Nightmares in the Dreamhouse

by David Churchill

  “Sh!” Gary said. “There's people through there.” He pointed to the end wall, where the uneven lines of bricks showed where he had balanced them all back in place as well as he could.

  Another firework lit up the skylight with a spectacular bang.

  “I want to look out,” Abby said. “Will it open Gar?”

  She stepped up onto the book box, clinging to the nearest roof timber. Unhooking the window catch she tried to push it then gave the frame a thump which brought another anxious “Sh!” from Gary. She pushed up again and it creaked open, for the first time in goodness how many years, and “Ugh!” she spluttered, letting it thud shut as a shower of cobwebs and dust fluttered horribly down over her eyes and mouth.

  After wiping her dirty hand over her face she tried again and this time carefully pushed it right up until she could latch it open.

  Then she put her head and shoulders out to survey the scene. After a few moments she ducked back inside.

  “You can see for miles,” she said. “All over town. Have a look.”

  Stepping down she made way for Gary and helped him get his balance, but he wasn't quite tall enough to see over the sill.

  “Here, stand on these,” she said, pushing a fat bundle of comics on top of the books for him to step carefully up onto. Now his head vanished like hers had done, out into the cold and smoky darkness.

  Abby heard the ear-splitting shriek of a rocket and saw the flash of white light that followed. Then she saw Gary's feet slide sideways as he came back down through the opening much faster than he had gone out. Next minute he was crashing to the floor, almost sweeping her down with him.

  She was afraid he was hurt, or the rocket had nearly hit him, but that wasn't the problem at all. On his knees, he stared up at her with panic in his eyes.

  “It's them!” he said. “Them two. They're here!”

  He scrambled to his feet. “Come on. Tell the others. We got to get out!”

  “Gary, stop. What did you see?” She held his arm as he turned to run for the opening in the wall.

  “Them! Karen and Roy. I could see across the road when the firework went off. They're here!”

  Abby looked at him doubtfully, then she pushed the comics off the box and climbed back on to it.

  “Don't let them see you,” Gary said breathlessly. “I'll put the light out.”

  Inch by inch, Abby raised her head above the level of the window, until her eyes were out in the cold air. She directed her stare down the roof, past the guttering with scraps of weeds sprouting from it, and across the narrow road that the front doors of the houses had once opened on to. And sure enough, as her eyes accustomed themselves to the dark, she could just make out two moving figures, almost lost in the shadows under the walls of the gardens that ran up to the other side of the road. A cigarette suddenly glowed red against the black. Gary was right.

  Slowly, in case she could be seen, she withdrew her head and stepped down beside Gary.

  “It doesn't have to mean anything,” she said. “They can't really know we're in here. They're out the front and we come in the back.”

  “Why were they there then?” he asked, in a shaky whisper. “Come on, we've got to tell the others. I'm not coming here any more!

  “But I haven't even looked at the books yet,” she said. “Oh, those two spoil everything. OK Gary. You're not wrong. We can't risk being caught in here by those two horrible creatures. Lead the way. I'll bring a bundle of comics - they look like a good laugh, anyway... ”

  28. it's not safe any more

  It was almost finished. For the last quarter of an hour Matthew had worked faster and faster, adding black here and yellow there, moving the steps, scrambling up to colour some more. There was chalk on his hands and clothes, and streaks on his forehead where he had pushed back his hair.

  Cherry still sat in the corner, both cats on her lap, the scissors laid aside. She was afraid to speak and break his concentration. Never in her life had she seen anyone work so hard. It was as if he was in another world. But after a while in the quiet room, the only sound being the soft scraping of the chalk as the picture grew, she became drowsy. Her hands were on the warm, soft fur of the contented cats, and her eyes began to close.

  Then she saw flames flickering in front of her, and she felt a surge of panic, thinking she was in the school library and there was a blaze of papers, but soon she knew that it wasn't the library at all, yet still the red and orange flames were warming her face and she realised that she wasn't in the house either but leaning back on a rocky wall. The flames were meant to be there and through them she could see the other side of the cave.

