The Dream Catcher Diaries

by Alexander Patrick

  ‘Aye, I’ll have another one of those,’ I said holding up my glass. ‘But make it a large one next time; it’ll save your legs.’

  ‘You should eat more,’ said Andrew, as Sonia disappeared. ‘Speaking as your doctor, you’re much too thin.’

  ‘First Sonia and now you.’

  ‘What’s this about a party?’

  ‘The Mackay brothers want to speak to you at my house afterwards.’

  ‘What about?’

  ‘A modest initiation ceremony.’ I held out my arm and pulled back the sleeve to reveal the bandage.

  ‘What’s going on?’

  I smiled. ‘You’ll find out, soon enough.’

  He had gone pale. ‘David ...’

  ‘This is serious.’

  ‘I really don’t need reminding about that, especially from the likes of the Mackay brothers. I’ve been in this from the beginning. My loyalty can never be questioned. I don’t need to be initiated into some ...’

  ‘Yes, you do. I want it, and Matrix requires it.’

  ‘I don’t see ...’

  ‘You’re too important to the organisation. You can’t back down now at the thought of a little pain.’

  ‘Pain? Who said anything about pain?’

  ‘I’m not wearing the bandage as a fashion statement.’

  ‘I thought you would’ve had enough pain, without agreeing to some pointless heathen rite of passage.’

  ‘You don’t know what’s involved, yet.’

  ‘I know the Mackay brothers – and I don’t trust them.’

  ‘Precisely why you need to do as I say. Your lack of trust makes us weak. We can’t afford not to trust; we need to be strong. It’s all we have.’

  ‘Then, God help us.’

  ***********************

  The drums beat out their rhythm, and the bagpipes rose up against their beat. Angus stepped forward and screamed into the microphone – a scream of the beast. The band had begun.

  Everyone took notice. The music started loud and grew louder. The drums began fast and beat faster. The music rapidly took on a frantic pace and everyone in the room rose to their feet, impelled to dance. Everyone, that is, except me. I sat and watched. I could see Angus with a drum slung over one shoulder, picking up the bagpipes to pump out their soul and then grab the microphone to scream his passion. He was like a wild man possessed. He filled the room with his anger, and the drums and bagpipes howled with him. Everyone said it was their best performance yet. Only I knew why. They were playing for Matrix. They were playing for my people.

  After the performance, each of the Mackay brothers walked past my table, each of them held out his hand to me and shook mine. Each of them had arms bandaged from their oath. The whole village witnessed the pledge. The whole village knew that something had changed – and they approved.

  Later on, Andrew came to my house – of course, he did. He held out his arm and didn’t flinch when Angus cut into him. He kept his gaze fixed firmly on me as he did so. Angus cut my arm and I held onto Andrew. He went down on his knees and swore his allegiance.

  The Brotherhood had been born.

  Part Three

  The Matrix Worm

  Chapter 40

  I knew a woman once who believed in law and order – in punishing the criminal and protecting the innocent. She said that prisons were holiday camps and people should be made to work whether they wanted to or not; no one should support scroungers. She wanted to send all the Blacks home and lock up the Muslims. She shouted at people who dropped litter or smoked in public places. She was a very angry woman who saw nothing but injustice and governments who constantly let her down. She had no voice. She was just one person.

  She was wrong. She made all the difference. She and people like her made it happen. She put the bridle on me – and the lock. She made me wear the breaking irons day after day. I suffered pain, humiliation and madness because of a woman who had no voice. She was never there, you understand. She didn’t have to be. She allowed it to happen.

  She considered herself a good woman – kind even. She left crumbs out for the birds and stroked stray cats – but she walked past me. You all did. Look in the mirror; she is there.

  ***********************

  October 2038

  I was watching Sonia’s bottom as she bent down to clean around one of my chairs. It was all I could see of her, so that was not so surprising. What was surprising was that I was thinking how attractive it looked. It seemed exactly the right size and shape. She stood up straight and caught me looking. ‘What are you staring at?’ she asked suspiciously.

