The Number 8

Chapter 8

It was 7:00am and Dante was wide awake. He had had a sleepless night. But his body must have wanted him up at 6:40am badly, because he woke up coughing and spluttering. By chance it was just in time for sunrise which he took in from the comfort and warmth of his bed: the red, yellow and orange coalescing to form a breathtaking pink color that made him sit up in his bed. The sun was low on the horizon but large like something he would expect to see on the African Plains.

By 7:00am he was showered and changed. He had thrown on some dark blue swimming shorts and a black V-neck T-shirt with a black and white graphic of the Eiffel Tower on the front. He loved Paris. It was his favorite city in the world. In general Dante took a while over his appearance. He combed his painfully straight hair to one side. He liked to keep the sides short but left it longer on top. He shaved every other day even though his facial hair grew through in patches, unlike Asmir who could grow a fairly substantial beard in just a few days. He had thick eyebrows which got him compliments but were a nightmare to deal with, like two caterpillars that lived above his eyes with minds of their own. He was proud of his teeth as it had taken him three years of braces and two more years of wearing a retainer to get them the way they were. He wasn’t entirely unhappy with his appearance. Although, after the last few weeks, he wasn’t exactly looking his best. He was a few pounds heavier than he wished to be. A few months previously he had been in the best shape of his life, athletically and psychologically. At the moment, not so much.

He packed up all his things and left the room looking presentable. He rolled his suitcase along the corridor as quietly as possible but one wheel refused to co-operate and squeaked all the way back down the blood-red corridor. No noise came from any of the rooms. He was sure no one was awake. There was no way in hell the bus would leave at 8:00am. It was the first day of the tour. It would be a miracle if everyone was up and out by 9:00am. But he was and he liked his privacy in the mornings. He wasn’t exactly a morning person. But he liked people who were because they could energize him and get him into a good frame of mind for the day. The receptionist, Fiona, was one of these people.

“Good morning Mr. Darion, how did you sleep?”

Dante gave her a tired smile and replied, “Mr. Darion? I am a couple of years away from that. But I slept very well, thank you. How are you this morning?”

“Excellent,” she beamed. “Did you see the wonderful sunrise?”

“I’ve never seen colors like that. It’s like something you see on a postcard.”

She chuckled. “Too true. Are you going to see the caves today?”

“Yeah, but I am going to do the black water rafting. Both have glowworms in so I figured that I may as well try that.”

She tilted her head to one side and gave Dante a once-over. “Most people don’t know that when they come here. You have family from around here?”

“No, I just like to know the whole story, so I research a place first. You can get more out of a place if you know its secrets.”

“Very true. So what do you think about your fellow passengers?”

“I don’t yet. I haven’t even spoken to everybody yet. But most seem nice. Here to drink a lot, I think.”

She straightened her head. “And you’re not?”

“Probably. But not just that. This trip is about a lot of things but being hungover is not one. What is the point in flying halfway round the world to do the same thing you could do at your local bar?”

“True, but here you can do it with a view.”

They both laughed.

It turned out Fiona was the daughter of the hostel’s owner. They stood and talked for a little while longer. She had been on the same tour and knew all of the best things to do. She told him that the Maori night in Rotorua was a once in a lifetime experience and urged him to go on the glacier tour in Franz-Joseph. She also said that Queenstown was the greatest city in the world, but he took her words with a pinch of salt because she also liked Auckland and he was not a fan. After a few more minutes she told him that Asmir had booked them breakfast and walked him to the table in person. As expected, no one else was there at this time, but he was beginning to hear rumblings from inside rooms and the creaking of doors. The reception desk was visible from the table so he invited Fiona to sit and continue their conversation. He found her interesting and well educated on matters involving New Zealand or Australia but shockingly ignorant about any current international issues. After a few minutes the phone started to ring and she excused herself.

He sat there eating his pancakes and bacon. Not his usual diet but he needed to pack himself full of calories for what Fiona had described as “a pretty tough day”. In the next thirty minutes people began to filter out of their rooms. Those who hadn’t booked breakfast were either in the kitchen next to the reception making some or out on the front lawn eating something they had already picked up. By 8:00am only half the bus were out of their rooms. This led to Ben charging angrily down the corridors shouting through the loudspeaker for everybody to get up. But that was only after uttering an obscene amount of cuss words, some of which Dante was sure he had made up on the spot. But by 8:30am everyone was on the bus. Not all were ready, some barely looked human, but at least they were on and the day could begin.

Chapter 9

“What’s your deal?” avoice asked from the seat in front.

“Excuse me?” Dante said.