  Across the smoky space, sometimes hidden as the flames rose, then visible again as they died down or a draught pushed them sideways, a small dark figure was moving. He was up on a ledge, drawing passionately on the far cave wall and shapes were flowing from his hand across the rock, bringing every bump and ridge into the work.

  Peering in wonder through the flickering flames she knew that she was in the presence of something astonishing. She was seeing an artist, a maker, in the act of creation, and the shapes on the rock were magic and were more important than anything that anyone else in the world could ever do.

  As she began to wake, Cherry could still see the fire, but fading now, and then the last flame flickered and was gone and she wasn't in a cave any more yet the small dark figure was still working - conjuring life on the wall which wasn't a wall of rock but a wall of the room in their house.

  And as she came out of her dream, Cherry understood.

  “Matt,” she said from a dry mouth, “Matt. Now I can see it. I know what you are. You're a cave artist. The drawings are magic to make it happen. It's just like we did in... ” but then she tailed off because he had turned and was staring down at her from the steps, looking at her so blankly, as if he didn't have the faintest idea what she was talking about.

  Embarrassed, still confused by the dream, she bowed her head and went on stroking the cats.

  Matthew pushed his hand through his hair, and turned back to the picture. There was just one last thing to do now. Colour in John's face. He climbed down the steps and stood exhausted, bewildered, in the middle of the room. It was deadly quiet. For a moment he was back on the ridge, and John was falling out of the sky, his mother's scream sounding thin and shrill, coming from far away.

  He felt lost and alone, as if there was no-one else in the world but himself and his sightless, speechless, unmoving, faceless, brother.

  Tomorrow, it should happen. He would finish the picture and when he had done it John would wake, and in real life Matthew would see him leaving his bed and walking from the hospital - just like in the picture - and his Mum would smile again.

  But what if it had all been a stupid dream that he had been having? What if he finished the pictures and nothing happened at all? What then? Perhaps John would stay like he was forever. Or something even worse.

  The brilliantly decorated room spun round him and the words hammered in his brain. He couldn't control them as they beat out that horrible rhythm

  It was agony. Matthew pressed chalky hands against his ears to stifle the rising din. Cherry, who had been getting more and more troubled, thinking it was somehow her fault, had just pushed the cats off her lap and dared to get up to go to him when the door flew open.

  Abby was there, wisps of loose hair across her face, and behind her Gary, his shirt-tail flapping. Their faces were full of news.

  Matthew uncovered his ears and swallowed. He felt giddy and a bit sick. For a moment he couldn't take in what they were saying.

  “We've got to abandon ship,” Abby said. “It's not safe any more- ”

  “I saw them,” Gary puffed. “Just outside in the road. How we going to get out?

  Cherry said, “What's happened Abby. What did you see?”

  Abby explained and for a moment there was an anxious silence. Then she went on, “We'll have to creep out everso carefully and then move
away all together in case they come round the back and see us. It'll be all right if we're together. Bring that cat, Cherry.”

  Cherry looked nervously at Matthew. He didn't seem to be taking it in.

  “Matt,” she said. “Did you get all that? Seems like we've got to give this place up straight away - ” But she broke off, seeing the tears welling from his dark eyes to trickle over his chalky face, and he wasn't even trying to wipe them away.

  “Oh Matt,” she said, “your pictures... Can you just... I mean... would it be any good if you just finished that one now? We could wait a bit.”

  She glanced at the others, daring them to disagree, so that they stood there, looking at him, watching for his reaction.

  In the end he said in a croaky voice, “It's all right. I've got to finish it properly tomorrow and tell John on Saturday. Then I've got to wait until he can come and see it. I'll come by myself, like I said I would.”

