Jake's Long Shadow by Alan Duff

the party sooner. And they talked about rugby, mostly, as every Kiwi man does. Rugby and sex, the latter’s mention so frequent it must be as natural as breathing. Though there were a few who disdained this sex talk culture, Abe Heke being one.
    Busby was a good company to work for, you worked hard to set production targets and got paid a bonus by how much you exceeded the target. The firm paid well, too, above award rates and never did anyone complain of a fiddle with the bonus payments. Dave Busby was an honest man who played everything straight and expected you to play it the same with him.
    Early in the party proceedings he eased Abe aside and had a frank chat with him. Told Abe he was one of his best workers and, furthermore, he hada bright future with the firm, or one day with his own sheetmetal business.
    But Abe wasn’t quite ready for this kind of talk, not to break away from the security of good employment, a guaranteed wage every week. So he just listened politely and said nothing.
    Then the boss told Abe he reminded him of a good rugby player who was yet afraid to match himself against the best. Now Abe, being a Heke even though it was his Heke genes and background he was trying to disavow most (yet couldn’t drop the name), felt his juices rising to Dave Busby’s words, and he shook his head vigorously and said he wasn’t afraid of anyone.
    Except the boss told him he misunderstood. I’m saying that you owe to yourself, the potential you have, to make a genuine effort to realise that potential, or life becomes as average as your fellow workmates’, much as I like and appreciate their contribution. But, between me and you, I’m not sure I have deep respect for them except as fellow human beings. And why? Because they refuse to stretch themselves, they stay well within their comfort zone. Is that what you want for Abe Heke?
    Abe wasn’t sure what he wanted. He’d kind of thought this job here was it, as far as he could go, being a steady rise to a foreman’s position, even though the boss demanded his foreman have qualifying papers, meaning Abe would have to sit exams and stuff. He thought he’d get his head around doing that one day; and one day he’d wake up and find himself, what, forty, and then it would be fifty, and he could say if he achieved anything then at least he’d broken the curse of being a violent Heke.
    The boss said he didn’t want to spoil Abe’s fun, just give him something to think about.
    After two hours everyone was talking more freely, and teasing the birthday boy, Errol, to make a speech, or pull his trousers down and show the boys what he wasn’t made of, do a brown-eye, that kind of worker’s joke. So Errol said a few words, and with some emotion, too, as he’d been with the firm for all his fourteen years of working life and loved the company, which was really his way of saying he loved the boss for giving him the comfort zone. As they all did. Giving back in return.
    The more beer they drank, the more the younger bloods talked about fighting than anything else. Except the one who could fight but never did, Abe Heke. He didn’t have their chips to shoulder, or their sense of physical inferiority. Though he was aware working men especially have a need to be respected physically, even when they don’t have the equipment to deserve it.And when they saw that a big powerful specimen like Abe, and a Maori at that, didn’t throw his weight around, they, the more immature ones, liked to be in his company, sucking up to him.
    They even shaped up to him, playfully of course, for it made them feel good doing that to a man clearly their physical superior. He didn’t mind. Let them be whatever they were or thought they were. Abe just wanted to mind his own business, stick at this job, which gave him a feeling of comfort such as he’d never experienced before. (If it wasn’t for the boss putting confusing thoughts in my mind.)
    Basic, decent, reasonably hard-working, ordinary