Dreamrider (14 page)

‘No, Sir.'

‘Excellent. Excellent. In which case, I can provide you with a ticket. A bargain basement ten dollars to you. Actually,' he said lowering his voice, ‘it's ten dollars for everyone, but I'm trying to raise my profile as a good guy by giving my Home Group the impression I'm offering discounts.'

I handed him ten dollars and asked for a receipt. I'd taken the note from the pot this morning. Dad didn't know, but at least the receipt would show I hadn't spent it on anything else. Then I caught myself. I almost smiled. I didn't need to worry about receipts anymore. But old habits die hard, I guess. Mr Atkins seemed surprised, but he fumbled in his desk drawer and pulled out a battered receipt book. He scribbled on a sheet and handed it to me.

‘Not a tax rort, is it, Michael?'

‘Sir?'

‘Never mind. Well, it's been good doing business with you. Have a splendid day, my friend.'

‘Sir? Haven't you forgotten something, Sir?' Mr Atkins looked blank. ‘The ticket, Sir.'

‘Ah, the ticket. Well, I think you'll find it's in your pocket.'

It was too. I hadn't seen a thing. He winked at me.

‘Small magic, my boy.'

The door to the classroom opened and Leah came in. She was flushed and breathless, as if she'd been running. She stopped when she saw me. I smiled.

You and me, I said to myself. You and me are going to rule the world.

2
.

We didn't get a chance to talk until recess. We had separate classes, though I couldn't tell you what they were. I wrote down what I was supposed to write down, but my mind was elsewhere. Nobody said anything to me and that was good.

When the bell rang I wandered over to my tree. The world was different, the sky a crisp blue I'd never seen before. Clouds were more textured, the wind fresher. My skin tingled. Happiness coursed through me like a drug. When Leah came and sat beside me, taking my hand in hers, it seemed to make the world perfect.

‘How did you do it, Michael?' she said. ‘I woke up at about six o'clock and Scamp was there, on the pillow next to me. Looking at me. With those big brown eyes. It was . . . I felt . . . Oh, hell. I can't describe it. How did you do it?'

‘I don't know,' I replied. I didn't either. The twist to bring two worlds together. That's what she meant. Perhaps I didn't have to think about it at all. Just being able to ride the Dream was enough. Or maybe I did something, but didn't know how I'd done it. ‘But I suppose it doesn't really matter, does it? I can do it. That's the important thing.'

‘Oh, Michael. Think about it. The possibilities. You've cured Mrs Atkins, Scamp can see. There's no limit to the good you can do in the world. Diseases will be a thing of the past. No more pain, no suffering, no kids dying of starvation. You could end wars. Think of that.'

‘Do it in my sleep, Leah.' I loved her intensity. Her eyes were glowing with passion. ‘Though it might take me time to get around the whole world. I mean, I can only put in an average eight hours a night. Let's hope I don't get insomnia.' I was just kidding around, but she suddenly gripped my hand.

‘But I thought you'd made it so the Dream and the real world were one thing. Like that paper strip you told me about.'

‘The Möbius strip was just an image, Leah. I don't know how this works. But I do know that when I'm not asleep, I'm just fat old Michael Terny. Not a superman. I can't do anything here. But who knows? Maybe one day. For the time being, I'll settle for the Dream.'

For a while, neither of us said anything. I could tell she was fantasising about curing cancer patients and AIDS sufferers, about me moving unseen through hospital wards, removing, little by little, the pain from the world. I thought about that as well. But I also considered other things. I could cure pain and I could create it. I wondered how difficult it would be to track a person down. Someone from the past, whose name I didn't know, whose appearance and whereabouts were a mystery. Someone who had got drunk nearly ten years ago and decided it was a good idea to get in a car.

‘Your cheek is red. Is that a bruise?' Leah touched it gently.

I laughed. ‘I walked into your bedroom door. Seems like Scamp wasn't the only one to keep a reminder of what happened last night.'

A shadow fell across the grass. I'd forgotten Martin Leechy and the appointment. He looked down at us, a small smile on his lips. I stared back. I had the courage now. Olive skin, high cheekbones. Teeth white and even, dark hair gelled. Expensive clothes. If I could have invented someone completely the opposite to me in every way, it would have been Martin.

‘Forgot our little arrangement, huh, Michael?' he said.

