A New Kind of Dreaming

by Anthony Eaton

  Cameron nodded. The tourists looked at one another and then back at the boys. It was the guy who finally spoke.

  ‘What the hell are you doing way out here? They were going mad back there.’

  ‘It’s a long story.’

  ‘Didn’t you steal a car or something?’ The young woman joined the interrogation. ‘We didn’t see one back at the park entrance.’

  ‘Park?’

  ‘National Park. Don’t you even know where you are?’

  Cameron shook his head. The guy walked across and stood directly in front of them, looking them over, taking in the fierce sunburn, the cracked lips, the puffy eyes and the filthy clothing.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  Cameron made a non-committal gesture. Sort of a shrug. Jamie stayed silent.

  ‘My name’s Robert. This is my girlfriend Susan.’ He nodded towards his companion. ‘Can we offer you guys a drink or anything?’

  ‘You got any food other than dehydrated noodles?’

  ‘Sure. Sit down.’

  He returned to his pack and dug out a couple of bars of chocolate, some potato chips, a tin of smoked mussels and some cracker biscuits.

  ‘It’s not much, I’m afraid, but you’re welcome to it. We weren’t planning on staying at the pool too long. The rest of our food is in the car.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  The boys munched hungrily. A look passed between Robert and Susan, unnoticed by Jamie and Cameron.

  ‘So,’ ventured Robert. ‘It took us half a day to get here. How on earth did you guys manage it?’

  twenty-nine

  The blast of the air-conditioning was a stream of paradise blowing onto Jamie’s face. Cameron was in the back of the four-wheel drive, fast asleep among Robert and Susan’s camping gear and backpacks. Jamie was sprawled across the back seat, his head propped on a couple of pillows Susan had found him. His eyes were closed and he was tired, but sleep refused to come. In the front, Robert was driving and Susan was sitting in the passenger’s seat arguing with him.

  ‘We ought to get them both straight back to Cameron’s parents,’ Robert was saying. ‘They’ll be worried sick.’

  ‘Weren’t you listening to their story? The safest place for these two is the Karratha police station. The parents can be notified from there.’

  ‘They’ll be okay if we take them home. I’m sure Cameron’s parents are capable of dealing with this Butcher character.’

  ‘Robert’ – Jamie didn’t know these people all that well but he guessed from the tone of her voice that Susan was about to win this argument – ‘you can’t just drop these boys off and leave. Not after what they . . .’

  ‘I don’t want to have to deal with the police. There’ll be forms to fill out and questions to answer. We’re already behind schedule and you know as well as I do that if we don’t get this car back to the hire company by the end of the week it’ll cost us extra.’

  ‘I know that, but we’ve got to do the right thing.’

  Robert was about to be overruled. Jamie opened his eyes and spoke quietly.

  ‘Go to Port Barren.’

  ‘What?’ Susan twisted in her seat, surprised. They’d thought he was asleep. Jamie saw Robert’s eyes flick to the rear-vision mirror.

  ‘Head to Port Barren. Robert’s right. Cam’s parents will know what to do. We’d be better off back there than in Karratha.’

  Jamie was not keen to involve the Karratha police. Not yet. Not until he knew Butcher hadn’t any influence with them.

  ‘Jamie, are you sure about this?’ Susan’s concern was reflected in her eyes and her voice. ‘Have you thought it through? This man has tried to kill you once already.’

  ‘Yeah. It’ll be right. I’ll call the cops as soon as we get home. Cameron’s father is a pretty influential guy in the town.’

  ‘Well, if you really think . . .’

  ‘You’d better make your mind up soon,’ Robert interrupted. ‘The Port Barren turn-off’s only about half a kilometre down the road.’

  ‘Yeah, I’m certain. Head back to town.’

  A few seconds later Robert swung the Nissan off onto another dirt track. A faded sign at the intersection, almost unreadable through the dust, pointed the direction. ‘Port Barren – 30 km.’

