“Somebody do something!” said Daisy, clearly upset.
Sebastian leaped to his feet. “Gentlemen—stop!” he shouted.
Ron and John both froze and looked up. On seeing the pupils, the men both jumped up and brushed themselves off, both looking slightly sheepish at having been caught acting so unprofessionally. They mumbled something between themselves and then nodded, shook hands, and walked purposefully up the hill.
“Sorry about that,” said John.
“Why are you fighting?” asked Lexi.
“We weren’t fighting,” said Ron. “Just, um, a small disagreement.”
“Looked like a fight to me,” said Rex.
“Thing is,” said John, “Ron and I have an issue from a few years back that we’ve never managed to sort out. It comes up once in a while.”
“Every day,” corrected Ron, looking annoyed.
“Whatever,” said John, not looking at Ron. “Anyway, when we heard about all the other stuff you can do with that Ability of yours today, we thought that maybe you could settle the matter once and for all.”
“We can do that,” said Lexi. “Right?”
Everybody nodded except Chris, though he didn’t stand up to leave—he didn’t want to have to explain himself to Ron and John.
“Good,” said John. “Then Ron can apologize and it’ll all be over.”
“Apologize? I think you’re the only one around here who’s going to be apologizing.”
“We’ll see about that, Ron,” said John.
“Yes, John, we will. . . .”
Sebastian raised his hand. “Stop. We will conclude this. Explain the situation.”
Ron took a deep breath. “Just gone midnight. Fifth of July 1990. Iraq.”
“We arrived back to our tent after doing some military work,” continued John. “Can’t tell you much about that except that it was just the two of us and we hadn’t slept in three days. Anyway, cut a long story short: I fell asleep and woke up to find that Ron had stolen from me.”
Daisy gasped. “Really, Ron?”
“No! Of course not!” said Ron, furious.
“Well, you tell me who, then? We’re in a tent in the middle of the desert. Nobody else for miles around. I go to sleep and it’s there. I wake up and it’s not.”
“What’s not there?” asked Rex. “A gun?”
Ron and John both turned to Rex, looking confused.
“Why would I steal a gun?” asked Ron, “I had plenty of my own. No, John here thinks I took his chocolate bar.”
“A chocolate bar?” repeated the pupils in unison, shocked.
“Yes, well, it might not sound like much,” said John, sounding defensive. “But it’s the principle of it. You don’t steal from your partner—if you can’t trust him with something as basic as food, how can you trust him with your life?”
“He’s got a point,” said Rex.
“And then, to make matters worse, he lies about it.”
“I didn’t lie about it—I just didn’t do it,” said Ron.
“No? Who did, then? Tell me that. Do you think a wild desert animal found our tent, unzipped it, unwrapped the bar, and then ate my chocolate?”
“Well it wasn’t me, so unless you—”
“Why don’t we just find out?” asked Lexi.
Ron and John nodded.
“What do I have to do?” asked Ron. He lifted his sunglasses, and from the way his eyes were darting about, it was clear that he was nervous.
“Nothing,” said Philip. “Just sit down and we’ll find out.”
Rex stood up to make room for Ron on the bench.
“Who’s going to do it?” asked Ron.
“We’ll all do it,” said Lexi, scooting around so that she sat cross-legged on the grass in front of him. “Right, Chris?”
Chris didn’t know what to say. He could feel John looking at him, and he nodded slowly.
“All right,” said Ron, “just don’t go anywhere else.”
“We won’t,” said Rex. “Midnight to morning, yes?”
Ron nodded.
Chris was in no mood for running around minds with the others. He saw the others’ faces go blank and decided that there was no need for him to do it as well, but then he noticed that John was looking at him, a puzzled expression on his face. Before John could say anything, Chris let his mind eyes glaze over, and within seconds, he was standing in Ron’s Reception surrounded by the image that Ron was looking at: himself, John, and the other pupils staring intently at him. Chris could sense Ron’s nerves as he moved forward toward the door at the other side of the room. The others turned and saw him, but nobody said anything as Rex reached over to the handle.
“This should be interesting,” said Rex, opening the door.
A blaring alarm suddenly exploded to life, making them all jump.
Beeeeeeeep . . . beeeeeep . . . beeeeeeep . . . waaaaaaaaaaa!
“What is that noise?” shouted Daisy, her hands to her ears.
“It’s an alarm,” replied Philip.
Chris stepped out onto the orange dirt path and looked around at the featureless gray concrete buildings.
“Over there!” called Sebastian, pointing in the direction of Calendar Street.
Chris followed the others from a short distance behind as they broke into a run, eager to get into the building they were looking for and away from the deafening wails of the sirens.
Chris, hands up to his ears, ran past the first buildings along Calendar Street and watched as Rex checked the signs by the doors until he found the one he was looking for. He nodded and opened the door, rushing in as the others quickly followed behind him. Chris was the last one in. He closed the door behind him. Immediately, the sound of the sirens disappeared. Everybody breathed a sigh of relief.
“Nice of you to join us,” said Rex.
