment line in the sand between the two.

     "Seems like you guys need to figure some stuff out so uh," Ilyshah pointed towards the screen door as she walked towards it. "I'm gonna go and—"

   John B interrupted. "Wait, we might — need that necklace you have there. It could be a... clue, to something."

    She narrowed her eyes sharp enough to slice anyone in her path. "Well, this is from my culture so I think I have more of a claim to it, objections?" Her eyes scanned the silent withdrawn faces of the Pogues, lingering on JJ's a second longer than the rest. "Sweet," then with a single nod she flew open the screen door, descending down the steps before John B chased after her.

"Look just wait," He halted Ilyshah in her tracks, "the necklace, it came with this—" he pulled out a compass from his pocket, holding it up to her peripheral, "—it belonged to my dad, who went missing at sea right before you moved here. And, it feels like — I don't know, a message from him. So if you can help, with anything... please. I'm begging you."

Ilyshah's eyes drooped with sincerity, chewing on the plump flesh of her bottom lip. It tugged at her heartstrings, really to see the boy so desperate for a connection back to his family. Reminding him too much of herself.

"I get it, okay? But... it doesn't seem like your friends want me around."

   "Kie just takes a while to warm up to people," John B reassured. "The rest of us, we're cool with having you around, you're cool... y'know — so, what d'you say?"

His eyes pleaded for the answer he was after, an answer that could bring him closer to whatever the truth may be.

"You better not make me regret this, John B."

Whale Rider ━━ JJ Maybank
Chapter Five, Hidden Taonga
Outerbanks S1 ━━ Ep. 2 The Lucky Compass