One Night in Foxton

Since Foxton is such a small town it feels necessary to clarify that all the characters in this story are completely fictional. Any resemblances to any real-life persons or events are unintended. This story is merely a tribute to the town I remember and how I imagine it may look like today. With that said, thank you for reading my story. Please leave a comment or rate the piece: it makes this all worthwhile.

***

It was already very late. Our poker night at Cliff's had stretched and I found myself $40 poorer. It wasn't worth being upset over. Not on a clear night like this. Sure enough, clear nights came with a price. The next day wouldn't be as warm as today had been. Still it was nice to see the hundreds of stars.

I'd had a few beers, so I was walking home. Not that it was that far away. It was a ghost town, Foxton, where I lived, with its population of less than 3k. Still, if Officer Marion caught me riding home on a bicycle one more time, it would be a hefty fine.

Therefore, I headed slowly, but safely, toward Union Street. No lights shone in the windows; everyone had gone to bed. No wonder really, at 1 am on a Tuesday.

However, when I did slowly approach my lonely home at the end of the street, something was off. More exactly, it was the Toyota Rav-4 with the weird number plate. I had not seen it before. Slightly drunk as I was, I might've ignored it. But it was too new and way too clean. It stuck out like a sore thumb with its trendy crimson finish. And, oddly enough, it was parked right in front of my house.

But that wasn't the only thing that was off about it. No, it was the girl sleeping inside.

A pretty girl, I thought, clad in a floral dress and cardigan, her blonde hair made up on a big bun on top of her head. There were cute freckles around her nose. Her eye lashes were long, brushing against her high cheek bones. She looked peaceful in slumber, unlike some girls I knew.

I first thought about letting her be, but this was Foxton. She might run into trouble, especially if she had mistakenly thought it to leave her car doors unlocked.

I knocked on the passenger side window.

Almost immediately she snapped awake. Her eyes darted around her, trying orient herself. Then she saw me, waving hello in the window. I had hoped it would've been less of a shock if I wasn't there glaring right back at her through the window next to her. Still, she collected herself quickly and rolled down the window on my side.

"Kia ora, Miss," I nodded in greeting.

"Tena koe," she replied sleepily.

"I didn't wish to wake you," I said apologetically, "but I thought you might need assistance."

She looked at me with her pretty green eyes. Somehow, she seemed a little lost.

"Just hoped to catch Mrs. Greene, that's all," she explained in an accent that sounded faintly American. "She used to live here," she continued, nodding toward the house behind me. "Do you know if she still does?"

"I'm afraid that's now my house," I explained to her. "Mrs. Greene passed away last year. My condolences if you're whanau."

Her lips merely formed an "Oh." But in her eyes, there was neither sadness nor pity. The fact that Mrs. Greene had passed away seemed only an unfortunate fact.

"No," she responded, "I just used to live here with her a long time ago."

"Would you maybe like a cup of tea?" I caught myself offering. "I got a guest room if you'd like to stay the night. It's not safe sleeping in the car."

"I got a room booked in Levin actually," she said.

"Well, then just a cuppa then?" I suggested. It was still a bit of a drive to Levin. Who knows how long she'd been in that car.

"Yeah, I suppose why not," she shrugged. She seemed a little defeated. I wondered if it was all the wasted hours waiting. Maybe she was just too tired to care. After she had closed the window she came out of the car in her summer's dress. At least the night was warm.

I took out the keys from the pocket and unlocked the door to my home, allowing her to enter my humble abode.

Thankfully, in the last few days I had managed to keep the place clean. I rarely had girls come over, unless I decided to throw a party myself. Cassie had left the town months ago to pursue a better life in Wellington. Since then, it had seemed near pointless to keep the place presentable. There was no sex appeal to Foxton. If I wanted to get laid, it would have to be elsewhere.

"You can leave your shoes on. The kitchen's right here." I reflected. "But I suppose you knew that."

She looked around my home absent-mindedly. "Not much has changed," she observed, looking at the floral wallpaper. "You smoke?" she inquired.

"No, I don't."

"Still smells like the old lady's cigarettes in here."

"Yeah," I sighed in embarrassment. No matter how many times I had scrubbed the place the stink would just sit. After the first couple of months, I had simply given up. Just one more reason not to invite people over.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I introduced myself," I told her, hoping to distract her from the rundown of a house. "I'm Ariki Simmons."