Annie popped up and knelt on the seat. She kept snatching a look towards Ben who would tell her to sit down if he saw.

“Oh, hey,” Dante said, realizing that his tone had been a little confrontational.

“What’s your deal?” she asked again.

“I didn’t even know people outside the USA asked questions like that,” Dante smirked.

“You know what I mean.”

He did. “An ambitious Uni student who’s had a pretty crappy couple of months. That just about sums me up right now. Ask me again at the end of this trip.”

“I will,” she said, sneaking another look at Ben.

“What’s your story?” Dante fired back.

This made her visibly uncomfortable but Dante pretended he didn’t see. She was about to reply to his question when Ben shouted, “We’re here! Everybody off!”

She shrugged and sat back down.

As the bus pulled in to the Karangahake Scenic Reserve car park it became apparent they weren’t the only group there. Four other buses were lined up neatly next to each other in the spots closest to the reserve’s entrance. It was only 9:00am. If it was this busy now he dreaded to think what it would be like at lunch time. All four buses were smaller than theirs. Different colors and sizes but most with a common clientele: young people on tours similar to theirs. The smallest of the buses held a very different group. The bus was a dirty shade of blue and had the words “NZ YMCA” printed in capitals on the side. But it was not young people that disembarked. It was a jovial group of elderly women dressed in sportswear. Comfortable running shoes, tracksuit pants and jacket with the letters “RPEC” printed on them. They began to warm up out of view as the Pleasant Pheasant passengers wearily evacuated the warmth of their coach. Barely anyone had noticed these spritely ladies lunging and jogging on the spot just outside. Dante felt a strange mixture of admiration, self-loathing and crippling fear that at any moment one of these ancient women would keel over and die right there next to their stolen YMCA bus.

Just behind the athletic grannies was a beaten-up blue Toyota Corolla with mud splashed all over the sides. Both wheels were caked in it but it was dry now. Dante would be surprised if it drove cleanly. There were two passengers. A man and a woman. Asmir and Mel.

Asmir swung the passenger door open and carefully maneuvered himself out. He didn’t look entirely comfortable. He moved mechanically and massaged his lower back with the ball of his palm. He turned slowly and Dante caught his eye. He forced a pained smile. He hobbled over and greeted the other members of the bus fondly. Viktor gave him a firm pat on the back as he passed. Asmir winced in agony and swore at Viktor in Russian. Viktor barely reacted and just shot a twisted grin back at him.

“What happened to you? I thought it was only your leg?” Dante said, confused.

“It was!” Asmir shouted. “They messed up the stitches and made me stay in overnight. Then, they decided to make me stay in a bed that I am 95% sure was made of stone.”

“So you have a stiff back?”

“Stiff back…stiff back?!” he shouted again. “This feels like someone took a sledgehammer to my back while I slept.”

“At least you got some rest though, right?” Dante said, trying to get him out of a ranting mood. But he would not be stopped.

“Oh no, no, no, no… A good rest would have been ten hours sleep. Eight even. But that crazy woman got me up at 5:00am to be here by 8:30,” he said pointing at Mel, who saw this and blushed a little.

“But you…”

Asmir interrupted, “Wait, I’m not done. After getting lost for two hours on our way here she found the only muddy road in the North Island and proceeded to take it on in a borrowed Toyota Corolla. That is the result,” he said pointing at the now brown car.

Dante took a second to make sure he was done.

“So I guess you’re not gonna come on the walk with us?”

Asmir just looked at him in amazement, not saying anything, just standing, mouth agape.

“I guessed as much.”

“You’re damn right. I haven’t slept, I’ve eaten the hospital’s food which shouldn’t even be served to rats, and I feel like that 300lb kid has been sleeping on my back, you know the one I mean, right? Half tonne kid or something like that?”

“Half tonne would make him 500lbs, Az. But yeah, I do.”

Asmir chose to ignore the correction. “Anyway, have a good little walk, I’m off to sleep on the warm coach.” Dante watched Asmir climb the stairs of the bus and stumble all the way to the back and out of view.

He turned back around to see that the group of old ladies had begun to power walk off into the distance. Arms and legs pumping hard. They were clucking away happily to each other as they hit the trail. His group had also started trudging up the path. But the body language was distinctly different. Hands in pockets, shoulders hunched over, kicking stones and all of it in absolute silence. Mel was right at the front looking weary and frustrated. She kept glancing towards the bus, presumably to catch a glimpse of Asmir. It seemed that nobody but Dante was in a good mood. Strange, seeing as the sun was shining and they were in paradise.