  ‘What makes you think I can see anything?’ I said quickly.

  She immediately looked contrite. She put down her cleaner and came across, a look of concern on her face. Now I felt remorse; my eyes were in fact pretty good that day – another reason I had noticed her bottom. ‘Are they very bad today?’ she asked softly.

  ‘They’re fine,’ I said.

  I could see she didn’t believe me. ‘I always look as if I’m staring,’ I said. ‘It’s the yellow colour. It’s always got me into trouble.’

  She sat down next to me. She was holding a cleaning cloth. I could smell it, but not as much as I could smell her; I always could; she had a particular smell – like no one else. It was clean, sweet and slightly wild, like the heather. As far as I was concerned it was the best thing about her. ‘Was it bad for you when you were young?’ she said.

  I shifted uncomfortably. I didn’t like it when people asked me questions about my past. ‘What do you mean?’ I asked.

  ‘Were you teased at school?’

  ‘I didn’t have many friends, if that’s what you mean.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  I narrowed my eyes. ‘I survived,’ I said.

  ‘Why did you pretend to Judith that you couldn’t read or write?’

  ‘Because it’s true.’

  ‘No, it’s not. Here you are sitting in front of your computer with a pile of books. How can you say it’s true?’

  I picked up one of my books and passed it to her. She opened it to a page of dots and bumps. ‘Braille,’ I said in answer to her look of puzzlement.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked.

  ‘Guess.’

  She frowned, ‘Oh, David, it’s not, is it?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Porn.’

  ‘You really think I’m a shit, don’t you?’

  She blushed.

  ‘Bleak House,’ I said, sounding grumpy and misunderstood, ‘... Dickens.’

  ‘I know it’s Dickens. Why Dickens?’

  ‘Why not?’ I didn’t feel like talking any more. She had touched a raw nerve. Dickens had been my father’s favourite. It had apparently been a great disappointment to my grandmother that her Scottish son should chose an English author as his favourite. My father believed that literature transcended petty national borders. Dickens spoke to him and he spoke to me.

  She put the book back, frowning as she did so. ‘David,’ she said tentatively. I was immediately nervous. I am very sensitive to tone of voice.

  She coughed nervously. ‘We need to talk,’ she said. I waited. ‘You know I’m a joint trustee in looking after Judith’s money?’

  I did but I had forgotten. ‘My money,’ I corrected her.

  ‘You’ve been spending quite a lot.’

  I folded my arms and frowned. ‘Have I?’

  ‘I’ve already spoken to Andrew,’ she carried on. ‘I’ve told him my concerns.’

  ‘Which are?’

  ‘David, you’ve spent nearly all of the compensation money!’

  The compensation money had come from the army as a result of the accident that had killed Judith’s son. I knew most of it had gone, buying the safe house had seen to that; maintaining it wasn’t cheap, either, despite every effort being made to make the small community self-sufficient. Saving people and funding a revolution was proving expensive. ‘And you’re mixing with all the wrong people.�
�

  She meant the Mackay brothers. ‘I don’t know what you mean?’ I said.

  ‘I know these people,’ she said. ‘I went to school with them; I remember Hamish. They’re a bad lot. After what they did to you, I can’t understand how...’

  ‘I thought we were supposed to forgive people?’

  ‘Don’t make fun of me.’ She continued to glare at me. ‘I can’t let you do it, David.’

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘Spend all of Judith’s money.’

  ‘It’s my money, Sonia and I’ll spend it how I damned well like.’

  ‘Well, that’s where you’re wrong! I’ve spoken to Andrew and I’ve told him I’ll stop any future payments.’

  ‘What?’

  She took a deep breath. ‘Fraser and I have discussed ...’

  The temperature in the room dropped several degrees. ‘You’ve been discussing my affairs with that man?’

  ‘My fiancé, yes, and he agrees with me that it’s my Christian duty to ensure that the money is spent in a way that Judith would have approved of.’

  I wasn’t listening. I was furious. ‘You’ve a bloody nerve!’

