CHAPTER 1

SHAKY GROUNDS

"JUST A TRUCK passing," said Alex, laughing.

"Well it's so unnerving. Every time I hear a truck passing I think,hello another one," replied Bruce, as he composed himself and withdrewhis hands from the balcony rails. Alex, meanwhile took another biteout of his Boston bun, smacked his lips, then turned to Bruce. "Don'tworry it's just another moment in time. It will soon all blow over."

Bruce reached for his cup and took a sip of tea. This did seem tohelp calm his nerves. Apart from the fear of another earthquake oraftershock, it was very pleasant sitting on the balcony eating lunch ona sunny day.

"It's all bumpy roads from now on," added Alex.

"Yes, I had noticed a lot of road works around the city. Theearthquake caused a lot of sags and bumps, as well as broken pipes."Bruce produced a ginger biscuit and dunked it into his tea then bit offthe softened biscuit end. He had learned this trick from his parents. Itseemed to be an English tradition.

"That's not quite what I was getting at," clarified Alex. "I sort ofmeant it more figuratively."

"Like the future of the cathedral after all the earthquake damage?"

"Yes, and like demolishing most of the tall buildings in the centralbusiness district," added Alex. "Then there are seven thousand plushouses in the red zone."

"All to be demolished?"

"Yes, I would think so," replied Alex, "as well as many otherdestroyed houses in other parts of the city. But enough talk aboutthe Christchurch earthquake. I hear you've been travelling your ownbumpy roads."

"Bumpy roads! Bumpy roads! More like a dead end road gettinghim to pay his rent. When we signed up Marty for the flat his partnerwas a lovely lady, though he was a skinhead with tattoos. But myuncle used to say people shouldn't stereotype, so I put aside all mypreconceptions and agreed to their tenancy."

"Bad move?"

"Say that again."

"Bad move," repeated Alex, jokingly.

"I meant figuratively," responded Bruce who was not amused.

"Anyhow, not long after renting they split up. Unfortunately it wasMarty who stayed on. We got the raw end of the deal. His ex, who wasthe mother of his children, then moved in."

"So, she was no good?"

"No, she was fine. But this relationship didn't last either. He hadn'tbeen long back with her before he was once again playing the field.Naturally, when she found out he was having an affair, she left him."

"And the flat?"

"Yes."

"Another raw deal?"

"Very much so. From there on it was all down hill." Bruce tookanother sip of tea and dunked his biscuit again. He was clearly nowagitated, this time having to steady his hand as he held the cup to hislips.

"Gee wiz, it sounds rather like the storyline of a TV soap,"commented Alex. "I have always considered soaps as rubbish and notworth watching, but I guess we live in our own little cocoons and don'trealise how differently the other half live."

"Yes, it is hard to believe. Anyhow everything turned to custard. Heseemed to mix with the wrong crowd and from there payments ceaseddespite promises he would pay the rent owing."

"So you took him to the Tenancy Tribunal several weeks ago?"

"I had no choice but to evict him. I can't afford to have a tenantwho doesn't pay his rent, especially when the bank still expects me topay the interest on the mortgage. These tenants think we are rippingthem off, but they don't realise landlords have overheads like rates,insurance and mortgage interest."

"The Tenancy Tribunal?" prompted Alex.

"Well quite straight forward; just a lower level court—an adjudicatorinstead of a judge, and a stenographer to record the proceedings."

"Yes, but what happened?"

"I presented my case and a folder of evidence and the tenantresponded. Then the adjudicator asked a few questions and arrived ather decision."

"So he turned up then?"

"Yes, but late. The adjudicator wasn't at all impressed. At the endof the hearing she issued an eviction notice and an order for him torepay outstanding rents."

"And the eviction date?" questioned Alex, as he unwrapped anotherBoston bun.

"By midnight tonight, Alex."

"So you will be going around at midnight to check out yourproperty?"

"No, we will go around tomorrow morning and I will update younext week at work."

The next morning Bruce and his wife arrived at the flat. Brucecarefully lifted up the flap of the letterbox and suspiciously peered in.

"Sweetie, what on earth are you doing?" asked Janice.

"Well, I asked Marty to leave the key in the box, but you neverknow he may have put a mouse trap in there."

"Oh, for goodness sake, you are paranoid. We've been very goodlandlords. He is hardly likely to be out to get us."

"Well, it's better to be safe than sorry."

Bruce retrieved the key from the box and both walked down thedrive to the house. Bruce tried the front door. It was locked.

"There you go a tenant who leaves the key as instructed and locksthe door behind him can't be too bad. Sweetie, if he was going to trashthe house then he wouldn't have made an appearance at the tribunal."

Nevertheless, Bruce somewhat apprehensively turned the doorknoband edged the door slowly open.

As the door parted, they were greeted by a fowl smell of cigarettefumes.

"They were told they weren't to smoke inside," complained Bruce."This smell will be hard to remove. It will have permeated the ceiling,walls, drapes, carpets ..."

"Carpets! My new carpet; they've put ink all over my new carpet....and, and my drapes—my nice new drapes as well."