He shivered as he was hit by a rogue gust of frigid air. That was what prompted him to start moving. He picked up the pace to catch up with his group. His shoulders were back and his arms swinging.

Walk like a winner.

He caught up with the group and fell into a rhythm. Unbeknownst to them, they had been walking a very slight incline. No one had noticed, not even Dante. As Mel, the leader of the tour, reached the corner, she smiled. First into the distance then at them. One by one they got to the viewing landing where she was waiting and saw why she was beaming.

The view was barely of this world. It was like something from Avatar. Below them was a large gorge with a river bisecting the hills on either side. On the south-facing hillside the sun amplified the colors of the many plants and trees. Boulders lay scattered in a random, but strangely artistic pattern in between small sections of forest. A man and his dog could be seen navigating the treacherous terrain near the top of the northern hill. In the gorge the river thundered through the valley, meandering around corners and leaving only large stones behind. The water was clear and even at this distance, Dante could see the river bed. He took out his camera and snapped some shots. He knew Asmir quite liked photography so he would be a little upset that he didn’t get to see this.

Chapter 10

“I hate this place…” was all Asmir could make out. One of the passengers had come back early and was crashing around in the bus. He was angry about something. Asmir would normally have got up and made sure he was all right, but he hadn’t slept much and this guy had woken him up. He wasn’t in any mood for conversation. The guy hadn’t noticed him slumped at the back and he wanted to keep it that way. He kept still and tried to fall back to sleep. But in the background all he could hear was the guy pacing up and down the aisle, muttering. Each time he got further and further up the aisle. Then he stopped. For a second there was silence.

Then, “Oi! Are you hiding back there?” he shouted.

Asmir kept silent, hoping that his silence would answer the question. He was asleep and he wanted to stay that way.

The guy didn’t get the message. “Oi! The brown one back there, I’m talking to you.”

For a second Asmir wasn’t sure he had heard that right. So he gave the guy the benefit of the doubt and kept his mouth shut.

“Are you deaf, brown kid? This isn’t a homeless shelter. This is a tour bus. Go and sleep off the hangover somewhere else.”

Asmir definitely hadn’t misheard that. He got up, walked over to the guy and stuck out his hand.

The guy looked disgusted by this and backed away. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Shaking your hand.”

“Why?” he stuttered.

“You have got to be the most ignorant person I’ve ever met. I wanted to congratulate you.”

The guy just stood there, unable to speak. Asmir could almost hear his mind trying to process this scenario.

“Do you realize how many assumptions you just made about me?” Asmir carried on. “No? I didn’t think so. You don’t know anything about me.”

The man stayed silent.

“First you interrupt my sleep. Then you call me brown and insinuate that I’m not meant to be here. What’s your name?”

“Um…Richard Smith.”

“Well, Richard, is it all right if I call you Dick?” It wasn’t really a question he needed answering, so he carried on. “I can tell you are the type of guy who bullies people. I don’t like bullies very much. But I can be pretty forgiving, so here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re going to sit down and tell me what the hell is wrong with you and then I’m going back to sleep. Sound good, Dick?” Asmir wasn’t the violent type but he looked big enough to get away with what he’d just said. He didn’t really want to hear another word from Dick, but he knew that the guy’s pacing and muttering would keep him up, so he wanted it resolved.

Dick just stood there, his mouth slightly ajar and his brow furrowed. He was a strange-looking guy. Not ugly, but quite rat-like. Big nose. Deep-set brown eyes covered by thick, bushy eyebrows. His complexion was pale and his black hair was styled into a spiky quiff. He was about 6’1 and skinny, but with a fairly athletic build. Asmir could probably take him in a fight.

Finally Dick eased himself into an empty seat and Asmir sat opposite.

“Now tell me, what the hell is up with you? Why are you muttering to yourself like a crazy person?”

“I don’t want to be here. I hate it. Everything’s different.” His anger was evident.

“Different? From where?”

“England. It’s all different and weird.”

From the way he spoke, Asmir understood he wasn’t educated. So he would have to lead.

“And thank God it’s different! It’s sunny, there’s no traffic and not a pie in sight. Isn’t it great?”

Dick looked up at him like he’d blasphemed. “No, it’s not. I want all that. I hate the sun. Look at me, I burn easy. And pie, I would give my right arm for some pie right now.”

“So why are you here?”

“My family made me. I’ve never been out the country and I’m about to enlist. They thought it would be my last chance before I go to the army.”

“So for your first trip abroad they sent you to New Zealand? Dick, you’re a very lucky guy.”

“Lucky? You call almost a full day on a plane lucky?”

“Look around you, this place is incredible. Don’t miss out.”

“What’s your name?”

