Dreamrider (10 page)

I kept coming back to a twist in a strip of paper. I killed kids in the Dream. It was easy. And I knew that if I could twist the Dream and the real together, Martin would be sorry he had ever been born. He was number one on my list.

I sat with my legs spread out in front of me, staring at the black and grey flecks in the floor tiles. I didn't hear Leah. One moment I was studying the floor, the next she was sitting next to me, like she had magically appeared.

‘You scared me,' I said.

‘Sorry.' She smiled, her eyes sparkling with flecks of brightness, like the patterns in the tiles. I smiled back.

‘You were deep in thought,' she continued. ‘Feel like telling me about it? Or explaining why you are sitting outside the Maths room, rather than sweating over Mr Williams's trigonometry lesson?'

‘I got thrown out.'

‘Well, duh! I could've worked that out for myself,' she said, but she wasn't being nasty. ‘What for?'

‘For not keeping quiet while Martin Leechy was poking me,' I explained.

Leah frowned and her eyes, this time, sparked with anger.

‘It's so unfair,' she said. ‘The school knows what Martin's like, but they turn a blind eye. He's good at sports, good in lessons. Top of his class most times. Off to university in a couple of years. A credit to Millways. It's easier to pretend his other side doesn't exist. It's only a couple of kids who suffer, after all. And they're not a credit to Millways. It makes me mad.'

Leah chewed her bottom lip. And it was right then, watching her face screwed up in frustration, that I made my decision to tell her. To share everything about myself. I immediately felt better. She cared about me. How could I not care about her? It was time to make contact.

‘I want to tell you something,' I said. ‘Again.'

She laughed. ‘Again?'

‘I've already told you, but you won't remember. I told you in a dream.'

Leah gave a small smile and brushed a wave of dark hair out of her eyes.

‘You're a strange one, Michael,' she said.

‘You don't know the half of it,' I said. ‘But you will. If you want. Could we talk after school?'

‘Come to my place,' she said. ‘My mum's always telling me to bring friends home. She'd be thrilled.'

‘Shouldn't you ask first?'

‘Nah. Don't worry about it.'

We arranged to meet in reception after school. Dad would be on late shift and wouldn't be home until after midnight. I could ring Mary. She had been almost hysterical with excitement when she thought Martin was going to be a friend. I couldn't imagine how she'd react when she heard a girl had invited me to her house.

The bell sounded and the thin noise from the classrooms swelled into a shuffling and scraping of chairs. Leah got to her feet and brushed her skirt down.

‘Well. See ya later, then,' she said. ‘I'm looking forward to hearing everything, Michael. Soooo mysterious!' And then she was gone, swept up in a tide as all the doors along the corridor opened and a surge of students flowed out. I tried to catch a last glimpse, but she was lost. I got to my feet too.

Time to face Mr Williams. I wasn't worried anymore. Not about Martin, not about Mr Williams. A weight had been lifted from me. Leah was taking a friend home.

3
.

At recess I went to the canteen to buy a Mars bar.

Mr Williams had been reasonable. He told me he had been forced to throw me out. Rules were rules. If he'd made an exception in my case, then other students would have thought it unfair. They'd feel they could break the rules as well. Capisce? I did. And I told him that. It was almost funny. He felt bad. Like he was sorry for me and asking forgiveness. He more or less told me he knew someone else in the class had set me up. I didn't say anything. Just apologised, said it wouldn't happen again. He never stopped smiling.

It was a long queue at the canteen. Mr Atkins was on duty, standing about ten metres away. I tried to read his eyes but he was too far away and the sun was behind him. Anyway, I didn't want to stare. The queue shuffled forward. Jamie Archer must have pushed in. He hadn't been behind me a minute before. Yet his voice over my right shoulder was quiet and unmistakable.

‘Feeling good, Wrenbury? Feeling pleased with yourself? Think you're safe cos your gay mate is looking out for you?' I didn't turn round. ‘I'll get you, Wrenbury. Sooner or later, you fat bastard.'

I left. I didn't need a Mars bar that badly.

I had to go past Mr Atkins. I tried to slip by, but people tend to spot someone of my size.

‘Michael, my friend. How are you this fine day?'