  ‘Do you want us to wait around for a few minutes?’

  ‘Nah. It’ll be right.’

  ‘Good luck then. Be careful.’

  ‘Yeah, I will.’ Jamie stood by the passenger window. ‘Listen, thanks for everything. You guys saved our lives out there. We were pretty lost.’

  Looking at Robert’s map in the car on the way home, Jamie and Cameron had realised how lucky they’d been. Not only were they still seventy-five kilometres from the nearest highway, but they had been headed in completely the wrong direction. Cameron agreed that he needed to work on his navigation skills.

  ‘That’s okay. Are you sure we can’t do anything else to help?’ Susan was still worried. Jamie shook his head.

  ‘Things’ll be fine. Honest. You guys should hit the road before the cops start asking around.’

  ‘If you say so. Bye then. Take care, won’t you?’ To his surprise, Susan leaned out and kissed him quickly on the cheek.

  ‘See you, mate! Stay out of trouble and look us up when you get to London.’ Robert grinned at him from the driver’s side.

  ‘Yeah, I will. Thanks again.’ Jamie squeezed the address that Susan had pushed into his hand. ‘I’ll write to you.’

  ‘Sure. That’d be great. But remember we won’t be back home for another six months.’

  ‘Cool. Have a good trip.’

  ‘We will . . .’

  Susan’s last words were cut off as Robert pulled the car out, did a three-point turn, and with a final wave, cruised slowly back down the street. Jamie watched the tail lights vanish into the dust and the darkness.

  Port Barren was sleeping. The pub was closed, though a couple of lights still burned in the admin building. The uneasiness in Jamie’s belly had returned as strong as ever, and his thoughts were clouded by tension and weariness.

  From the pool it had been a couple of hours slow hike out of the gorge and up a side valley that the two boys hadn’t even realised was there, another thirty minutes to the car park, and then a three-hour drive back to Port Barren.

  Cameron had been dropped off first. He’d slept all the way back, waking only when Jamie shook him as they passed the charred wreckage of the school. Susan tried to insist on taking him inside to his parents, but he had won out in the end, and they’d sat in the car watching him as far as the front door to make sure he got inside okay.

  Jamie stood in the dust outside Archie’s, feeling the customary heaviness in his shoulders and tightness in his belly. Lights burned inside the house, so Archie must still be up, thought Jamie. He was pleased that he wouldn’t have to wake the old man.

  He walked up the path, across the verandah and through the front door, letting the fly screen slam shut behind him with its customary crash.

  ‘Hello?’ His call hung in the air. From the kitchen came the urgent scrape of a chair and fast footsteps. Lorraine came down the hallway.

  ‘My God! Jamie! What—’ She took a couple of steps towards him, peering through the gloom, as if uncertain whether she could trust her eyes. ‘Where have you come from?’

  ‘Flaherety’s Curse.’ He watched her carefully as he said it. In the dim light of the hallway it was hard to be sure, but he thought he saw some quick emotion – fear or perhaps shock – flit across her face.

  ‘Where?’ Her voice gave her away. She knew. Jamie was sure, she had known all about it.

  ‘You know, Butcher’s dumping ground. Where he sends problems to get rid of them.’

  ‘What on earth are you talking about
?’

  All of a sudden Jamie felt tired. Lorraine’s pretence of innocence wasn’t convincing. He couldn’t be bothered dealing with her.

  ‘Forget it. We’ll sort it out in the morning. When I give this to the Karratha cops.’ He patted the backpack and shoved his way past Lorraine.

  ‘What? Jamie, what have you got in there?’

  ‘An old friend of Butcher’s.’

  He continued down the hallway towards his room on the back verandah. All of a sudden the only thing he wanted was sleep. He paused at the entrance to the kitchen. Archie was sitting in his usual spot at the table, cup of tea in hand. ‘I’m back.’

  A nod.

  ‘I might get some sleep. Can we have a chat in the morning?’

