Page 79 of To Hell With It
‘Perhaps she thought I’d be a while and just went to the shops and borrowed my wallet because she didn’t have hers?’
‘You’re right, she didn’t have hers. She never has hers.’
‘But, she bought me lunch.’ I held on to the hope that perhaps he was wrong, perhaps Eve had changed, turned over a new leaf, but deep down I already knew the truth.
‘Courtesy of the last person before you, I should imagine,’ Pip said.
‘How do you know so much?’ I asked suspiciously.
‘Because I’m her brother.’
‘But her brother lives in America?’
‘Oh, I’m there this time, am I?’ Pip laughed. ‘Usually I’m in Hong Kong or Dubai.’
‘This doesn’t make any sense – why would she lie about you living in America? Why would she do any of this? What about your parents? Your alcoholic father who left when she was ten and your mother who was never around?’
‘At least that bit is true, our dad did used to drink but not anymore and our mum has been trying to get her to come home ever since she left,’ Pip said.
‘But why make it all up?’
‘Eve’s been a compulsive liar for as long as I can remember. Mum and Dad supported her in every way they could but they grew sick of it in the end when she stole from them. At least she dropped you here, she must have liked you, because the last one was left on the side of the road.’
‘Why did you let her wait outside with my bag if you knew what she was like?’ I felt my jaw tighten. ‘Why didn’t you make sure I brought my stuff inside?’
‘I allow people to make their own decisions, without control,’ Pip said softly.
‘Even when you know they are making bad ones?’ I snapped, turning my anger to Pip.
‘In Buddhism, we don’t resist. We are present in a situation without trying to control the outcome of it.’
‘So, what you’re saying is you’d stand by and be present if someone was in trouble but not step in to help them?’
I thought about the flies in the Venus flytrap. That’s what she was. Eve was a Venus flytrap and I was the fly. Pip was the spectator watching (and letting) it all happen.
‘Love is the soul’s motivation, not control,’ Pip pulled me back into the room from my growing frustration. ‘My intention was to give you love through a sound bath and give Eve the freedom to make her own choices, whatever they might be. She is on her own path to enlightenment, as are you.’
‘I can’t believe this,’ I said in shock. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to laugh at Pip or shout at him, but neither would bring back my wallet. ‘How am I going to get anywhere without my wallet?
‘I think I know where you’ll find her,’ Pip said.
‘Where?’
‘She works at Mick’s Orchard, kiwi-fruit thinning. It’s in Te Puke. I can take you there if you like?’
‘How do I know I can trust you? You might be in on all of this?’
‘You could walk, I suppose, but it’s about fifty-three miles to Te Puke and another mile or so out to the orchard. It would take you around eighteen hours. It’s a scenic route if you fancy it – or I could just give you a lift?’
What choice did I have?
ChapterForty-One
An hour and twenty minutes later, I was in Te Puke, greeted by a giant kiwi fruit sliced in half – the one Jack had told me about – and for a moment my anger subsided when I remembered why I was there, to be with Jack again. Then the anger returned and I was filled with rage about what Eve had done – the story about her parents, her brother in America, my bloody wallet. How did she think I would get anywhere? How did she think I would get to Jack?
Pip dropped me off at the end of a dirt track that led to a field and all I could see was a sea of green – rows and rows of kiwi-fruit trees. He’d said goodbye and wished me luck and I still wasn’t sure if he’d been a part of it all – perhaps they were a brother-sister double act – but what did it really matter? I was there now and I was hellbent on getting my wallet back.
I could hear voices in the distance, and as I got closer I could see people scattered about the green rows, their backs arched, their heads up facing the vines as they pulled the kiwi fruits and let them fall to the ground. This was kiwi-fruit thinning. I only knew that because Jack had told me at quiz night when Una had gone on and on about him being a kiwi fruit. He said they left the good ones on the vines and let the bad ones (the wrong size and shape) fall. Any that didn’t measure up, ended up on the ground, which seemed like a crazy waste of kiwi fruits to me – why did it matter what shape they were? They all came out the same way.