  No-one spoke. They all felt that they knew more about John's chances than Matthew did. They had heard the talk at home and seen the looks the teachers gave Matthew in school. “I used to think he'd come out of it,” Cherry's mum had said to her Dad the other day. “But there can't be that much hope after all this time,” she had added, as Cherry went out through the door.

  Gary swallowed and tried to stop himself but the words still came out.

  “I'll keep coming Matt,” he said. “You can't come by yourself.”

  Matthew already knew that. Alone in the house the crazy words would drown him and deafen him and destroy him. He knew that, but he'd still have to do it.

  Abby looked at the pictures and saw Cherry doing the same. Their eyes met. They both wanted to help him more than anything in the world. She looked a question and Cherry nodded strongly so that the some-day ponytail bounced backwards and forwards.

  “Well,” Abby said thoughtfully, “we must be enormously careful. But we could risk it tomorrow - if that's any good Matt. I could have a look at the books.”

  “What do you think Matt?” Cherry asked. “Will that help?”

  Matthew's face was pale under the smudges of chalk.

  “Don't know,” he said. “But thanks. You're ... you're... ”

  “A just amazing gang of fantastically brilliant geniuses, and very caring too, you were going to say, weren't you Matt,” Abby said helpfully.

  Gary grinned. He had amazed himself by offering to come again with Matthew, but he was more than glad the others were coming too.

  They packed up to leave then. Cherry volunteered to look out first. She raised the piece of fence that was still used as a cover when they were inside, while the others crouched silently on the coal beside her. Seeing nothing, she crawled slowly out and peered all around. Then she whispered, “It's OK,” and first Matthew, then Gary and finally Abby eased themselves gently out into the night air. Gary pushed the manhole cover partly across the hole and then ledged the fence piece over it as usual, leaving just enough space for the cats to glide in and out.

  Then, in a line, a little space between each of them, and ready to run like mad if the enemy appeared, they moved out into the lamplight of the main road. An echoing explosion from a firework on top of the hill made them jump, but the road was empty and after staying together until they were close to their own streets, they split and ran for home.

  * * *

  “One little black rabbit,” Roy had whispered into Karen's cold ear. She shook with a silent snigger. “One little Matty rabbit. One fat stinky rabbit - mind you don't get stuck, Stiggy! And one tall, skinny rabbit... what a long tail it's got. And that's the tale of the four bad bunnies who all lived happy ever after. Only they won't!” he added viciously.

  As the friends slipped away towards the street, Karen followed Roy out from behind the remains of a shed.

  Roy kicked aside the piece of fence, and they stared down at the manhole cover

  “That is a surprise,” he said. “What a sneaky little rabbit hole. And what a long time they've been down it. I wonder what's inside. Come on Karen, things are looking good!”

  29. I can hear Roy coming up the stairs

  Drizzle in the air and a mean wind. Friday November the fourth. Matthew coming into the hospital for - what? - the fortieth, the fiftieth time? So many evenings and he hadn't missed one. But tonight he felt bad. He couldn't face people in the lift and his legs hardly had the strength to carry him up from stair to stair.

  Beryl, the loud nurse, greeted him and though she was friendly her voice made him wince. He couldn't look her in the eye.

  John was just the same as always. Matthew knew they turned him over regularly, so he wouldn't get sore, but for Matthew's visit he was always in the same position - on his back, eyes closed, as if he had been like it since the evening before, or the week before, or the month before.

  Matthew often wondered how could anyone - even someone in a coma - just not move, never move, for an hour, let alone days and days and days.

  At last the nurse went and the door swung shut and Matthew could snuggle up on the bed. He wanted just to surrender, shut his eyes and go to sleep by his brother, like he used to on holiday sometimes when they had shared a bed next door to Mum and Dad.

  But he did want to talk to him. He had to talk to him. John had to hear him and understand what he was saying before it was too late.

