SHORT STORY COUNTRY GIRL by HIRONE WIKIRIWHI The clock on the station tower was at 7 o'clock as Tom Hirai swung his car into a parking lot in Tulle Street. He switched the motor off, and got out of the volkswagen unit that he had recently bought, making sure to collect a parcel which lay on the front seat, before slamming the door shut. The yellow car symbolized his opulence and success in a society that was foreign to the majority of his race. With the parcel tucked under his right arm he hurried on to a maternity annexe in a hospital which stood in the next street. The gifts arranged by his wife, Hine, consisted of a cuddly rug, two dozen napkins, two nylon night dresses, a box of Queen Anne chocolates and some cigarettes and matches. He was on his way to see Tirita his niece. She was eighteen. She had just come from their home village at Manina, three hundred miles north, a week ago. She was now a mother. The child was illegitimate. As Tom walked into the hospital a nurse with a tray of glasses was walking by. “Excuse me, please,” he said politely. “Why yes!” exclaimed the nurse, as she stopped and turned to look at Tom, “what is it?” For a moment Tom stood speechless. The nurse was beautiful, and he forgot his manners, he just stared. His hungry eyes scanned her from head to foot: he knew he was being rude, but he couldn't help himself. The nurse looked impatient; she flushed. “Oh! of course,” stammered Tom. “Can you please tell me how to find the maternity annexe?” he said sheepishly. Formally, and in crisp tones, the nurse pointed to a corridor, “Follow through, and keep turning left, and you can't miss it.” Then she was gone. “Much obliged!” called out Tom at the retreating figure. “Te ataahua o te nehi ra!”1 What a most beautiful nurse. thought Tom, as he went forward. His shoes appeared to run away from him on the slippery corridor floor, and the smell of medicines and food cooking assailed his nostrils. One more turn and he saw the plaque on which he read, “Maternity Annexe”. He went in at one door, and there was no need to call for attention by pressing an electric bell button, the whole place was wide open. Other visitors had preceded him. The ward he went into was full of people. Some of the mothers had dressing gowns over their nighties, and some were playing cards and chattering away excitedly. Carnations and roses were piled heavily upon a long table in the middle of the row of beds. Other men, presumably husbands, sat on chairs beside some of the beds talking to their wives. Soft lights added to the gaiety of the scene, faces beamed in adoring smiles. The place was warm, cosy, and friendly. Tom was impressed. Tirita was in the fourth bed on the right, and Tom had no difficulty in placing her. As he approached she turned away to brush the tears, unbidden but irrepressible tears which filled her eyes. This was Tom Hirai whom she knew as a little girl. Seeing him reminded her of mother and family. Yes, here was Tom, who would breeze into Manina with his wife and family, stay a few days and be off again. He always had gifts for each member of the family, simple gifts brought from a Woolworth chain store in the city in which he had lived now for more than half of his fifty summers. “Kaua e tangi, e Tiri.2 Don't cry Tirita. Don't cry, my dear, come on now. This is your old mate. Remember him! He is still the same. Those were happy days, Tiri. Remember the fat pigeons on the knoll. They oozed with the juices of the miro berry, and those trout. Ten pounders, fresh from the creek at the back of the mill. Come on now. Kaua e tangi.” He stooped down to kiss a moisture laden cheek. “That's better! Hine got these.” He put the parcel on her locker. “How is baby? Can I see her?” Tirita shook her head, as she sat up to face her uncle. She smiled bravely. “Please forgive me, I am so whakama.3 Ashamed. Baby is asleep in there.” And she pointed at a room at the far end of the ward. Tom opened the parcel. “These are for baby, and for you, your favourites … Queen Annes, and these, do you?” pushing the Craven A's toward her. Tirita shook her head again. That was one vice she had not yet adopted. “I haven't started to smoke yet. I am still the same, except for baby. Please sit down, uncle.” “Ah! that's better.” He sat down, glad to get