“Asmir. Maybe you should ask that first before calling me “brown kid”. You’re lucky it was me.”

“Look, Amsir…”

“Asmir, Dick. Asmir.”

“OK. Look, Asmir, I’m from a small village in Yorkshire. I don’t see many of your kind in my area. I’m not being racist. It’s just a fact. You are brown.”

Asmir chuckled a little. This guy was unbelievable. “I understand that, Dick, but you can’t call me brown, it’s seen as racist. You also can’t say “your kind”. When did you leave school?”

“Fourteen. Better to earn money doing odd jobs than paying it to learn algebra.”

Asmir didn’t want to argue with him. But he understood this guy’s character a little better now. He wasn’t racist, just uneducated. He called it like he saw it. Asmir’s skin was brown, so he called him brown. Not acceptable but not malicious.

“All right, listen to me, Dick. You have two options. Try to be open to New Zealand, the culture, the food and the weather, or go home. There’s no point in staying here if it makes you mad.”

Dick thought about it for a second. “Do you like England, Asmir?”

“Of course I do, but nowhere near as much as you it seems. It’s my home but it’s not my world. I appreciate other countries for their unique cultures. Do you think you can try and do that?”

There was a pause again. “I guess…”

“Good. Do me a favor, Dick, don’t call anybody else here brown or black. Next time you might not get so lucky.”

“Erm…OK.”

“Oh and don’t wake me up again. I slept on slate last night and I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus,” Asmir said getting up and trudging to the back of the bus.

He didn’t wait for a response. He’d only got two steps before he spotted a small piece of paper all scrunched up on the floor. On public transport or on the street he could’ve easily missed it, but it had caught his eye. He leant down to pick it up and slowly smoothed the edges out. Four words were scribbled on the paper.

“Why are you here?”

He had no idea what it meant but his gut told him it wasn’t good.

“Hey, what was that?” Dick asked from just over his shoulder.

“Err… Nothing. I don’t think it’s anything,” he lied.

Chapter 11

“Rubbish!” Asmir shuddered. Dante was showing him the photographs he had taken at the reserve.

“I’m sorry I’m not up to your standards, Az!”

Each photo Dante showed him he would critique carefully. On some the lighting was wrong. On others Dante had framed the scenery incorrectly. None of the photos were just right. But today he wouldn’t argue with Asmir. He needed the win. Dante let Asmir snatch the camera and continue to cycle through the pictures. Every now and again Asmir would tilt the camera towards Dante and say something like, “Really? You shot this kind of scenery vertically? Come on D, you’re better than that.” Dante just smiled and shrugged like he didn’t know any better. Probably because he didn’t.

They pulled out of the car park just as the elderly group came waddling back down to their stolen YMCA bus. They were huffing and puffing but there were smiles all round. A smile even broke out over Dante’s face. Partially because of the cheery old thieves below but mainly because they were off to their next stop, Waitomo and black water rafting. It was just under 180km which translated into about a two-hour drive. He knew Asmir wanted to sleep so after Asmir told him about the bizarre meeting with Dick Smith, he let him.

The two hours went by very quickly. He had a lot on his mind, most of which he was trying to actively expel. But it was easier thought than done. His subconscious was throwing up all kinds of memories that he was trying to bury, but couldn’t. So he was even more excited when they arrived at Waitomo that afternoon. His first impressions of the town were that it was small and idyllic. But their hostel was just outside the town. It was north-facing and resembled a giant chalet. Cool in the summer but probably chilly in the winter.

The passengers quickly unpacked their bags, some leaving unnecessary bags behind. They were only staying one night here after all. Asmir was refreshed now, but still shot Dick Smith a wary glance on his way out. Dante was not too keen on meeting him after how Asmir had described him. But Dante didn’t like to take other people’s opinions as his own so he reserved his judgement for now.

Asmir had once again booked a two-bed room for them in this hostel. They dragged their luggage into their room and both headed for the bathroom. Dante quickly saw that their room was almost exactly the same as his room in Hot Water Beach. So, while Asmir continued to evaluate it, he headed out onto their very small balcony. It had barely enough space for one person, but he made a point of checking the view. It didn’t disappoint. They had got lucky and been given the top floor. Their room was on the far right-hand side of the building facing north. There were better views in the cente rooms, two or three to their left but Dante was not complaining. Across from them was a forest with several hiking trails leading in. He had done his research and knew there was a small river that cut through this forest and the tour guides had planned to take a walk there in the morning. Balcony doors began sliding open as people checked out their views. One room to their left Becki and Annie popped their heads out first at the view, then turned and saw Dante.