"That's not all," growled Bruce. "The imbecile has put his fistthrough all the internal doors and kicked holes in the bedroom wall."

".... And the mirror where is it? Sweetie, they've stolen your mum'svaluable mirror. I did wonder if it was safe leaving it in the house whenwe were renting it out."

Bruce and Janice spent the whole weekend cleaning up the house. Itwas a pigsty. The carpets required vacuuming, the fowl-smelling drapesdry cleaning and rubbish scattered over the floors needed removing.Outside, the lawns were just as bad. They obviously hadn't been cutfor at least a month. Trips had to be made to the rubbish dump as thetenants had thoughtfully left an expired refrigerator and other rubbisharound the property. There were three council rubbish bins available:green for organic, red for trash and yellow for recyclable. However, thetenants were obviously colour-blind and the bins required reloading.These had to be the tenants from hell.

Bruce was pleased to come back to work after a trying weekend. Hehad plenty to tell Alex at lunchtime. It was a wet day so Bruce joinedAlex at a cafeteria table instead of braving the balcony.

Alex pushed aside the newspaper he had been reading and lookedup at Bruce. "So, have you been to the police? After all, it was not justvandalism. It was also theft."

"Yes, but the police weren't that interested. Apparently, it is notsufficient evidence of theft even though the house had deadlocks,windows locks, and the tenants had the only key to the house. Youhave to prove they took the mirror. Anyhow, with the tribunal rulinghis name will be mud. No landlord will want him."

Alex pushed the paper in front of Bruce "They certainly won't. Didyou see the front page of the newspaper? There's a lot in there about theshortage of houses since the earthquake and look, here is a solo mumwho has tried everywhere and cannot get a house to rent. Apparently,a lot of people are sleeping in cars."

"Yes, but look how many houses this woman lived in over the lastyear," pointed out Bruce. "She was obviously a bad tenant to have beenin so many houses. I certainly won't be taking her in as my next tenant."

Alex grabbed the paper back turning the page. "Here's anothercase. This bloke has had to resort to living in a corner of his mate'sgarage surrounded by all his lifetime possessions."

"Let me see?" said Bruce, reaching over to look at the picture andread the article.

"My gosh, that's Marty and there's my mirror."

CHAPTER 2

THE TREE

STANDING TALL IN all its majesty is the eucalyptus tree. It is anicon upon a house-dotted hillside; the four huge trunks towering fortymetres and dwarfing the neighbouring houses. Crowned with a generousarray of branches and emerald-type leaves it is indeed a royal sight tobehold. For those living on the plains below, it is something naturaland pleasing to the eye, as opposed to a hill completely smothered byhouses.

Perched high on the hill above the frost line overlooking theNew Zealand Canterbury Plains, the tree enjoys the mild winters andwarm summer months. These are not too dissimilar to its Australianhomeland, though there are no koala bears to feast upon its leaves.

Throughout the year its welcoming branches provide a sturdy perchfor the large indigenous New Zealand woodpigeon; their presencebeing announced by a distinctive "whooshing" sound as their wingsslice through the air. These shiny green-purple birds, with a white bib-like breast, enjoy swooping and occasionally making steep parabolicdives as they fly between the high branches of the eucalyptus tree andother tall trees across the valley.

Autumn has now passed and with the onset of winter they arejoined by the call of the indigenous bellbird; always in fine concert voice.Delighting the neighbourhood and echoing through the valley theirchorus is likened to the chiming of bells. These birds are much smallerthan the woodpigeon and enjoy the safety of the higher branches. Themales are an olive green, while the females a duller olive brown.

Their finale is reached as summer approaches. The tree nowprepares for the pains of summer as the hot, dry northwest wind ripsthrough its branches and strips the trunks of bark. Broken branches,leaves and stripped bark are uplifted and scattered over neighbouringproperties, clogging roof guttering, and littering paths and gardens.

The neighbours then do not share the same sentiment towards thetree. They want it cut down. It creates work clearing guttering, pathsand gardens. But this is a highly valued tree under a protection order.It cannot be removed. For them this tree is a nuisance; obscuring viewsof the city, and endangering those living nearby. Besides, if the treeis removed then some properties would increase in value and somesections might be suitable for subdivision.

It is now late February and autumn is approaching. The strongdry northwest winds will become less frequent and the tree will regainsome reprieve from the strong winds. Suddenly, the ground shakesviolently as a powerful earthquake explodes from the depths. Theeucalyptus tree shakes in motion, and in the process tears a root to oneof its four trunks. As the shaking continues the wound becomes deeperand more serious. It seems that life is drawing to an end as the trunkstarts to slide into a tilt, and with a death-rattle creek it finally seversfrom the remaining tree. The trunk falls slowly and gracefully, beforesmashing its way through boundary fences. It comes to rest acrossfour neighbours' properties. One of the smaller branches falls onto aneighbour's Mercedes leaving the owner with an expensive dent. Thetree is now crippled having lost one of its four trunks with the otherthree continuing to precariously remain upright. A large aftershockand death will come knocking as the remaining trunks part company.