I didn't have much choice. I stopped, even though I could feel Jamie's gaze on my back.

‘Good, Mr Atkins. How are you?'

‘In exceptional fettle. Life doesn't get any better than this, Michael. Standing in the full sun, with the humidity in the low nineties, watching out for violence among the socially and ethically challenged. And do you want to know a secret?' He leaned towards me and whispered. ‘They even pay me. Can you believe my good fortune?'

‘I've decided to go to the Social, Mr Atkins.'

‘Have you indeed? That is excellent news, Michael.' He looked like he meant it. ‘I'm sure you'll have a splendid time. See me tomorrow at Home Group and I'll sell you a ticket. Ten dollars. A paltry sum that represents stupendous value in this financially stricken time.'

Jamie had bought a carton of iced coffee. He was leaning up against the canteen wall, watching us. I glanced at my watch. Only five minutes of recess left. It was easier to stay where I was.

‘Mr Atkins?' I said. ‘ You're a magician. I know the thing with the coin is only a trick but . . . well, do you believe in magic? Real magic?' I felt dumb as soon as I asked the question, but Mr Atkins seemed to consider it seriously.

‘Real magic, Michael? Well, I suppose we'd have to be careful with our definitions of “real” and “magic”, would we not? What is your opinion?'

‘I believe that what some people think is impossible can happen.'

Mr Atkins scratched his nose.

‘Indeed. Imagine if someone from two hundred years ago appeared today. Wouldn't the things we take for granted – the motor car, electricity, computers, television, to name a few – appear magical to such a time-traveller? They would be beyond that person's imaginings. So too, if we were to go forward a couple of hundred years. What wonders would we witness, what magic beyond our comprehension? Yet, do you know something, Michael? What interests me most is the small magic all around us and unacknowledged.'

‘Sir?'

‘Oh, the occasional line in a Year 9 imaginative essay, a flash of kindness in an otherwise brutalised heart, a shy boy who decides to go to a Year 10 Social. These are wonders in themselves, don't you think?'

He smiled. I couldn't be sure, but it seemed there was less pain behind his eyes. I wondered if he had gone home last night, found magic in a woman's face and voice and eyes. I couldn't ask, but I needed to know badly.

The bell rang and I went to English. There was no trouble in that class or in SOSE. Small magic, as Mr Atkins might say. At lunch I went straight to the canteen and bought a burger with the lot – egg, bacon, cheese – and a chocolate milkshake. I ignored the snide comments around me. As soon as I was served, I went off to my tree. I sat at its base, facing the oval. I didn't hear or see Martin until he sat down beside me and pulled out a sandwich. We sat together in silence. Eventually, he finished eating, brushed crumbs from his lap and leaned back against the tree, his head close to mine. Throughout the conversation, he didn't look at me. Not once.

‘So, Michael,' he said. ‘I never got an answer. What are you planning to wear to the Social?'

‘I don't know,' I replied.

‘It's tricky, isn't it? I mean, there are so many obvious costumes. Freddy Krueger, Dracula. But we want to be original, don't we? We are not the kind of people to settle for the clichéd. I'm still thinking it through.'

I kept quiet.

Martin brushed a few remaining crumbs from his mouth.

‘She's a lovely woman, your step-mum. We had a good chat. She's hoping we can become good mates. Isn't that sad? I don't suppose you've made too many friends in your previous schools, have you?'

‘No.'

‘No, I didn't think so. But you know what? I feel sure we
are
going to be mates. Seriously. I reckon we've got a bond between us. Come on. Be honest. Don't you think there's some truth in that?'

And the strange thing was, I could almost agree with him. I glanced at Martin from the corner of my eyes. Leah was right. He was good looking and confident, as if aware of the power of his attractiveness and comfortable using it. He was exactly the kind of person I would have liked to be, if you took away his cruelty. Comfortable in his own skin. And there was some similarity between us. No one else might have noticed, but I did. It was as if we were linked in some way. Two sides of Mr Atkins's coin, two sides of the same material, but completely different.

‘You're playing games,' I said. ‘You want to hurt me.'

He rubbed his chin.

