“Why? Was it one of their boys?"

"Nup, it was because of the memorial." Geeza stood up and said. "Come with me."

He took them out to the front of the house then pointed at a great towering obelisk standing freely to the side of the house. It was about three metres high and about a metre wide. It was angular and hewn from a dark black marble. It was slightly offset, leaning toward the town and was blemished with lichen and mosses.

"This here is what was put up after the big flood. It was a memorial to the boy swept away, since he was the son of the town’s wealthiest man, the publican. He put it on this hill as a marker to be seen from all around. It was shipped out from Auckland and hauled up here." He patted the stone. "Made of marble, good marble and back then, a shiny thing that caught the first rays of the sun. Town folks loved it. Chinese,” he blew out his lips and raised his eyes. "They hated it! Said it was bad luck. Said the town would come to nuthin’. Said it would bring the fortune of the town to a standstill." He chuckled. "No one wanted to buy this bit of land until I came along."

The city fellow looked again at this monolith. It certainly was an ominous omen. He followed the direction of the lean with his eye and he noted the bad angles of the pyramid-like point. It resembled a finger aiming its accusing direction straight through the centre of town and straight out to the harbour. It was a blight across the plans of a serene and golden fortuned marina. Anything could happen.

"The Chinese left after it was put up. They said it was the cause of their losses in business. The old folk stopped smilin’ and let their vegie patches go wild. They up and moved to Pauanui. Can’t say much could come of that desolate spot." Geeza mused. He headed back to the house.

The city man turned back and looked at the partially derelict old house. Certainly, this relic hadn’t weathered the years too well. He looked back over his shoulder dismally at the obelisk. Could have been a modern day goldmine this town, if only…..

The developer left town as quickly as the Chinese had been said to leave. He left no business cards and most of the town folk breathed a sigh of relief that their haven would be left untouched.

Not long after, the truckie bumped into Geeza on his weekly visit to the shops.

"Geeza, I just wanted to ask you." He sidled up beside the sprightly old man.

"What was it in your story that sent that guy packing? Surely a city type like him wouldn’t be superstitious?"

"Not superstitious in his eyes, maybe. Skilled in ancient thought, he’d call it. I call it hogwash and foolishness. I figured he’d cotton on to that story and push off."

"So you told the story deliberately to send him back to the concrete jungle?"

"I just answered a fool according to his folly."

"It’s a good thing you know the history hereabouts, Geeza."

"It’s a good thing he didn’t."

"Meaning?"

"It was as much hogwash as the ideas he spent years stuffing into his head."

"What about the obelisk?"

"Me old father dragged it out from Auckland. He had a mate who made grave stones and me old father thought he’d like a real big one for his grave. I buried him under it years ago; he’d have laughed to hear that story."

"What about the Chinese? Were they ever here?"

"Dunno mate."

"So none of it was true?"

"Not a word."

The old guy hitched up his plastic bags from the footpath and with a grin marched off on his trek back to the edge of town.