‘I did, actually, Martin,' I replied. ‘Sorry about that. Mind like a sieve.'

I saw the tiny flash of irritation again. I nearly smiled.

‘However,' I continued, ‘I can spare you a few minutes now, if that's convenient.'

Martin glanced at Leah.

‘In private?' he said.

I noticed it was a request and not a statement. I turned to Leah.

‘Would you excuse us?' I said.

Leah didn't want to leave. Her face was creased with worry.

‘I'll catch up in English,' I continued. ‘Save me a seat. It's okay. Seriously. Martin and I just need to discuss a few matters.'

‘Don't worry, Leah,' said Martin. ‘You'll get your boyfriend back in one piece. I only want to chat to him.'

Leah stood and brushed grass from her skirt. She threw Martin a look full of hatred. I was surprised he didn't feel it like a fist. She walked across the oval towards the canteen while Martin and I watched. Only when the crowd of students swallowed her up did Martin sit down.

‘She's really keen on you, mate,' he said.

‘I know,' I said. I couldn't believe how good it was to say that, to feel it.

‘You've changed,' said Martin. ‘Something about you.'

‘I know,' I said again. ‘I have changed. I've lost my fear. And what's more, I don't believe it's coming back.'

Martin cracked his knuckles.

‘That's good,' he said. ‘That's progress. Fear cripples you. It stops you doing what you feel like, when you feel like it. Nearly everyone suffers from it. They call it different things – morality, conscience, ethics. Labels to make themselves feel good about their fear – but that's what it comes down to. Scared of taking what you want for no other reason than you want it. To make people suffer just because you can. You know something, Mikey? I think that's the greatest pleasure in the world.'

I locked my fingers around my knees and followed the flight patterns of three kites that were circling something on the oval. Maybe it was a lizard. Suddenly, one of the kites swooped down, brushing the grass. It gripped something small in its talons. Death was all around.

‘Has it ever occurred to you that you're a psychopath, Martin?' I said.

He laughed.

‘Many times, mate,' he said. ‘But even psychopaths need fun. Especially psychopaths, actually. And anyway, Michael, stop kidding yourself. That's what I was talking about before. You want to feel good about yourself, so you attach labels to me. But tell me this. And be honest. Isn't there someone out there that you'd like to kill? Someone who's made you suffer, someone who hurt a person you cared about? Of course there is. And if you could get them at your mercy, you wouldn't be satisfied with justice. You'd want to taste their pain. You'd want to bathe in their suffering. And you'd enjoy it. I know you better than you know yourself. Remember that, Michael.'

‘I'm not scared of you anymore, Martin.'

He put his arm around my shoulder. My flesh shrank from his touch, but I didn't move. I didn't want him to misinterpret it as fear. He moved his mouth close to my left ear.

‘I don't want you to be scared of me, Mikey. You don't understand. Not yet. But you're getting closer. All I want is for you to stop being scared of yourself. It's that simple. And when you truly know yourself, when all the fear has gone, then I'll help you. I'm no different to Leah in that regard. We just have different things to offer.'

I stood up. I was tired of this. I brushed grass from my legs.

‘You talk in riddles, Martin. And I'm tired of it. I don't want to waste my time with it. You rub chocolate cake in my face, and punch me, and now you try to confuse me by babbling on about not fearing myself. I know you are trying to terrify me physically and emotionally. Drive me mad. Well, I'm not playing the game anymore. Play with yourself, Martin. It's about all you're good for.'

I walked across the oval towards the canteen. I didn't look back. I didn't respond when he called after me.

‘I just want to help you, Michael. You'll see. Soon you'll see how much you need me. At the Social, Michael. I'll show you at the Social.'

I kept on walking. The kites circled overhead.

3
.

Y do u want 2 go?

Leah's handwriting was large and rounded. Almost childish. It was a lot like my own and I felt pleased. Another thing we had in common. She pushed my exercise book back across the desk. I kept one eye on the teacher, but she was reading to us from a novel and hardly looked up from the page. I wrote slowly and lightly, so the sound of the pencil wouldn't draw attention.

Mr A. He seems sad + worried.

Wot r u thinking?

I want 2 check.

Wagging?

Y not?

I h8 waggers.

U don't have 2 come.

Try stopping me.

