A New Kind of Dreaming

by Anthony Eaton

  Taking a deep breath Jamie dropped into the bottom of the boat. Luckily, it was filled with sand, which cushioned his fall slightly. Rolling a little, he came up against the side of the hull where he eased himself slowly, silently, into a sitting position, his back hard up against the timbers.

  He was trapped in a tiny space only a couple of metres wide. The walls angled inwards to where they met in the deep V of the keel buried beneath his feet. Dim light filtered down from above, the brightest spot being under the hole through which Jamie had just dropped. He inched away from the pool of light, seeking protection in the deep shadows along the sides.

  Above him, the footsteps creaked their way forward, moving inevitably towards the hole in the deck. Towards his only escape route. The air was hot and dry and he’d stirred up a lot of dust. Jamie felt the beginnings of a sneeze start to tickle at the back of his throat. He grabbed his nose and held his breath, until, with agonising slowness, the sensation subsided.

  From nowhere he heard the voice. The girl’s voice. It floated unbidden into his mind, her soft even tones ringing in his ears. Closing his eyes, Jamie was somewhere else. Gunshots, screaming, laughter and the voice, always there, soft and scared, speaking strange words. Before he was able to work out what was happening, without any warning he sneezed.

  In the stillness the sound rang like an explosion. The footsteps stopped dead, almost directly above his head.

  Silence. Deadly, total silence. In the dusty darkness Jamie held his breath. A board creaked as the person above shifted their weight.

  Another slow groan. Then a crack – a gunshot. No, not a gunshot, but timber. Dry, brittle timber splintering and cracking and giving way. A figure crashed through the deck and thudded heavily onto the sand, right by Jamie’s feet.

  Jamie dived for the shape in the darkness, his hand already balling into a fist. He knew from years of fighting in playgrounds and on the streets that he had to catch whoever it was by surprise. His arm swung, building momentum until it buried itself deep in the belly of his opponent. The air exploded from the man in a hot burst, right by Jamie’s ear. As the man tried without success to straighten up, Jamie realised how big his opponent was. Taking a step backwards he readied himself to launch his next punch, giving himself room to push whatever slight advantage his surprise attack had given him. Before he could throw his fist through the darkness, however, the figure spoke.

  ‘Jamie! Hang on.’

  The surprise of hearing his name stopped Jamie’s arm mid-swing. He strained his eyes, trying to identify the person doubled over at his feet. Whoever it was took a minute or two to stand upright. A beam of light fell across his features.

  ‘Cameron?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Although still winded, the other boy managed a lopsided grin. ‘Bloody hell, mate, I thought you were going to kill me.’

  ‘I was. You scared the shit out of me.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Don’t apologise. I shouldn’t have hit you. You all right?’

  ‘I’ll live.’

  They looked at each other, both shaking and covered in dirt and sand. Jamie peered through the gloom.

  ‘Mate, I can’t see too well down here but you look like you’ve just gone ten rounds with a heavyweight champion.’

  ‘Don’t flatter yourself. Anyway, wait till you get to a mirror.’

  Cameron started to laugh. At first Jamie looked at him as though he’d gone mad, but it was infectious and Jamie felt the corners of his mouth start to twitch. The two of them collapsed on the sand in the bottom of the boat, tears running down their cheeks. It took two or three minutes of solid laughter before they were able to compose themselves again.

  ‘Man, that felt great.’

  ‘Yeah. Does you good, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Haven’t had a laugh like that in a while.’

  ‘Well, you haven’t had a lot to laugh about, have you?’

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘With everyone being warned off you and all that.’

  The last traces of mirth died. Jamie looked at Cameron. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘By Butcher . . .’ Cameron’s voice trailed off. ‘You haven’t heard about it?’

  ‘I heard there were a few bullshit stories about me floatin’ around the place. What’s this about being warned off?’

  The large boy looked uncomfortable.

  ‘A couple of days after you arrived in town, Butcher came round to the school one afternoon. It must have been a day or two before you started coming to classes. He took the seniors aside, me and the two girls, and told us to steer clear of you. Said you were trouble and that it was up to us to make sure that the word got out among the kids to give you a wide berth.’

  ‘He tell you why I was sent up here?’

  ‘Told us you stole cars and robbed a couple of liquor stores.’

  ‘That’s bullshit.’

  ‘Is it?’

  ‘Course it is. They don’t put you in isolated care for armed robbery. I oughta know.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘’Cause my brother . . .’ Jamie stopped, aware all of a sudden that he barely knew this guy.

  ‘Your brother . . .’ Cameron prompted.

  Jamie hesitated.

  ‘This is between you and me, right?’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘What I’m about to tell you. Don’t spread it around, okay? There’s enough rubbish about me already goin’ around this town. No point adding the truth to it, is there?’

  ‘Yeah, sure. Okay.’

  Still Jamie hesitated, reluctant to reveal his background. He couldn’t see any way out of it, though.

  ‘Eddie, my brother, he’s banged up at the moment. For robbery.’