Kindly, she looked at me and my extended hand, which she took it with a cordial smile. Her hand was small and delicate.

"Nicole Nebel, nice to meet you."

"If you'd just follow me," I motioned toward the kitchen. Her eyes just kept darting about, making me feel uncomfortably conscious about my living conditions.

She noticed my nervous stare.

"I'm sorry," she giggled. "It's just that it's so very long ago since I was here. Yet this place is almost like I never left. I'm not going to steal anything."

"When were you here last?" I was filling the kettle with water. Miraculously I had found two clean cups in the cupboard. They even matched.

"2008, 2009, around that time." I looked over my shoulder and saw she had remained standing by the doorframe. She toyed with her fingers as she talked, clearly uncertain what to do with herself.

"Just take a seat," I told her, gesturing toward the round table in the middle of the room. "You, eh," I wondered how long she had been in that car. "Have you had anything to eat? I could fix you a sandwich if you like."

Nicole was just propping her bag on the back of the chair she had chosen for herself. Nearest to the exit, I noted. Or maybe it was just because this way she would be facing me. She looked up to me with some relief.

"Quite honestly, I could have a bite."

By all means. "Alright, two sandwiches then."

She didn't seem much of a girl for small talk. She kept on looking about her, wondering at the house that apparently had been her home briefly at some point in her life. She was a nicely built tall girl, clearly athletic. Yet, she somehow managed to look so small and fragile in my kitchen. It worried me some.

"2008, eh? You look about my age. Wouldn't you have been something like 15 or 16 at the time?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"Were you here for a summer or?"

"No, I was an exchange student," she explained. "I attended the college here."

"Is that so?" I chuckled, eyeing her with playful scepticism. "How come I don't remember you then?"

She blinked at me a little surprised. "You went to Horowhenua College as well?"

"I sure did. Graduated in 2010."

"Well, the exchange students did kind of keep to themselves," she tried to explain.

"Yeah but you'd think we would've had some classes together."

"You think I'm lying?" With her eye brows raised, Nicole stared back at me incredulously.

I chuckled.

"No, just messing with you," I assured her. I watched her sigh in relief. I was a little relieved myself, for now she seemed a little more relaxed and comfortable sitting in a stranger's kitchen. The way she'd walked in was like a sheep walking into a slaughter house.

"Where do you come from then?" I asked her, hoping it might jog my memory.

"I'm German. Born and raised in Hamburg. Nowadays I live in Dublin though," she told me. I handed her a hot cup of tea and the egg-cheese sandwiches I had prepared for her. She gratefully thanked me and took a big hearty bite.

"German, huh?" I pondered stirring my tea, while she sat there eating. "The only German exchange student I remember was this quirky girl with a shock of red hair." The memory made me chuckle.

Unexpectantly, that made her freeze. The cup that had already almost touched her lips, was lowered back onto the table.

"That was me," she whispered embarrassed.

"You?" I said genuinely surprised. The girl I remembered was quite different from the woman that now sat in my kitchen. For one her hair was now evidently longer, her attire perhaps bohemian but in a fashionably muted way. The red-headed girl of my childhood, however, she had been bubbly, energetic, maybe even mischievous. Quite the opposite of the woman she'd grown into.

"Yes," she nodded.

"Wow. You've grown up quite nicely." As soon as the words came out my mouth, I regretted them. I was afraid she might not take them as kindly as intended. However, she merely giggled.

"Thank you," she beamed. She was a beautiful woman, especially when she was smiling. She had been a pretty girl, I remembered, but maybe her colourful style had been a little over the top. When had she become so shy?

"I'm sorry that I don't remember you." From the tone of her voice, she was sincerely apologetic.

"I don't think we ever talked so I don't blame you. Also, I knew everyone in this town. You were new to us all."

"Did you also know Mrs. Greene?"

"Not personally but she had a reputation."

She merely nodded. As much as she tried to hide it, her big green eyes seemed to only barely hold back the tears. The subject of the old Mrs. Greene seemed a touchy one.

"Surely you didn't fly all the way around the world to see that old hag?" I said, hoping a subject change would lift her mood. "What brought you back to New Zealand?"

A bit of a grateful spark returned to her eyes.

