Chapter 22

The meeting ... Wait! Not yet.

The room: Yeah ... the room.

The place was storage ... for things from long ago ... really long ago. Like ... before the English. Before the Dutch. Stuff collected... (stolen) ... from the Māori and hidden away. Not saying that it was taken by the Hotel ... everything had price tags from no longer existing business. Businesses closed during the 1800’s. Police seized articles ... auctions ... garage sales ... estate sales ... found and unclaimed ... amateur archaeologists collections. Just plain scavengers. But not fakes ... the real McCoy.

It all started when Jim Bales (11 left wing for Logan Park) brought a huge wood carving representing a short-legged male with a head almost as big as the body, covered with carved tattoos. Right behind Jim was Albert Boko carrying a fine wood lattice work and behind him was Mattie Smythson carrying a Moa feathered dress.

The three stood in front of me ... questioning.

“Where did you find that?” Mr. Howard and I said almost like twins.

“Where we’re cleaning,” said Mattie.

“Middle window front room,” said Jim.

“There’s lots more,” said Albert.

Mr. Howard asked, “Why that room? It’s been locked and no key.”

Albert, who was tallest, said, “Mr. Howard, you said best view of the water. Key was on the header. Rest of the keys above the other doors.

“I suppose I should look,” Mr. Howard set down his cup and began to rise.

“Don’t. Sit. I’ll go,” I said.

Howard settled back. He’d had a Surprise day. I’m like that.

“Well?” I said, “Lay on McDuff.”

“And be damned to him who first cries Hold! Enough!” said Jim.

Mattie gazed on him, mouth open.

“Mattie,” Jim said, “I’m not just a jock.” He turned to me, “And that’s the first time I’ve heard that line done correctly.”

“Lead on?” I said.

“Yes.”

“Completely different meanings,” I said, “Lead on and Lay on.”

“Yes ... I’ll follow you and Get your sword up ... I’m gonna kill your ass.”

“If you’re going to argue semantics. I’ll clean the room myself.” Howard said, putting the last sip in his belly.

“Sit, sit. I’m going. I’m going.” I said. And proceeded to put actions to my words. Of course I turned away from the stairs.

Mattie giggled.

Albert said, “This way, Miss.”

I redirected my steps. On the way up I said, “This’ll never work, I’m Surprise.”

“You are that. What’s your name,” said Albert.

“Surprise Me Flintkote, Surprise or Melody, if you please,” I said.

“How about Mel?”

“Works. Al?”

“Oh god no ... Al is me Da. Albert, please.”

“Albert it is. How about you two?” As we turned into the hall.

“Mattie,” said Mattie.

Jim said, “Jim or Jimbo, either.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

“Same,” said three voices.

There stood a tall girl with a pad, a pencil and a piece of chalk. As others were bringing things out the door of the center room, they stopped them and gave the object her undivided attention.