  Another nod, this time accompanied by a curving at the edge of the eyes that might have been a smile.

  ‘Cool.’ He stepped onto the back verandah and closed the door firmly behind him. Lorraine called out to him but Archie’s deep tones interrupted and she went quiet. Then the front door slammed and she was gone.

  Out in the backyard Jamie sluiced himself down with cold water from the tank. His skin tingled, still tender from exposure to the sun and sand. Looking up, he saw the stars peppering the sky and the moon hovering above the northern horizon. They were the same stars, in the same sky, but here in town they were somehow different from out in the desert. Jamie remembered the strange sensation that had swept through him a couple of times while they were out in the sand. The feeling of oneness, of belonging. He tried, but he couldn’t recall it clearly here in town. He was aware only of the uneasiness in his mind and body, a feeling too powerful to allow that delicate sense of peace to envelop him.

  He climbed the stairs, crossed the verandah, fell onto his bed, and slept.

  thirty

  ‘Telephone.’ Someone was shaking him.

  Archie stood beside the bed. ‘You got a call. Your mate.’

  ‘Cameron?’ Archie nodded. ‘What time is it?’ But Archie had already gone.

  Jamie still felt exhausted. Rolling out of bed, he retrieved his wristwatch from the table where he’d left it. (Was it only days ago? It felt like weeks.)

  ‘Six-thirty! Jeez.’ He staggered up the hall in his shorts, wondering why Cameron would be calling so early.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Jamie—’ Cameron sounded worried, out of breath. ‘You’ve got to get out of there. Now.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘Butcher’s just left here. He’s on his way to your place.’

  He was instantly wide awake.

  ‘What?’

  ‘He’s been here for hours. Mum and Dad went nuts after I told them what happened, and Dad hauled him over here in the middle of the night to explain himself. They’ve been at it all night, him and my parents. He’s denying everything, reckons you’ve put me up to lying to cover your own back, and he’s invented some crap story about you torching the school and making me steal our car. He’s on his way round to get you now. He says he’ll make damn sure you tell the truth.’

  ‘Oh, shit!’

  ‘Get out. Take it from me, you don’t want to be there. He’s furious.’

  ‘Where can I go?’

  ‘Dunno. Don’t come here though. My parents don’t believe him, but he’s been making you sound like the devil all the same.’

  A car pulled up. Jamie took a quick look through the front window.

  ‘He’s here.’

  ‘Run.’ The phone went dead in Jamie’s ear.

  Jamie didn’t stop. He ran down the hallway. Archie stood on the back verandah with the backpack in his hand.

  ‘She’s in here, isn’t she?’

  ‘Yeah.’ He hadn’t told Archie anything, and yet he wasn’t surprised that the old man knew about the girl anyway.

  ‘Butcher’s here.’ The usual nod. ‘I reckon I might lie low for a bit.’

  ‘You be careful.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Jamie made for the back door. ‘Jamie!’

  The boy stopped and turned round. The sound of his name coming from the mouth of the old man was a new experience. ‘You better take her too.’ Archie handed him the bag. ‘I’ve got a feeling that she’s the one he’s really lookin’ for.’

  Jamie grabbed the bag and fled into the dawn.

  A few streets away, he slowed down and began to move more cautiously through the town. In the growing daylight he felt exposed and vulnerable. He knew that he was probably still the most wanted man in Port Barren and that everyone in town would be happy to see him thrown in the back of the police truck.

  With no destination in mind, he set about staying out of sight of the road. He ducked through a few backyards – not a difficult task given the lack of fences.

  He arrived at the administration building almost without realising it. Lorraine’s car was parked out the front. A quick glance showed that no one else was around, so he dashed across the street and up the steps onto the front verandah.

  The door was unlocked. He slipped inside. The building was in darkness and blinds had been drawn over most of the windows. But down the far end a light burned in Lorraine’s cubbyhole, and over the dull hum of the air conditioner Jamie could hear her speaking to someone. The words were indistinct, but there was no mistaking the tone.