"Actually, I've come to see an old friend of mine. She lives in Wellington. There are some big changes happening in my life and I wanted to have her involved."

"Big changes?"

She raised her hand to display the mighty diamond ring wrapped around the finger.

"I'm engaged," she shrugged modestly, although she was clearly excited.

"Congratulations!" I wished her whole-heartedly. Of course. Who wouldn't want to put a ring on a pretty girl like her?

"Thank you."

"When's the big day?"

"Next autumn, European autumn that is. September."

"Well, he's a lucky guy to have you," I told her. "So, you're now on your way to Wellington?"

"Exactly."

I wondered how odd it was that a young woman like her should be travelling alone through the North Island. Sure, it's the 21st Century, women can travel by themselves. But why? Why take a detour along the memory lane with no one to share it with?

Nicole kept looking about her, at the yellowed floral wallpaper glued on the walls, the pieces of furniture left behind by Mrs. Greene. I had left everything almost completely as it was, mainly out of laziness, and started the slow and fruitless reno in the upstairs instead. I now regretted that decision. I did not like that haunted look on her face at all.

Finally, she managed to say something.

"Is she really dead?" she whispered, as if fearing the old woman might hear her.

"I would hope so. I saw her buried."

Instead of a chuckle she looked at me confused. "I thought you said you didn't know her."

"I didn't. But I was nonetheless invited to her tangi. Everybody was."

She simply nodded solemnly. Her hands were wrapped around the hot cup of tea, seeking warmth.

"How," Nicole paused, as if she was contemplating whether she even wanted to know. "How did she pass?"

"Well, the woman made more smoke than a Marlborough factory," I told her. "Her body was bound to fail her."

"When?"

"Last autumn."

Again, she merely nodded. There was a queer shine in her eyes, like she was staring at a fire. It sent a shiver down my spine. I wondered if she saw Mrs. Greene squirming in the flames of hell in agonizing pain.

"She wasn't a nice woman, was she?" I whispered.

She merely stared at the imaginary fire in front of her eyes. A blank expression was on her face.

"No," she stated matter-of-factly, "She wasn't."

"Yet you came here to meet her."

"Yeah well, I was in the neighbourhood," she said flatly, clearly finished with the subject. "Everybody else has ditched the town."

"That much is true. People tend to leave." Even Cassie left.

"So, you had a tour about the town? Everything's pretty much as it was."

"No, I didn't," she said thoughtfully. "Could be a good idea, couldn't it? Maybe I might do that tomorrow before I drive down south."

"Well, why not just do it now?" I suggested innocently. It was nice having an attractive woman for company for once. "I could walk with you. It's a nice night."

"Yeah? Would it be safe though?" she pondered. "There was that gang last time I was here."

"It's near 2 am on a Tuesday. Also, they usually make a point not to mess with the locals. They never know whom they might piss off. However, it might be a good idea to get that Toyota into the garage. It's so nice and shiny someone might try to snatch it."

"Oh," she gaped. "Shit. Probably wasn't smart of me to snooze in there?"

"Not at all," I sighed. "But no harm done yet. Just park it in the garage for now if you like."

"Yeah, it would probably be the best," she muttered. Her green eyes examined my face with a hopeful smile. "You'd walk me about?"

"It's a pleasant night and I have tomorrow off. Might be fun." It was good seeing her brighten up. "So, shall we?"

"Absolutely!"

- - -

I had made her wear one of my sweatshirts. It was the newest one. A plain dark green shirt that I had perhaps worn once. It was at least three or four sizes too big for her, but somehow it looked good with her thick honey blonde hair and freckled skin. Fashion aside, the point of it was to keep her warm.

"You brought a bag with you?" Nicole eyed my backpack curiously.

"Yeah. Just some snacks," I grinned at her. "I thought we might have a small picnic by the water tower. Obviously, we can skip it if you want but who knows how well those sandwiches satisfied you."

She blushed a little. "You shouldn't have."

"No, it's just some nuts and fruit I had in the fridge. Nothing fancy."

We were walking north the highway, from parking lot to another. Cars went whizzing by every few seconds or so. It was a busy street, and no wonder: it connected Auckland and Wellington. Anyone ever driven that highway had spent at least a few seconds of their lives in Foxton, whether they knew it or not.

"Good old Foxton," she sighed. "My memory may be hazy, but that gift shop is exactly as I remember it."