Chris didn’t respond.
“No wonder he’s so jumpy with all that going on in his head,” said Daisy. Always the one to change the subject, thought Chris.
“Come on,” said Philip, “let’s get this done and get out. Just being in here makes me jumpy too.”
“I concur,” said Sebastian, walking over to the first of the filing cabinets and checking the label.
Chris went in the opposite direction from the others and began checking the filing cabinets until, finally, Philip shouted out from the corner of the room.
“Here! I found it!”
Chris walked back over as Philip opened up the top drawer of the filing cabinet that was marked JUNE-JULY-AUGUST 1990.
“July third . . . fourth . . . Here we go,” said Philip, pulling out a green file. He held it out in front of him, opened it, and watched the memories come flying out, lining themselves up in a row in front of them—a long snake of hovering images made up of colorful dots jumping around each other.
Sebastian, who happened to be standing at the beginning of the line, reached out and touched the first image. The memory exploded open in front of them, larger and larger, until all that Chris could see in front of him was the inside of a large green tent and two enormous backpacks resting by the closed entrance. The wind swept gently against the sides of the tent, causing the canvas to ripple slowly from left to right. The sun filtered through the fabric, casting a green glow about the sparse surroundings.
They all watched as Ron began to wake slowly until, suddenly, a deep booming voice broke through the morning calm.
“Where’s my chocolate?”
Chris saw Ron look round and come face-to-face with a much younger, and very angry, John.
“What are you talking about, John?” said Ron, pushing John away as he sat up.
Sebastian reached out and touched the memory. Immediately, it disappeared, collapsing back into a flat image of green and brown dots bouncing around each other at the front of the line. Sebastian pushed his hand against the image, and it moved back into the others before disappearing into the green folder, which then fell to the floor with a thud.
Chris picked it up and placed it back in the drawer as the others watched him.
“So he didn’t do it,” said Daisy. “The chocolate was already stolen when he woke up.”
“Or he doesn’t remember doing it,” suggested Philip.
“Upstairs, then?” asked Lexi.
The top floor was much like the first except darker and dirtier. There, the thoughts and memories that were long forgotten were stored. It was also the place, as Chris had learned over the course of his studies at Myers Holt, where most dreams were stored—assigned to forgotten cabinets almost immediately on waking.
“Over here,” said Daisy, opening up a drawer.
Chris watched as Daisy pulled out a file that was, not surprisingly given the amount of time that had passed, much larger than the one downstairs.
“There is something contained here from earlier in the day,” said Sebastian, excited, as he stared at the front of the line of hovering memories. “It is labeled ‘three a.m.’ ”
Sebastian touched the swirling image, but this time, instead of seeing the inside of a dark tent, as they were all expecting, a kitchen appeared. Chris looked around the small room with its cream cabinets and wooden countertop and shook his head, confused.
“He’s dreaming,” said Lexi, pointing to the pink haze that surrounded all memories of dreams.
Of course, thought Chris, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he watched silently as Ron stood up and walked over to a counter. He looked down, and there, lying unopened, was an enormous bar of milk chocolate.
“Mmmmm, chocolate!” said Ron, sounding giddy with excitement.
Ron’s hand reached out and began to frantically unwrap the bar, stuffing the chocolate into his mouth.
“I don’t get it,” said Lexi as they watched Ron munching contentedly. “He’s dreaming it—it wasn’t him.”
“Maybe, even though he was sleeping, he knew that someone was eating it, and he dreamed about it,” said Philip, collapsing the image down and placing it back into the drawer.
They had all started to walk back downstairs and were desperately trying to find an explanation when Philip drew a sharp breath.
“What?”
“I’ve got it! I know what happened! He was sleepwalking!”
• • •
“Well, did you find out?” asked Ron as soon as he saw that everybody had stopped using their Ability.
“Yes!” said Daisy, excited.
“Are you ready?” asked Rex. “The reason that the chocolate bar got eaten was that . . .”
“Ron was sleepwalking,” said Chris flatly.
“Thanks for ruining the reveal, Christopher,” said Rex.
Chris shrugged unapologetically.
“I was sleepwalking?” asked Ron. He was too shocked to notice the tension between Chris and the others.
“He didn’t remember it at all. It was stored where all the forgotten memories are kept,” explained Daisy.
“I don’t know what to do with that,” said John finally. “It’s not like I can have a go at you about something like that.”
“Yeah, guess not,” said Ron. “Still, sorry about eating your chocolate in my sleep, John.”
“It’s all right, Ron.” John turned to the children and nodded. “Thanks for that.”
“You are most welcome,” said Sebastian.
“Game of cards?” asked Ron as he walked off down the hill.
“In a moment,” said John. “You go set up. Chris?”
Chris tensed, wondering why he was being singled out. “Yes?” he asked.
“Remember how you asked me last term about how a car engine works and I said I’d show you?” asked John.
Chris knew he had too good a memory now to forget something like that. “No, John. It wasn’t me.”
“Course it was,” said John, standing up. “Remember?”