‘Well, I can understand you coming to that conclusion, Michael. I mean, I have to be honest here. The only interaction we have had so far has been unpleasant for you. I acknowledge that. But who knows about the future? Maybe we'll be like those people you see in the movies. Once we've had a big dust-up, fought like animals, we'll become friends. You know, a fight might cement our friendship.'

I said nothing and he chuckled.

‘The thought's occurred to you, hasn't it, Michael?' he continued. ‘It's almost like I can read your mind, that we
are
on the same wavelength. Promising for a future friendship, don't you think?'

I said nothing.

‘Well, I think so,' he continued. ‘I'm optimistic about our relationship.'

He got up and brushed off his pants. He moved a few steps away, then turned towards me for the first time.

‘Oh, and by the way, Michael. Don't worry about Jamie Archer. He's a loser. A wannabe tough guy. The scariest thing about him is his lack of originality. You've coped with dropkicks like him, I'm sure. But, if you want, I'll give you a hand. I couldn't bear the idea that, in some way, he'd be detracting attention from me. 'Cos it's all about us, Michael. You know that, don't you? Give it some thought. And just let me know if you need help sorting him out.'

He wandered off to a group of boys playing footy. In a few moments he had disappeared into the ruck of players. I still had most of my burger left. It was cold and there were globs of congealed grease on the edges. I didn't feel hungry anymore. But I ate it anyway.

During the last lesson of the day, I got a message that Miss Palmer wanted to see me straight after school. I worried about missing Leah. We'd arranged to meet at reception immediately after classes. I could only hope the meeting with Miss Palmer wouldn't take too long and that Leah would wait.

When the bell went I rushed down to Miss Palmer's office and knocked on the door. She opened it slightly and gave me a quick smile.

‘Thanks for coming, Michael. I'll be with you in a few moments. Take a seat, please.'

I sat in one of the four chairs against the wall outside her office. I checked my watch. It was ironic. The one day I wanted to get away on time was the one day I couldn't. Normally I'd be fine about sitting around after school. Time's not important if you haven't got a life.

I didn't have to wait long. After a few minutes Miss Palmer opened the door and ushered out a couple of adults. They shook her hand and thanked her for her time. I stood up. Miss Palmer waved them down the corridor and then turned to me.

‘Michael, I'm sorry to keep you waiting. Please come in.'

I stepped into her office and sat in one of the visitors chairs. It was still warm. Miss Palmer sat behind her desk and studied me carefully. My eyes found the poster over her shoulder.

‘Michael. I spoke to Mrs Bowyer earlier today.' She paused as if to check my reaction. I continued staring at the poster. It was advertising a children's help line. I didn't know who Mrs Bowyer was. I figured Miss Palmer would tell me and she did.

‘The Assistant Principal in your last school in Northern Queensland. I rang her.'

I remembered then. A huge woman with a moustache. She was also going bald. You could see a large area of her scalp just above her right ear. The kids gave her heaps about it. She hadn't liked me. She hadn't liked anyone, as far as I could tell. Miss Palmer seemed to expect some reaction, so I shrugged.

‘She said some very interesting things about your time at that school, Michael. About bullying and . . . other things. Do you know what I'm talking about?'

I shrugged. Miss Palmer tapped at her teeth with a pencil. It was a habit she had. I read the poster. Miss Palmer leaned back in her chair.

‘We need to have a chat, Michael. Particularly after what happened in Mr Williams's Maths class today. I've rung your father and arranged a meeting for tomorrow after school. Mr Atkins, as your Home Group teacher, will attend as well. I thought I'd let you know in advance, so you could think things over. I'm concerned about you, Michael. I want to help. But I also think you need to start talking to us about what's bothering you. Would you be able to do that, Michael?'

I didn't want to shrug again, so I nodded. It was easier than saying anything.

‘Good. Well, I'll look forward to seeing you tomorrow then.'

I was glad to get out of there. I almost ran down the corridor to the main reception. Leah saw me and smiled. It lit up her face. We walked out of the school into the bright sunshine. I angled my face to the sky. After the coldness of school I needed to feel the sun's warmth. There were clouds drifting against the blue. I could see a swirl of kites riding the wind, small smudges against the sky.