"They still have no competitors."

"I think I once counted that there were exactly three cafes in this town. And they all closed at 5 pm." She shook her head in disapproval.

"Well, we have at least five now if you count the diner."

"Is it the same diner further up ahead? I remember the grand opening."

"Yeah, the very same. The American style one, eh?"

She nodded.

"Yeah, that one's still around. We also have Restaurant Bella Vista here." I said pointing at the brown building at the corner of a street. Among the colourful patchwork of detached bungalows, it stuck out because of its distinctive pointy tower. "You may recognize the building. It was just a café earlier."

"Oooh. Is it open past 5 pm?"

"Until 9. Would you believe?"

Her giggles chimed in the cold night air.

"Still no McDonald's though?" she said with an incredulous smile.

"No, there's one in Levin. It serves."

She shook her head again.

"What has changed then?" she mused.

"Well, one of the cafés closed and it was replaced by another, except this one is also an ice cream shop."

Playfully she stepped on one of the concrete bannisters, balancing herself forward. "That's nice. Is the ice cream any good?"

"Yeah, it's pretty good." I had only been there once or twice since it opened but there was nothing wrong with the product. "Their hokey pokey was decent."

Eventually the time came to cross the street. Since it was a highway, it wasn't exactly cluttered with traffic lights. I simply chose a spot and looked left and right for traffic. She looked as well beside me. Gingerly she hooked her arm on mine, much to my surprise. I didn't let it show, but it cheered me that she should be that comfortable around me so soon after making my acquaintance.

We hurried over the street and resumed our talk sporadically. She asked of people living there, wondered who had stayed and who had left. She didn't seem surprised to learn that so many people who had once been her peers had moved on to Auckland or Wellington, but she seemed happy to find out that their families often remained.

"Have you ever been outside of New Zealand?" she asked me eventually.

"I've only been to Japan and Australia." And I considered myself lucky. Many people had never even visited the South Island.

We talked of our individual experiences of Japan, what we had liked. It seemed we both agreed on it being something quite different. She told me some about herself: about her career in banking and how come it was that she'd moved to Dublin and met her hubby-to-be there. His name was Patrick, a son of some hot-shot's who'd made a name for himself in marketing. She seemed very proud of her fiancé. It upset me more than I dared to show. If only she was single.

While she was busy chattering with me, we walked deeper into the suburbs. Soon she became very aware of her surroundings.

"We are nearby the school, aren't we?" she asked me quietly.

"Horowhenua College," I nodded. "Thought you might like to see it. Or are you getting unsavoury flashbacks from being bullied?" I teased her. I knew she was well-liked back in the day.

"No," she said, "But the gate is surely closed. This is practically a dead-end for us."

"Afraid of a bit of trespassing, are we?" I teased her further. "You don't think the cops in town have something better to do?"

Her face turned sour. The metal fence was now before us. The college buildings stood off on the other side of the rugby field in distant quiet. Hesitantly she eyed the two-and-a-half-metre high fence with her arms crossed. She didn't approve of it.

"You don't think you can climb it?" I asked her with a wide grin. "I could boost you."

"And you think you can climb it?" she threw the challenge back at me.

"I know I can."

"Then why not just climb it and open it from the inside. I'm wearing a dress," she hissed.

"That's just video game logic," I laughed heartily. "It will be just as locked from that side as it is from this one."

She frowned.

"I know you could climb it." She was a fit girl. It would be a piece of cake.

She stood there a while in silence, looking angrily back at me and then at the fence.

"Fine," she said. "But don't look up my skirt."

I did as she asked, albeit unwillingly. With a small boost she was easily on top of the fence, moving like nimble cat. Softly she dropped herself on the other side, with more grace than I could ever muster. She placed her hands on her hips with a triumphant smile on her face.

"And now you come over," she taunted me.

The grin never faded off my face. It was time to reveal my cards. Out of my pocket I pulled out a ring of keys and picked the familiar silver one. It fit into the lock seamlessly. With a snap the door was open, and I was on the other side of the fence to lock it.

"Why do you have a key?" she demanded to know. "Why would you make me climb it?!"

It was impossible not to laugh with the incredulous look on her face as it dawned on her that she had been played. While I laughed, she began disapprovingly hitting my chest with her fists, but not hard enough for it to hurt. Rather it was more like a massage.