Whare Potae (The House of Mourning)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Author's Note: Sorry for having so many days recently with no updates, guys. Thanks for your patience. The play has been cast! Now I just need to sit here for the next several hours waiting for "yes I accept this role" or "no, screw you, Mercy, this role is stupid" calls from the actors so that I can send out the main cast list and schedule the rehearsals...

Nothing to do but write while I wait, is there? *dramatic sigh* Oh well, if I must, I must! ;)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

After a brief conversation with the ocean and an hour or so spent fishing from the canoe, Maui and Moana returned to the village just in time to deliver lunch.

This time, there were slightly fewer curious lunchtime onlookers, and Maui ate with Moana's family around the side of the house, near the warmth of the earth-oven, where Sina had cooked the whitehead fish he'd brought. Moana sat beside her father and her cousin, Rangi, while her mother and Whetu entertained the cranky old grandmother who Maui now understood was some distant relation, the sister of Rangi's grandfather, or something of that kind.

"So, Maui," began Whetu conversationally and a bit too loudly, obviously doing her best to make up for the nasty glares the old grandmother was giving him. "Don't you think your wife's beginning to get worried about you? How long has it been since you've been home? Weeks? Months? Don't you think you ought to go see her, at least for a few days? If my husband had been away for all that time, I don't know what I'd do."

"Oh," said Maui. "Yeah, well, about that; actually, she's not-!"

"You're married?" Moana looked shocked.

Hastily, Maui shook his head. "Nope, no, I'm not married. No."

The grandmother gave him a nasty look.

"And how do you think Hina would feel, if she heard you say a thing like that, hmm? You're just a man like any other, I suppose. Throw your wife over so easily, don't you, on the hunt for the next hot little thing in a skirt." She sighed.

Tui looked startled and coughed, but Maui couldn't totally deny having had some moments like that in his past, so he didn't take too much offense. He even managed not to look embarrassed.

"Hina," retorted Maui, "probably wouldn't care one way or another, because she's been dead for thousands of years."

He was more than a little maliciously pleased to see the alarmed look on the old grandmother's face.

That shut her up pretty fast, he thought. Hah!

Maui turned back to Moana.

"The legend goes," he explained, "that I had a wife named Hina, right? Major misunderstanding. Look, the truth is, Hina was my older sister; just as mortal as the rest of my family. She and I showed up together to the wedding of some distant cousin of my brother's wife, and since nobody at the party knew her, they figured she was my date. Turned into a whole series of legends about me and the goddess Hina, but none of it's true. I'm not married, she's not a goddess, end of story."

He shot the grandmother a look, but she was just glowering at him, now.

"So, in response to your question, ma'am," he said to Whetu, who he figured had just made an honest mistake, "there's no one waiting for me at home; nothing to worry about there."

He glanced at Moana out of the corner of his eye, half-hoping she'd be obviously relieved to discover that he wasn't taken after all, but instead she just looked interested, and maybe a little sad.

"So," she asked, "were you and your sister close?"

Maui frowned, and wondered if, by mortal standards, they had been close. It had been such a long time ago; nostalgia and resentment had gotten in the way since then. He honestly couldn't remember.