  Cameron went very quiet.

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Nah, it’s all right. Not your fault. Not like scaring the hell out of me back then.’

  The mood lightened again. They both leaned against the sides of the boat, relaxing.

  ‘What about your folks?’

  ‘My mum’s dead. Died when I was a little tacker.’

  ‘And your dad?’

  Jamie shrugged. ‘Who knows? He shot through a couple of years after Mum died. We hear from him every now and again, but it’s mostly just me and Eddie.’ A thought occurred to him. ‘What are you doing out here anyway?’

  Even in the dark, it was obvious that Cameron looked embarrased.

  ‘I saw you leaving town. You walked right past our place and I noticed you were headed back towards the beach. I figured you might be heading here again, so I decided to follow you.’

  ‘Why?’

  A slight hesitation.

  ‘No reason really. It’s just that after the other night and everything I thought . . .’

  He stopped.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I thought you mighta been doing drugs, or drinking out here or something. I was curious.’

  Jamie looked away. The knot in his stomach had almost vanished during the last few minutes, but now it returned, tighter than ever.

  ‘I don’t do that sort of stuff, okay?’

  ‘Yeah. Sorry. I realise that now, it was just that after what Butcher told us . . .’

  Jamie grabbed his arm, tightly. He looked straight at Cameron. Even through the gloom the other boy could see the burning deep inside Jamie’s eyes.

  ‘Don’t judge me by what that arsehole says. He doesn’t know anything about me, and neither do you.’

  Another long silence. The tension hung between them, almost a tangible force in the close atmosphere. In the end it was Cameron who diffused the situation.

  ‘I’m sorry. Really.’

  Jamie let go and turned away. ‘Whatever.’

  Cameron reached ou
t, resting his hand lightly on the other boy’s shoulder. Jamie was tense, like a coiled spring ready to unwind.

  ‘You okay?’

  ‘Yeah. Just a bit strung out. That’s all. This place gets to me.’

  ‘I know what you mean. You get used to it, though.’

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘The uneasiness – the feeling. Everyone here experiences it. All the kids anyway. After you’ve been here a while you get a bit more used to it. It becomes part of the background.’

  Jamie stared.

  ‘What’re you talkin’ about?’

  ‘You know, Port Barren. That weird feeling you get here, like you’re all screwed up inside the whole time. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed it? Everyone does, especially when they’re new.’

  Jamie’s mind raced.

  ‘You mean it’s not just me?’

  ‘No way. The first year or so after my old man moved us up here I could barely concentrate on anything. That’s why I took up running. Helps me clear my mind, getting away from the town. I wouldn’t normally stop out here, though.’

  ‘Out here?’

  ‘At the boat.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Dunno really, it’s just . . .’ he stopped.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You won’t laugh?’

  ‘’Bout what?’

  Cameron stayed silent. It seemed as though this time it was him weighing up what he knew about Jamie, making a decision about him.

  ‘It’s probably just a kid’s story.’ Behind his words, a note of hesitation revealed itself.

  ‘What is?’

  ‘’Bout this boat.’

  ‘What about it?’

  Cameron didn’t get a chance to answer.

  ‘Listen—’

  In the gloomy silence Jamie heard it – the sound of an engine approaching along the beach. Coming towards the boat.

  eleven

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Who is it, more likely.’

  The two boys stared at each other. Cameron shook his head, clearly puzzled.

  ‘No one ever comes out this way. There’s nothing here apart from this wreck.’

  ‘Give us a leg up to the top deck. We’ll find a hole and take a look out, eh?’

  Hooking his fingers together into a stirrup, Cameron hoisted Jamie through the hole in the roof, then hauled himself up as well. Jamie crawled across to the other side of the hull and found a suitable peephole.

  ‘Oh, shit!’

  ‘What?’ Cameron dropped down beside him.

  ‘Butcher!’

  The outline of the approaching police truck was clear. The lights on the roof glinted in the midday sun, even through the shimmering haze off the sand. About four or five hundred metres away it slowed down.

  ‘What do you think he’s doin’ out here?’

  Cameron shrugged. ‘No idea.’

  ‘We’d better get out.’

  ‘And go where? As soon as we hit the beach he’ll see us. The tree line’s too far away to get to. I could probably talk my way out of it, find an excuse for being here, you know, but you . . .’

  He didn’t need to finish. Lorraine’s words rang in Jamie’s mind: ‘Right now, he’d probably try to get you put into remand for littering.’ Given that he’d been let out of school in order to go home and sleep, Jamie guessed that truancy would serve Butcher’s purpose equally as well.

  ‘What do we do then?’ demanded Jamie.

  ‘Let’s sit tight.’

  ‘What!’

  ‘Think about it. Butcher must weigh at least a hundred and twenty kilos. No way is he going to try getting on board. This thing’d fall apart under him. As I see it, our best option is to stay put and see what happens.’

  Jamie wasn’t happy, but they were out of alternatives. He turned his attention back to the peephole.

