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Authors: Barry Jonsberg
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thought most students would have left the building, I thanked him and gathered up my books. Leah was waiting for me in the corridor.
âGetting the bus, Michael?â
Normally I would have been pleased to walk with her. I was touched she had waited for me. But I had business to attend to.
âThanks, Leah, but Iâve got something to do. Iâll get the bus later.â
After sheâd gone, I waited in the corridor for a minute and then left the school grounds by a side entrance. A few kids were hanging around, but they didnât bother me. Down the road I found a bench to sit on, and waited. I had a clear view of the school. I needed to check something. It was crazy. It was impossible. But my heart wouldnât stop hammering.
After twenty minutes the stooped figure of Mr Atkins appeared at the main entrance. He walked straight past the staff car park and left the grounds by a side gate. This was a bonus. I had expected him to get in a car. A rego was all I had hoped for. I waited until he was some way down the road and then followed. If he turned around, heâd spot me. Someone of my size is difficult to miss. Mr Atkins, though, seemed deep in thought. I stayed as close as I could.
It was madness. What happens in the Dream is the product of my brainwaves. It has nothing to do with the outside world, the real world. But the visit to Mrs Atkins had been strange. It wasnât just the way the dog seemed to sense me. It wasnât even that I couldnât fully control Mrs Atkinsâs reactions. I patted my pocket, and I almost hoped I would find that Mrs Atkins wouldnât bear any resemblance to my creation. Mr Atkins probably wouldnât even have a dog. But I couldnât still the rush of excitement in my blood.
Mr Atkins took a totally different route to the one I had followed at lunchtime. I suppose he might have been heading somewhere other than home, but it didnât seem likely to me. After twenty minutes, he turned into the drive of an elevated house in a quiet street. This took me by surprise, but I quickened my steps and was across the street and watching as he went in the front door. I sat down on the grass for a few moments. I was sweating from the walk and my legs felt rubbery. I waited until my heart stopped hammering. Then I started a slow walk back to the bus stop. I needed to think.
Mr Atkins did have a dog. It jumped up at him as he searched for his house keys. It wasnât the dog in the Dream. The real dog was brown, rather than black, but it was about the same size and roughly the same breed. But the main thing that bothered me was Mrs Atkins. She opened the door while Mr Atkins was fumbling with his keys and trying to stop the dog from jumping.
I saw her for only a few moments. But she was the twin of the person in the Dream. Her hair was the same, her tired, shuffling walk the same. Only the clothes were different. Maybe the dog and Mrs Atkins could have been dismissed as coincidence. Even the glimpse I caught of her eyes as she leaned to kiss her husband on the cheek could have been argued away. Even though Iâm good with eyes and would have sworn they were the same.
The clinching thing was the bulge in the pocket of my shirt. A lump of sugar. How did it get there? I popped it into my mouth and felt the sweetness crumble on my tongue. It tasted like proof.
When I got home, Dad was still at work. Mary opened the door and gave me a big hug.
âHey, you,â she said. âGuess what? Youâve had a visitor. Someone from school.â
My mind was still swimming with the possibilities of sugar. Even so, my heart skipped a beat.
âLeah?â I said. âShort girl, with hair that curls under her chin?â
Mary laughed.
âIn your dreams, mate,â she said. âNo, this was a boy. Said his name was Martin. Youâve only missed him by ten minutes.â
4 .
âHe was charming, that Martin. Said he was a friend of
âGetting the bus, Michael?â
Normally I would have been pleased to walk with her. I was touched she had waited for me. But I had business to attend to.
âThanks, Leah, but Iâve got something to do. Iâll get the bus later.â
After sheâd gone, I waited in the corridor for a minute and then left the school grounds by a side entrance. A few kids were hanging around, but they didnât bother me. Down the road I found a bench to sit on, and waited. I had a clear view of the school. I needed to check something. It was crazy. It was impossible. But my heart wouldnât stop hammering.
After twenty minutes the stooped figure of Mr Atkins appeared at the main entrance. He walked straight past the staff car park and left the grounds by a side gate. This was a bonus. I had expected him to get in a car. A rego was all I had hoped for. I waited until he was some way down the road and then followed. If he turned around, heâd spot me. Someone of my size is difficult to miss. Mr Atkins, though, seemed deep in thought. I stayed as close as I could.
It was madness. What happens in the Dream is the product of my brainwaves. It has nothing to do with the outside world, the real world. But the visit to Mrs Atkins had been strange. It wasnât just the way the dog seemed to sense me. It wasnât even that I couldnât fully control Mrs Atkinsâs reactions. I patted my pocket, and I almost hoped I would find that Mrs Atkins wouldnât bear any resemblance to my creation. Mr Atkins probably wouldnât even have a dog. But I couldnât still the rush of excitement in my blood.
Mr Atkins took a totally different route to the one I had followed at lunchtime. I suppose he might have been heading somewhere other than home, but it didnât seem likely to me. After twenty minutes, he turned into the drive of an elevated house in a quiet street. This took me by surprise, but I quickened my steps and was across the street and watching as he went in the front door. I sat down on the grass for a few moments. I was sweating from the walk and my legs felt rubbery. I waited until my heart stopped hammering. Then I started a slow walk back to the bus stop. I needed to think.
Mr Atkins did have a dog. It jumped up at him as he searched for his house keys. It wasnât the dog in the Dream. The real dog was brown, rather than black, but it was about the same size and roughly the same breed. But the main thing that bothered me was Mrs Atkins. She opened the door while Mr Atkins was fumbling with his keys and trying to stop the dog from jumping.
I saw her for only a few moments. But she was the twin of the person in the Dream. Her hair was the same, her tired, shuffling walk the same. Only the clothes were different. Maybe the dog and Mrs Atkins could have been dismissed as coincidence. Even the glimpse I caught of her eyes as she leaned to kiss her husband on the cheek could have been argued away. Even though Iâm good with eyes and would have sworn they were the same.
The clinching thing was the bulge in the pocket of my shirt. A lump of sugar. How did it get there? I popped it into my mouth and felt the sweetness crumble on my tongue. It tasted like proof.
When I got home, Dad was still at work. Mary opened the door and gave me a big hug.
âHey, you,â she said. âGuess what? Youâve had a visitor. Someone from school.â
My mind was still swimming with the possibilities of sugar. Even so, my heart skipped a beat.
âLeah?â I said. âShort girl, with hair that curls under her chin?â
Mary laughed.
âIn your dreams, mate,â she said. âNo, this was a boy. Said his name was Martin. Youâve only missed him by ten minutes.â
4 .
âHe was charming, that Martin. Said he was a friend of
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