Chapter Ten

Gordon Dreams

Something was wrong.

Gordon had found a really safe place; a comfortable, warm sleeping place. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. In this place there was no New Edmonville, no Vorla, no dead people and no pain. He would stay here for ever, with those things remaining on the outside where they couldn’t touch him.

But something was trying to drag him out of the safe place; trying to bring him back to the nightmares.

“No…” Gordon tried to raise an arm in protest. It felt as heavy as iron.

But there they were again. Small hands on his arm, on his shirt front, tugging at his trouser legs.

“Leave…alone…just…sleep…”

Something hissed angrily in his face, so close that he could feel the breath on his cheek. He didn’t care. He wanted only to sleep.

Something shook him again, so that his head flopped back and forth in the chair. It didn’t matter. None of this had anything to do with him. There was an angry chittering sound in the room; like agitated birds. Was that it? Were there somehow birds in the room? Gordon tried to slap out again, but couldn’t raise his arm.

Something had that arm; even now he was being pulled from his chair.

“Stop it…”

Gordon was pulled to the floor. He rolled on the carpet, arms flopping. Now both his arms were being held by small, sharp fingers that pinched his flesh. There was pain there, but too remote and distant to have anything to do with him. He tried to raise his head, and saw a curious thing.

He could see Juliet and Jay, sprawled on the sofa. And he was floating away from them on his back, across the carpet. His heels caught in the rug; he began to drag it along with him. Again came the angry chittering sound. Now he was being pulled to the side, as if the carpet were impeding his progress and whoever was dragging him out of the communal room were trying to free his feet. Something off to his right and out of sight gave off a jangling sound. His guitar.

“What…what’s…?”

Gordon bumped against another chair, then was pulled around it. Hanging over the arm of the chair, he could see the head and shoulders of the boy, Robin. Like Jay and Juliet, he was asleep; his pink face scrunched up against the arm of the chair, his curled hair flat against the sweat of his forehead. His head moved. Was he waking up? No, his eyes were half open, the way that kids in deep sleep sometimes looked. Was he going to fall off the chair? No, because now, as Robin’s head slumped out of sight, Gordon could hear the chittering sound again; like birds discussing what they were going to do next.

The same somethings that were pulling Gordon out of the communal room were also pulling Robin out of his chair. There was a thump as the boy fell to the carpet out of sight. Now Gordon was pulled around the chair and into the corridor that led to the front door. He watched the walls on either side slide by.

This was okay. It had nothing to do with him. It was a dream in a dream.

Gordon’s guitar gave another jangle as it was dragged along somewhere behind him. He heard another bump as Robin was pulled along after him.

Was the safe sleeping place that Gordon had found the same safe place where Robin had been for all that time? If it was, he didn’t mind staying here for a long time.

“Okay,” said Gordon. “That’s okay…”

The chittering came again as he was dragged out through the front door and into the garden. Now all he could see was the great grey sky overhead.

“Good…”

And then there was only the grey, and the safety of this place without bad dreams.