  ‘Actually, I have the right to decide how much and when you’ll be paid any of Judith’s money. Fraser and I have decided on a fixed amount – which is more than generous in the circumstances. It’ll ensure you have everything you need, without bleeding away at the sum ...’

  ‘You’ve no right!’ I shouted.

  She stopped at the fury in my voice and eyes. Deep-down, she really was afraid of me. ‘Don’t you dare raise your voice to me,’ she said.

  ‘You can’t take the money away from me!’ I yelled.

  ‘No, you’re right, but I can stop you spending any more of it on whores.’

  ‘You self-righteous, sanctimonious bitch!’

  She smiled. ‘You can say what you like but I have the right – even Andrew had to admit it, in the end.’

  ‘I take it he didn’t agree with you?’

  ‘No, but he can’t stop me. David, I just don’t understand how you’ve managed to spend so much money.’

  I glared at her. ‘Oh, didn’t you know? Whores always charge freaks more.’ I was too tired to be angry any more; instead, when she had gone, I sat and sank into my world.

  **********************

  I lay in the corner of a bend in the stairwell. Stairs rose up on my left and down on my right. I was crumpled in the corner – naked, except for an old blanket covering me, a present from Amos no doubt. I had fallen down two flights of stairs before coming to a halt against the wall of this corner.

  Vaguely, I can remember noticing how strange my leg looked. It didn’t appear to belong to me at all, but was twisted to one side at an awkward angle. I decided to move. It was time to escape but, as I tried to rise from my squalor, I immediately crumpled back down again in agony. I gasped as my leg twisted more and bent away from me in a way that was unnatural. It refused to take any weight and sent shots of pain through my hip and down my side.

  Reality started to seep through. It was difficult to make the right connections. Amos had injected me with a heavy cocktail just before Paula had arrived. Paula had his own special requirements and it always left me confused and incapable, even at the best of times. Now I was struggling to understand where I was and why I was here, out in the icy cold. How did I get here? How could I be sure that what I was experiencing was real anyway?

  I stared around me and then realised that I could see. I had forgotten that. I could see! Except, that nothing made any sense, and my world kept moving around and drifting in and out of focus. Whether it was the fall or the drugs or both, I’m not sure, but I was completely disorientated and bewildered.

  The morning crept on and still I lay there abandoned and alone. People were starting to move about. Women struggled past me, hauling shopping, children and babies in prams. No one really looked at the body lying amongst the rubbish and filth. Perhaps they thought I was a drunk; perhaps they just didn’t care.

  I lay there staring at my new world, my new prison. It was not particularly pretty. It was made of concrete. It was covered in graffiti and excrement. It smelt; someone had regularly used my corner as a toilet and as a rubbish tip. The smell of human waste was overwhelming and peeping through all this concrete were thin slivers of iron grey: the sky. The sun was thin and milky; I guessed it must be about – I couldn’t see it, but it was daylight so it was there somewhere.

  I was alive – first surprise – I could see again – second surprise – and I had not been taken back to my room. Why not? Then, I remembered; I had inflicted damage on my captors and – the memories came sweeping back – on Paula!

  I would be punished; it would be hell, over and above any hell I had yet experienced.

  No, I was not going to be punished; I was going to die. It would not be the sweet release of flying through the air to the ground below; it would be lingering agony beyond even my experience – Paula and Whitey would make sure of that.

  I tried to move again, but I couldn’t. It was agony simply to breathe; to move was impossible. That was why they had left me: they knew I had crippled myself; they knew I was going nowhere; they knew that all I could do now was wait. I heard footsteps and I closed my eyes. I felt someone kick me. I opened my eyes and looked confused. I was hauled to my feet and flung over someone’s shoulder. Someone else grabbed my legs. I was carried upstairs; now it would begin.

  **********************

  Andrew was very apologetic. He had intended to warn me, but the birth of twins had stopped him from doing so. Once Sonia had made the decision, she had been quick to implement it.