It was really easy to get out of school without anyone seeing us. When the bell went, Leah and I mingled with the swarming students. No one paid attention as we slipped into the yard and out the gate. I felt guilty. It was stupid, but I'd never felt comfortable breaking rules. I supposed I'd have to get used to it. After all, in the Dream I made my own rules.

As I crossed the road I glanced back at the school. Its concrete face and blank, staring windows didn't seem to care one way or another.

I had some difficulty finding the house. I wasn't even sure it was the right place until I saw the dog lying in the driveway. Now it came down to it, I felt nervous again and Leah had to open the gate and ring the doorbell. I stayed behind her, as if hiding.

This time, the footsteps approaching were stronger. Feet hit the floor, rather than scuffing over it. I started to hope again. Mrs Atkins opened the door and cocked her head to one side as she looked at Leah. Her smile was polite.

‘Yes?' she said. ‘Can I help you?'

Leah didn't answer. She simply stepped to one side. Mrs Atkins's smile slipped. I saw a struggle in her face, doubts that left marks in her eyes. I took a pace forward.

‘Mrs Atkins,' I said. ‘My name is Michael. I think we've met before.'

She looked me up and down. Then her smile returned.

‘Yes. Yes, I believe we have, Michael. Please come in.'

We had tea and biscuits. We talked.

I hadn't planned this. Not really. But Mr Atkins had been worrying me since Home Group. His sad eyes, the sense of pain and concern. None of that should have been there. Not if I had cured Mrs Atkins, like I'd cured Scamp. I had to know. One way or another I had to know. When I'd explained this to Leah on our walk she'd seen the sense of it straightaway. But it wasn't as simple as that. It was only when we'd left the school that I'd had the time to think about it properly. How could I ask someone, a total stranger, if their cancer has miraculously disappeared? A cancer I shouldn't have any idea existed in the first place. What could I say? ‘I think I came to you in a dream, Mrs Atkins, and took away your tumour. I can do stuff like that. Feel like giving me an update?'

When I'd told Leah of my concerns, she'd snorted.

‘Worried about making a fool of yourself, Michael? Think that's important? Let's just go. See what happens.'

As it turned out, I didn't even have to bring the subject up. Mrs Atkins did. We sat in the same room as before. Everything was identical, apart from Leah sitting opposite me, a cup of tea in one hand and a plate of biscuits balanced on her knee. The bowl of sugar cubes was on the table between us. Mrs Atkins talked about the weather and how nice it was to have visitors. I looked for signs in her face and the way she sat in her chair. Signs of wholeness, the absence of darkness behind the skull. But it's all different when you're not in the Dream. I wasn't sure. I didn't say much. Finally, Mrs Atkins put her cup down on the table and clasped her hands in her lap. I knew what was coming was important.

‘I have to thank you, Michael. Putting it into words would sound ridiculous. But I think you have come here today in search of an answer. Well, I believe the answer is “yes”. I believe. I won't know for sure until I go to see my consultant. Get some tests. But I feel . . . I feel, strongly, that what was wrong with me is no longer wrong. And that you had something to do with it. Everything to do with it. Does that make sense?'

I nodded. Suddenly I had an urge to get out of there. I put my half empty cup down on the table and stood.

‘We'd better go, Mrs Atkins,' I said.

‘Wait a moment, Michael,' said Leah. ‘I want to know more.' She turned to Mrs Atkins. ‘How do you know this?'

I sat down again.

Mrs Atkins was silent for a long while. I wasn't even sure she was going to answer. But then she gave a slight smile.

‘I'm so sorry,' she said. ‘I was thinking about my husband. He . . . he's a magician, you know. Tricks. Coins out of ears, rabbits out of hats. He loves it. He loves the idea of the impossible. It's what he said drew him into teaching. But he's also got another side. Rational. Everything can be explained. He knows I'm going to die. He's known for months. It makes sense to him. Even though it's also destroying him.' She laughed. ‘And now I can't say anything. Not until I go through the whole thing with scans and doctors' reports. Until I have something on a medical report that says it scientifically. A miracle. Except they'll call it remission. But it's the same thing. It just sounds more respectable.' Mrs Atkins picked up her cup again. ‘Isn't that strange? I can't tell him what I know. You see, my dear, I'd have to tell him what I'm telling you now. That, in a dream, a boy touched my head and took away the cancer that was killing me. But I can't tell him. Not yet.' Her voice broke and I thought she was going to cry.