  My pictures are nearly done John. It's just your face I've got to do tonight. Then you can come and see it all. But it's got to be everso soon. The others are frightened to go there now because Karen and Roy have closed in on us. Gary and Abby saw them from the attic window. They were just over the road. We don't think they quite know, but they will soon and then they might do anything. You know what Roy's like. The others have had enough but I can't stop ‘til you wake up.

  If you're not quite ready yet I'll try and go by myself if I have to and add to the pictures but I'll be scared in case they trap me in there. Gary says he'll go on coming with me but I don't know if he could. And it'd only be two of us anyway. It will be horrible in there by myself and I might not be able to but it's our only hope...

  A bang outside the door, as someone walked into a trolley, broke the thread and made him sit up with a jump. When he looked back down at John he had that odd feeling that he had just missed something. But even as his heart lurched, he saw that there was no change - just the even, light breathing and the closed eyelids with the thick, dark lashes on the pale face.

  Mum doesn't seem very well. She got all worked up ‘cos the hinge came off the back gate like it did before. I tried to fix it with Dad's screwdriver but the screws just went round and round so it won't last long. I nearly got a detention today for not finishing my maths homework again. Mr Tanner said he knew I had problems but it wouldn't help if I got behind and he'd have to write to Mum if I didn't pull my socks up. We had football but I couldn't run much and Mr Wells said he thought I'd been discoing all night. It's bonfire day tomorrow. Roy'll like that, he's always burning things. Perhaps they won't be looking for us if there's all fireworks everywhere.

  John -he leaned close now, trying to get the words right inside his brother's brain - it's got to be now. The picture will be finished tonight. It could be our last chance. So you've got to wake up - you've got to. Or what have I done all that work for. I've tried so hard. But it is getting too dangerous now. I keep waking up in the night with horrible nightmares. I can hear Roy coming up the stairs and I'm all by myself and when I scream for you I can't make any sound at all. I have worse ones than that, even - much worse -

  And he jumped then because he had the maddest idea that John had moved, under the covers, just by where Matthew's arm was resting. He sat upright and stared at the still face on the pillow.

  John... John... it's me, Matthew. Open your eyes now! Speak to me! I'm just here, on your bed and I need you now. The pictures are almost done and I'm tired and everything's going wrong and I've nearly had it and -

  Then the door swung wide open to make room for th
e nurse and Matthew shut up, ashamed of losing control but shaking all over. He scrambled off the bed to hide his embarrassment.

  “Everything all right then, love?”

  If it had been Sharon then Matthew might have said, “No, I thought he moved,” but somehow it didn't seem any use to say it to Nurse Beryl. Anyway, he wasn't moving. He wasn't doing anything. Nothing had changed.

  “I'd better go now,” he said. “'Bye Johnny. Try hard - please!” and he scuttled out through the door and down the corridor before the nurse could say a word.

  30. he felt like a hunted animal

  Outside, the drizzle had turned to rain and the wind was gusting. Matthew pushed his chin down into the collar of his jacket and shivered as the wind wrapped his jeans about his legs. He looked round quickly to see if the enemy were in sight, but on such a horrible evening he didn't think they would be. He wondered, anxiously, if the others would have been able to get out, or would they have kept their promise, with the weather and the danger to contend with.

  Old autumn leaves swirled off the grass by the hospital driveway and spun round his feet as he plodded away from the brightly lit hospital. He felt tired and fed up and a bit sick. When he reached the hill and was approaching the Dumps he stayed close to the walls and kept glancing behind, just in case. He felt like a hunted animal, and it was a nasty feeling. But there was no-one at all out on the wet pavement, just cars swishing past, windscreen wipers beating backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards.

  He reached the entrance to the house and pulled the fence aside, wondering why he was bothering, wondering if the others had dared to come at all, after last night. But there were signs that they were there. In the light of the little torch, which he still carried - perhaps Roy wouldn't do anything to him if he gave it back - he saw a pile of comics by the steps, almost hidden by the smelly cans. The door at the top was slightly open and light showed round it. He pushed it open, suddenly glad to be back again.