  The four-wheel drive stopped only a few metres from where they were crouching. Butcher and Robb climbed out. Reaching back into the cab, the sergeant pulled his nightstick from behind the driver’s seat.

  ‘I don’t like the look of this.’ Jamie’s voice was little more than a hoarse whisper, barely louder than the volume of his breathing.

  ‘What?’ asked Cameron. ‘Give us a look.’

  Jamie slid aside and Cameron dropped his eye to the hole. For a few seconds he peered intently, then abruptly pulled away. Jamie bent his head towards the hole again, but Cameron restrained him, putting his finger to his lips and shaking his head.

  Two sets of footsteps came directly towards where they were hiding and stopped almost beside them. Even through the timber the conversation rang loud and clear.

  ‘Keep your eyes open, Robb.’

  ‘What for, Sarge?’

  ‘Anythin’. Just have a look around.’

  ‘It’d help if you told me exactly what we’re looking for. I still don’t know why I had to come out here anyway. It’s McPherson’s shift.’

  There was the sound of a cigarette lighter scraping into life.

  ‘Put that bloody thing out, you moron!’ Butcher spat the words. ‘I swear, Robb, sometimes I don’t know how you even passed the entrance tests. And as for McPherson, I’m in charge around here, and I’ll decide who does what. If I wanted that drunken bugger out here then I’d bring him, but I don’t, so you’ll have to do.’

  They moved away and their voices became muffled. After a slow circuit of the hull, the two policemen returned to their original position.

  ‘He was here all right. There’s footprints everywhere.’

  ‘Why’s it so important, anyway?’

  Silence. When Butcher spoke again his voice was soft and menacing. It was the same tone he’d used that first afternoon outside Archie’s place.

  ‘Robb, I’ve told you a hundred times, don’t ask questions about things that don’t concern you.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Enough! One of these days you’re gonna stick your nose too far into someone else’s business and get it punched.’

  The threat behind the words was clear. Robb went very quiet. After a couple of minutes Butcher spoke again.

  ‘Get your torch from the truck. Have a look on board.’

  This time the only reply was the sound of the young cop’s footsteps crunching across the beach away from the boat. Jamie turned to Cameron, horrified, but Cameron was already crawling back over to the hole down into the bilges. Following, Jamie noticed the fresh marks in the dust and the jagged splinters of timber poking up at strange angles where Cameron had fallen through earlier. No way would Robb miss the hole, assuming he got inside.

  Cameron was already lowering himself silently onto the sand in the bottom of the wreck. With his extra height, he was just able to reach, and he silently eased himself down into the dark. Jamie hesitated, until the sound of Robb’s footsteps returning propelled him into action.

  Dropping awkwardly, he felt his knee wrench as he hit the sand. He gasped as pain shot up his leg. Cameron scurried across.

  ‘You okay?’ Just the barest of whispers. Jamie nodded, trying to ignore the throbbing from his knee.

  Everything outside had gone quiet. Very quiet. Then Butcher’s voice came clearly through to where they were sprawled.

  ‘Robb, you hear somethin’?’

  ‘What, Sarge?’

  ‘Dunno. Some noise. Sort of a scuffling. From the boat.’

  Silence while the two cops listened again. Jamie and Cameron held their breath.

  ‘I can’t hear anything, Sarge. Perhaps it was the wind?’

  ‘Perhaps.’ Butcher sounded doubtful. ‘Just make sure you have a good look around.’

  Robb’s footsteps crunched around the boat and a couple of seconds later Jami
e and Cameron heard the scrape of his boots as he dragged himself on board.

  It seemed an eternity that the two of them crouched motionless, listening to the cautious creak of footsteps on old timber. Jamie hardly dared to breathe. He wondered what they’d do if Robb came plunging through the deck the same way Cameron had. The constable, however, moved far more cautiously than either of them, testing each board carefully before putting his weight on it.

  It must have been a full five minutes before they heard him call to Butcher, his words muffled by two levels of deck. Butcher’s reply though, from just a couple of metres away, was clearly audible.

  ‘Have you looked below?’

  A brief answer, obviously in the negative.

  ‘Then bloody well get down there and look around. Why do you think I told you to get your torch?’

  Outside, Butcher muttered to himself as Robb’s footsteps moved aft towards the hatch. A few seconds later the boards above their heads began to creak. Through the hole Jamie caught the occasional flash of a torch beam probing the dusty darkness. The cop must have been crawling forward in much the same fashion as Jamie had, because no longer could they make out the thud of each footstep. Now he moved with a slow and deliberate scraping motion. Jamie’s skin prickled.

  The scraping stopped right alongside the hole where Cameron had fallen through, almost directly above their heads. The silence was deafening. Jamie could sense the tension in Cameron’s body. He was sure that the other boy was ready to attack if Robb came any further down. Adrenaline pumped through Jamie’s system, causing his fingertips to tingle and heightening his awareness of everything around him.