The neighbours are not pleased with the pending danger of theremaining trunks falling onto a house. They are now able to persuadethe authorities to have the protection order lifted. Little time is wasted inorganising tree fellers and wood merchants, and their plan is executed.The once magnificent tree is unseated from its hillside throne and isleft lifeless on the ground. Various insect types are quick to infiltrateits armour and feast on the tender meat underneath. The once richgreen emerald leaves start to fade and curl in the sun, to eventually rotaway—earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; such is life.

In the place of the bellbirds the obtrusive high pitched, penetratingsound of chainsaws echo for over a week through the valley andneighbourhood, as the wood merchants cut through the metre-thicktrunks. This will make excellent firewood and will be warmly receivedby many families over winter. With large commercial chainsaws thewood merchants slice the trunks into rings that are wheeled over toa wood-splitting machine. This axe-head shaped cutter draws downsplitting the rings again and again into a number of fire logs. Trailerload upon trailer load of fire logs are carted away. The wood merchantsare very happy to have a free supply of firewood.

Once the wood merchants have taken the best cuts, homehandymen with toy chainsaws emerge from out of the depths of theneighbourhood. They take what is left leaving only a trail of sawdust.This too, doesn't remain for long as green-fingered neighbours appearwith sacks and shovels.

The neighbours are happy with the tree having been removed.But the woodpigeons never return and the neighbourhood does missthe warmth of the bellbirds chorus over winter. All that remains is anempty, boring section with the violated carcass, of a once majestic treerotting into the ground.

CHAPTER 3

JUST WATER UNDER THE BRIDGE

"COME ON," BELLOWED Laura. "We're on a tight schedule."However, Gary was very laid back and would not be rushed. There wasplenty of time. A quick visit to his daughter's house, then they wereoff to the theatre. He needed to look smart. Laura had talked him outof wearing a suit; her preference being casual. In the absence of a suithis favourite navy work trousers would suffice. He took pride in hisappearance and searched out a matching shirt and tie.

Laura now looked somewhat distraught after checking her watch.She held more firmly to a plastic bag of baby items she had put togetherfor her daughter.

"Come on."

Gary sauntered towards the doorway checking as he went thathe had the tickets for the play. He loved live theatre and was lookingforward to this latest play everyone was raving about. But first theywere to visit their daughter.

"It will be good seeing the new renovations Kay and Herbert havedone," commented Gary as he closed the door behind them.

"And the baby," reminded Laura.

"Yes of course."

"Look Hayley, here's Granddad and Grandma," announced Kay,as Laura and Gary came through the doorway.

"Oh, isn't she cute?" commented Laura. "Look dear."

"Yep!" responded Gary. "So let's see these renovations," he added,turning towards Herbert.

"We can do that later, Dad," Kay said directing them to the lounge,where everyone took a seat.

"I must have a cuddle," said Laura placing the three-week old babyagainst her chest.

"Oh, you are a little cutie," said Laura. "What a lovely little smile."

"Dad might want a cuddle too."

"I'm sure he would love a cuddle," insisted Laura.

"No, really I'm fine," reassured Gary.

"Herbert is now also able to change nappies. Would you like tochange a nappy Dad?"

"No, granddads don't do nappies. I did my share when you childrenwere little. I will leave this job to you and Herb."

"I did the last nappy," commented Herb, who felt quite accomplishedin this big step of becoming a father.

"Here," said Laura, planting the baby onto Gary's lap.

"Now where are these renovations?"

All but Gary and the babe rose from their seats. Gary was toonervous to put the baby across his chest and follow. These newbornbabies were so delicate with their floppy little heads that needed support."Hey! What about me?"

"You're doing just fine," commented Kay.

"Looks quite the doting granddad," added Laura laughing.

"Now I know what it's like to be left holding the baby," commentedGary, as the others disappeared out the lounge doorway. Thankgoodness the baby was asleep peacefully on his lap, or was she? As theothers departed, her tiny eyes started to squint and her little jaw beganto quiver. Then the bottom lip dropped and all hell broke loose. Thebaby's pale little cheeks quickly gained colour as she bellowed. Kayquickly returned to relieve the doting granddad of his love and joy.

"You've upset little Hayley," she said picking the babe up from herfather's lap. "Ook; she's had a leak. At the time I thought Herb had putthat nappy on a bit too loose." Kay carefully took the baby away andplaced her on a change mat, apparently unconcerned about the shadeof yellow spread across the front of her dad's navy blue pants. Yellowand navy blue was not a good match.

"Don't worry, dear," commented an amused Laura, as she wipedGary's pants clean, leaving a damp wet patch. "Not quite as bad as splitpants in public, though it does look like you have had an accident. Whatwill they think at the theatre?"

"That's what I am afraid of," commented Gary. "I certainly hopeit dries out before we get there, otherwise it will be humiliating."Gary borrowed his daughter's hair dryer, but the wet patch would notdisappear. It seemed like he had been left with a stain.

On the way to the theatre, Gary stopped and purchased a newspaper.This came in quite handy when they entered the theatre as Gary wasable to hold it in front concealing his embarrassment.