  Ducking low to the floor, he cautiously made his way between the rows of desks and empty waste-paper baskets, easing himself to within listening distance.

  Lorraine was on the phone. She was crying.

  ‘—no idea where he is.’ She sounded scared. ‘Don’t try to blame me for this. I didn’t ask you to take him off. Just like I didn’t ask you to get rid of the last one.’

  Jamie’s heart thumped.

  ‘No, I’m not going to look for him. I won’t go to Cameron’s place either. It’s your problem this time, Elliot, you can’t drag me into it. I don’t care if you . . .’

  She stopped. Butcher was obviously speaking. Her shoulders, which had been tense and angry, slowly sagged. She looked tired and beaten. Butcher talked for some time.

  ‘You can’t . . .’ Her voice was choked with emotion. ‘It was years ago now. You can’t, Elliot . . .’

  He cut her off again.

  ‘It was a mistake. You can’t, not after all this time . . .’

  A final pause, while Butcher finished whatever he was threatening her with.

  ‘All right. Okay. If I hear anything I’ll let you know. Of course.’

  She dropped the phone back into its cradle. Her head folded onto her arms and her body heaved with sobs.

  Jamie walked to the office door.

  ‘What was that all about?’

  Startled, Lorraine leapt to her feet, knocking her chair backwards onto the floor.

  ‘Jamie! What?’

  Her eyes were red with tears, her hair dishevelled. She looked at Jamie, aghast.

  ‘I know about the last boy. The other one.’

  The words took a few seconds to sink in. ‘How?’

  ‘Butcher. He told me all about it when he thought I was going to die. Is it true?’

  ‘Is what true?’

  ‘Did you love him?’

  Lorraine came around the desk and eased herself into the old wooden school chair where Jamie usually sat.

  ‘It wasn’t like you think. It was different. He . . .’ She hesitated. ‘He needed me.’

  ‘So what happened then? If he was so special, how come you let Butcher carry him off into the desert, eh?’

  Lorraine shook her head.

  ‘I didn’t ask him to. He just did it. Then he made threats – terrible threats. He said he’d arrest me. He’d tell people – newspapers.’

  ‘You didn’t have to listen. You could have reported him.’

&n
bsp; Lorraine lifted her eyes to meet his.

  ‘I wanted to, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. He’d have killed me too.’

  ‘Do you know about the girl?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Yes. He made sure I knew. He had to prove how powerful he was.’

  Her head sank into her hands and she began to cry again. Jamie watched her for a couple of minutes then turned to leave.

  ‘Jamie!’ She was looking up at him again.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Be careful. Please.’

  thirty-one

  Jamie ran. Steadily, he jogged along the beach and tried to fight the rising tide of panic that was swamping him, but his battered and tired body made it difficult. A kilometre or so out of town he could take no more and he slowed to a walk, glancing back nervously for signs of pursuit.

  ‘What would Eddie do? What would Eddie do?’ he asked over and over, wracking his brains to try and come up with an answer.

  He was still trying to come up with a plan when the boat swum into view through the heat haze. He couldn’t go back to Archie’s – Butcher was waiting – and he couldn’t go to Cameron’s. He’d planned to get Archie and Cameron’s folks to call in the cops from Karratha, and to confront Butcher, but everything had gone wrong. Things were much more dangerous now. He should have taken his chances with the Karratha cops. There was nowhere safe to hide in town and the thought of another day out in the desert held no appeal. Now here he was at the old boat, as if compelled.

  At least there’ll be a bit of shade, he thought. He could knick back into town tonight and call Karratha. A decision made, he sped up, anxious to make the shelter of the old wreck as soon as possible.

  Under the stern of the old boat he collapsed. Across the still ocean a thin strip of dark cloud scarred the sky way out to the north. It ran from one side of the horizon to the other, a band of grey stretching as far as he could see. It was something he’d never seen before.

  ‘Weird.’