“Kia ora, Hoani. It’s been a long time, eh?”

“There’s a familiar voice”, thought John, “My old army mate Tama.” John felt elated, and a little confused. “What are you doing here? Where are you?”

“Over here, mate, come on, you’re going the right way.”

John followed the path, climbing gently in the setting sun. There was Tama, his brother Rangi – with a small child, Arthur, Ron, and Bill. Smiling, so happy to see him. Handshakes and love all around.

“What are you boys doing here, and who is this child?” asked John.

“We have been waiting for you”, Rangi said, “Remember? We made a pact before the shooting started that because we were brothers-in-arms we would never be separated, and so we waited. For you. You are the last. And this, this is my mokopuna.”

“Your grandchild? But you were never married.”

Rangi smiled his crooked smile. “You don’t have to be married to make a baby. Queenie and I had a big farewell on the beach, the last night in Gisborne. I never knew, but it turns out we made a daughter, Marama, in memory of the moon that night, and she had this boy here. One day things went a bit wrong – I went to meet him and brought him back with me so he wasn’t alone. It’s good now.” The boy smiled shyly.

“Are we – are we really – I can’t say it!” asked John, frowning at the thought.

“Yes, mate, it’s ok”, said Ron, “We stayed here waiting for you. When peace was declared you went home and carried on with life. Now you’re done with it, we can carry on like we started out – together, brothers in our real family.”

“You waited all this time – for me?”

“Well, time here is different, and besides, we didn’t have anything else to do. We watched you and watched over you the whole way, the good times and the bad. You were never really alone. And now we’re back together. We can get on the road now, if you want to.” Ron looked around to John and the others. They nodded, and followed into the sea breeze.

Manifesto
01. Every day is a fresh new day.
24. Every day is a journey. Not a destination.
50. Every day has an ending.

The triceratops eyed me shakily. I took that for a yes.

“Mr. T – what’s your thoughts on MPs blowing tax payer money on extravagant international travel? On the economic conditions? Global warming? World peace? The whole shebang?”

The triceratops looked me square in the eye and said, “Are you insane? I am a plastic toy used in this cafe to signal to the serving staff that the food they’re heating and the coffee they’re bringing is for you. Do you not see the irony that some of my ancestors gave up their lives to become the oil that formed the plastic that I’m made out of? And – reality check – that bottle of sauce. It’s not fuel for rockets. OK? Get a grip.”

I noticed all the other plastic dinosaurs were staring at us so we ate up quickly and left.

Manifesto
17. Every day look through a new lens.
28. Every day you will be tested.
32. Every day have a laugh.

There is an immutable conflict at work in life and in business, a constant battle between peace and chaos. Neither can be mastered, but both can be influenced. How you go about that is the key to success. — Philip Knight

It’s been a weekend of work here. My Dad’s generation wouldn’t have recognised it as being work – there’s no sweat so there’s no work. Fortified with coffee and potato crisps I’ve spent the last couple of days building web sites for customers. Some tv wandered past – I didn’t watch. Some cds were played – I didn’t listen. So, where to from here? I climb into my head and wrestle code and negotiate with the web hosting people and juggle this and jungle that. And when I finally climb back out of create mode it’s time for hot coffee and real food. I’m tired and ready for a hot shower and a sleep. It might not be sweaty work, Dad, but it’s work nevertheless.

Manifesto
41. Every day use your mind. It is the greatest technology ever created.
44. Every day remember how far you have come.
50. Every day has an ending.