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fear of being caught in the act. He softened his glow as much as he could. Shane continued tossing backwards and forwards, tugging his quilt around with him. Then, with a sleep-laden moan, he was still.
    David looked into Shane’s mind to see if he could find the cause of his restlessness. Everything was dark and shadowy. There was movement. Strange figures lurched menacingly from the shadows, their eyes frosted like bathroom windows, their forms distorted by the pulsating strength of Shane’s dream. Therewere noises from nowhere and resonating through the darkness. It was unsettling David so it must’ve been terrifying Shane.
    Then came the panic. The feeling that something was creeping up on you about to grab you, bite you, steal you away. There were noises, a growl, a groan, a hissing breath, a scream!
    David pulled out. ‘Whoa! That’s some nightmare.’ He looked down at Shane and felt the strong emotional need to be the protective big brother. He suddenly thought of times when he hadn’t been. Like when the Baker boys had stolen Shane’s soccer ball at the park. They were bigger than Shane and had known David was too sick to fight. They’d stalked their prey with the terrifying menace of two crazed hyenas. They’d fought Shane, pushed him to the ground, hit him hard and laughed.
    David had wanted to leap from hiswheelchair, get hold of them and wring their scrawny necks. He’d wanted energy and strength to match the anger that had burnt inside him. But he was too weak; all he could do was yell. Yell for help, yell for somebody else to come and do what he couldn’t.
    It was Aunt Sue who’d come to the rescue. Out of the kiosk she’d flown, reviving her stage role as a vampire, showing her fangs and screaming for blood. She’d scared the living daylights out of the little creeps.
    It’d made David laugh and Shane happy but deep down David had felt as though he’d let his brother down. Any other big brother would’ve been able to sort those little toe rags out, but not David — pathetic, weak David.
    At least this time he could do something to help. He had the power, the strength and the tricks. He lay next to Shane on the bunk, closed his eyes and brightened his body glow. Whitesoul sparks fell gently onto Shane’s body like tiny distress flares.
    â€˜Are you ready, Shaney boy?’ he whispered playfully. ‘Cause here we go.’
    Smiling broadly, David began to feed Shane dreams: bright dreams, happy ones. Dreams only an angel could offer. He made Shane a basketball hero, showed him what it felt like to fly and took him back to relive some of their favourite times together.
    Shane’s face was sculpted with peaceful serenity. A wisp of hair fell across his eyes. David brushed it away with a feather touch. He was happy with his work.
    â€˜I’ve got to go now, Shane,’ he said, sitting up and pushing himself off the bunk. ‘I’ll see you soon, I hope.’ Sad to be leaving but happy to see Shane contented, David faded away.
    For the rest of the night Shane skipped from one fantastic dream to another. It was like asupernatural computer game. He moved from being a basketball hero to fabulous flights through clouds and over mountains, then back into happy memories. What a journey, what an adventure!

The Snowball Fight
    Shane thought his father looked ridiculous. He had so many clothes on he looked like Humpty Dumpty. His arms flapped at his sides with the clumsiness of a penguin’s wings. He had a red and blue woollen hat pulled down to his eyebrows and a scarf covering his neck and mouth.
    â€˜I’m ready,’ he huffed, in a muffled voice. ‘Let’s go to the ski hire place and get started.’ He put his sunglasses on and headed for the door.
    â€˜Hang on,’ Jenny growled. ‘Shane and I aren’t ready yet! We need our coats and gloves from the car.’
    Grumbling, Rob set off to