Chris had no idea where this was going, but it was obvious that John wanted him to say yes.
“Er, maybe.”
“Right, then. I’ll show you now if you’ve got five minutes.”
“Oh, it’s all right . . . ,” said Chris. Then he looked round at the others, all watching him, and decided he’d rather spend time with John than with them. “Actually, yeah—now’s a good time.”
• • •
Neither Chris nor John spoke until they were standing outside Myers Holt, next to the school car.
“John,” said Chris as John walked over to the driver’s-side door.
“Yes?” John opened the door and began to lower his gigantic frame into the seat.
“I never asked you about car engines.”
John looked over the roof in Chris’s direction. “I know,” he said as he disappeared into the car and closed the door.
Chris wasn’t sure what was going on. Did John want him to get in the car? Wait outside? Then the window next to him rolled down.
“Get in,” called John from the other side.
Chris hesitated, because he now understood why John had brought him here. And Chris was in no mood for talking.
Sure enough, as soon as Chris took his seat, John turned to him.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?” he asked.
Chris shook his head, his shoulders hunched. “Not really.”
“All right, then. How about I guess what’s happened and you just nod if I’m right.”
Chris thought about this for a moment, then nodded.
“I think that maybe you had a bit of a falling out with your friends today. Yes or no?”
He nodded.
“You’re angry with them.”
Chris nodded again.
“Because they didn’t believe you about seeing that boy.”
Chris tensed. “You didn’t believe me either.”
“I never said that,” said John.
“No. But that’s what you were thinking,” said Chris, his heart beginning to race, his words coming out faster. “You all think I’m crazy. Nobody understands what—”
“Chris. Stop,” said John firmly. He turned his head to face forward. “I know you better than you think, son. And I know you’re not crazy.”
“How do you know?” asked Chris. His eyes began to fill with tears. “Maybe I am crazy. Maybe I was imagining that boy—I’m not sure of anything anymore.”
“I know you’re not crazy because I know what you’ve been through—I’ve been there myself.”
Chris swallowed, trying to push away the lump that was forming in his throat. “What do you mean?” he asked.
John stayed looking straight ahead. “I know what it’s like to kill someone.”
Chris’s eyes widened. Of course; John had been in the army.
“I know about the nightmares,” continued John. “I know what it’s like to see the face of the person you killed everywhere. I know how it feels when the people around you can’t understand what you’re going through because they can’t—not unless they’ve been in the same position.”
Chris felt a tear roll down his cheek. “Does it ever stop?”
“No. It doesn’t ever go away.”
“I didn’t think so,” said Chris.
“But,” said John, turning to face him, “it does get easier. You need time. And you need your friends.”
Chris lowered his head.
“It’s not their fault that they don’t understand. You just have to accept that. They can’t, and I hope they never will. That doesn’t make them any less your friends. It doesn’t mean they don’t care. If you want to move on from this, then you need them. And they need you. It’ll be hard at first, but I promise you, it does get easier.”
“I hope so,” said Chris.
There was a moment of silence as Chris thought about everything John was saying.
“That’s all I had to say about that,” said John finally. “I hope you’ll think about it.”
Chris nodded. And then he thought of something that had been playing on his mind since Sir Bent
ley had read out the letter the boy had written.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything at all,” said John.
“Do you think it would be wrong to wipe my mum’s mind?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean wiping her mind the way Dulcia’s mind was wiped by her son.”
“I don’t know. What do you think?” asked John.
Chris shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not sure. I wouldn’t do it like that boy did—I’d just wipe away all the sad memories so that she would be happy again. But then I think that I’d have to get rid of the memories of my dad from her mind, and that seems wrong. No matter how unhappy I was, I wouldn’t want anybody to take away the memories I have of him.”
“You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you?”
Chris nodded. “Do you think the boy feels bad for wiping his mother’s mind?”
“Maybe. I can’t answer that. It couldn’t have been an easy thing for him to do, that’s for sure.”
“I wish I could ask him. I know he hates me for what I did to his brother, but I think we have a lot in common. It’s not the same, but his mum was messed up. Like mine.”
“Maybe there are things that are similar, but that’s true of you and anybody else. And your mums—now, I haven’t met yours, I admit, but I’m thinking they’re not the same, not unless your mum goes around stabbing people.”
Chris smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose.”
John sighed. “Look, son. If there is one thing that will drive you crazy in life, it’s spending your time thinking about the what-ifs. There are just some things you can’t change—meeting the boy, the way your mum is, things like that. You could wipe her mind, but you’d have to live with that for the rest of your life, and I think that would be harder than just learning to accept your life as it is. And finding the best in it. You know what I mean?”
“Yes,” said Chris, “I think I do.” He looked John in the eye. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” said John, giving Chris a pat on the shoulder. “That’ll be fifty quid.”
Chris gave a small laugh as John leaned over and opened the glove box. He pulled out a booklet and handed it to Chris. “Should take you a few seconds to memorize—in case anybody quizzes you on your car knowledge.”
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