  ‘I need the money,’ I said. ‘People’s lives depend on it.’

  ‘Why not tell her how you spend the money?’

  I laughed. ‘Yeh, sure!’

  ‘I’m serious. Try treating her like a rational human being, for once.’

  ‘That’s the strangest idea.’

  He sighed. ‘Oh, David, for a man who can be so insightful ...’

  ‘I need to earn more money,’ I said.

  He immediately looked wary. ‘No, David, it’s not worth it.’

  ‘Did you really think I meant - sell my body?’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘I would if someone would buy it,’ I added wickedly.

  ‘This isn’t something to joke about.’

  ‘Actually, I meant writing.’

  ‘You’re already doing that; it doesn’t earn that much, I’m afraid.’

  ‘The thing is,’ I said, ‘Sonia’s done me a favour. The fact that she’s done this isn’t that important. Judith’s money was never going to last. I want to open more safe houses across the country and we need more arms. It’s too much. We were never going to have enough money. At least she’s made me think.’

  ‘I still don’t see how writing can ...’

  ‘Will you act as my agent? I’ll pass my manuscripts to you and you can find someone to publish me.’

  ‘Publish?’

  I nodded. ‘Yes, people still like children’s books in paper form.’

  ***********************

  And that is how the Marvellous Adventures of Tristan came to be written. The first book was written that winter, under the pen name Angus Robert, and was called Tristan Seeks the Truth. It was an easy book to write. I had already written it in my head years ago when I was a child. Tristan was my alter ego and in every way the exact opposite of Nelson Fuller, the child hero who fought the arch villain Matrix. He went on lots of fantastical adventures; he was a child with attitude and often won his battles by sheer nerve and outright cheating. I amused my brother for hours with his adventures and placed the weedy little chap in his head as firmly as any real person.

  I was convinced that other children would love Tristan as much as I and my brother had done – and I was right. One of life’s ironies is that the bloody revolution that brought down the establishment was partly funded by a series of childre
n’s books.

  Chapter 41

  Christmas 2038

  Caitlin came to stay over the Christmas holidays. I hadn’t seen her since the summer. She seemed to have grown in that time. She ran up and flung her arms around me almost knocking me over; sometimes she forgot how unstable I was on my crutches. ‘Why haven’t you come to visit me?’ she cried. She might as well have said, ‘where were you in the last nine years?’ But she was too generous for that.

  ‘Too busy.’

  ‘Oh, Daddy, Sister Maria wants to meet you.’ I bet she did. ‘They all want to; I talk about you a lot.’

  ‘Do you really know a nun called Sister Maria?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘What does she look like?’

  ‘Hello, David.’ Tanya walked in carrying some bags. She gave me an affectionate pinch. It was as much as she ever did.

  Caitlin was jumping up and down. ‘Is it really your birthday soon?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How old will you be?’

  ‘Very old.’

  She grinned at me. I was pleased to see her; she was the only sunshine in my world. ‘Have you brought me a present?’ I asked.

  ‘No, silly!’ She jumped up and down again.

  ‘Caitlin, go and fetch the rest of the bags,’ ordered Tanya. She turned to me. ‘I’m not staying.’

  ‘Mummy has to work,’ shouted Caitlin, as she dashed out.

  I looked at her. ‘Over Christmas?’

  She pulled a face. ‘Special client.’ She rubbed her fingers together. ‘He pays well and I need the money; school fees don’t come cheap.’

  Neither did crack. ‘Perhaps I should ...’ I murmured.

  She laughed. ‘I hear you’re short of cash now.’

  How did she know? ‘I’m finding other ways to raise money,’ I said.

  ‘Why not go back to what you know best?’ she said with a wink.

  I laughed.

  ‘What do you know best?’ asked Caitlin.

  ‘Put your bags in your bedroom and wash your hands,’ said Tanya. Caitlin slunk off. ‘She’s done nothing but talk about coming here for weeks now.’ She looked tired – more so than usual. ‘I hear that bitch has cut off your money,’ she continued.