Chapter 2

With nothing better to do, Sam slid out of the bunk as straight-legged as possible, and seated himself on the carpet to do Zach's homework. At least if he leaped out before school tomorrow as he hoped, Zach would have one thing less to worry about when he returned. Pulling open the textbook, Sam quickly scanned the questions. He could have completed the homework in moments, but the care he took in trying to replicate the eight-year-old's scrawl made the exercise rather more time consuming.

When he had finished, Sam dumped the books at the corner of the empty mattress and looked around the room for a clock. He was starting to feel hungry and figured that by now it must be almost supper time, although clearly no cooking was under way in the kitchen.

Unable to find the clock, Sam was about to head out to search the kitchen cupboards, when somewhere, he heard the Imaging Chamber door open. He glanced around, but Al wasn't in the room. He turned back to open the bedroom door and was slightly startled when Al stepped through the closed door and came almost nose to nose with him.

"Oh, there you are!" Al exclaimed as Sam instinctively took a couple of steps backwards. "Sorry, did I make you jump?"

Sam gave him a look, but didn't waste words. "Have you found out why I'm here?"

Al's expression turned serious. "Yeah, we have a pretty clear idea."

"Go on."

"Sam, there's a deep quarry about a quarter of a mile away somewhere through the trees behind this house. Have you been there?"

"No."

"Well, don't. In two days, Zach is reported missing. The following day, his body is found in the quarry."

Sam lowered himself onto the bottom bunk, trying to digest the news. He was silent for a while.

"You OK?" Al asked, tapping at the handlink before appearing to seat himself beside Sam.

"How does it happen, Al?"

"I can't tell you. Nobody saw anything – or at least nobody admitted to seeing anything – so the mystery was never solved. Did he jump? Did he fall? Was he pushed, and if so, who by?"

Al listed the options until Sam interrupted. "I can't believe an eight-year-old child would jump. Even if his life is as miserable as this. He might run away, but not kill himself."

"Well, you might be right. Do you have any other ideas?"

"All the other things you said seem feasible. He could have fallen. He doesn't seem to have any friends at school – you saw the way it was – I guess some kids might try a prank that goes wrong. I haven't met Zach's dad yet, although one of the neighbors I spoke to seemed to have a fairly low opinion of him." Sam leaned his head against the bunk ladder. Sometimes he just didn't feel ready for a stressful leap.

"I had a chat with Zach. He told me God put you here because he prayed for help. He's a nice kid. We cleaned him up and fed him and already he's got more of a sparkle in his eyes. I don't like the thought that he has to come back here. He told me his mom left with his two little sisters when he was six. He hasn't seen her since and he doesn't understand why she left him behind." Al paused.

"Sorry, Al. That must bring back some painful memories for you." Sam could remember snatches of what Al had told him about his childhood.

Al smiled resignedly. "At least maybe I can be a sympathetic ear for the kid. He says his grandma used to come and look after him after his mom left, but she was elderly and couldn't do everything. Then two months ago, she died suddenly. And now no-one really takes care of him. He's not sure what his dad does for a job, but Zach hardly sees him, especially since his grandma died. He seems to be out all day and often comes home drunk at night." Al paused again. "I asked him if his dad ever hits him."

"What did he say?"

"He said, 'Sometimes, when he's not himself.' Then he changed the subject."

"Do you think it's worse than he's letting on?" Sam asked.

"I'm not sure if it's that, or if he just didn't want to get his dad into trouble. He's still a bit wary about where he is, even though he seems to be brightening up. I'm sorry I can't be more help."

"At least it's a start." Sam looked at his grubby clothes again. "If I'm going to have to go to school tomorrow, I should try to clean myself up a bit. Maybe that'll give Zach a better chance of finding friends."

"It's a step in the right direction. Maybe I can give him a bit of advice on his appearance, so he'll keep it up when he gets back."

Sam chuckled at this. "Try not to indoctrinate him too much. Your dress sense is probably a little too 'individual' for Zach's school."

"Very funny, Sam." The pair grinned at each other and for a moment the mood was lightened.

Sam stood up. "First, I'm going to see if there's any food in the cupboards. What's the time, Al?"

Al tapped at the handlink again and gave it a sharp whack. "Almost half past five."

"Not too early for supper then." Sam started to head for the door.

"For you, maybe. At home it's about half three in the morning!" Al made the comment jovially, but as Sam turned back to Al, he looked remorseful.

"Al, I'm really sorry. I forget …"

Al immediately laughed at him. "Hey, by now I'm used to shifts without boundaries."

"I suppose you don't want to stay for a bit then?" Sam asked hesitantly. "It's lonely here."

"It would be an honor," Al said with deliberate pretension and he followed Sam out of Zach's bedroom.

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There wasn't much to be found in the kitchen – a stash of canned foods, some bread that wasn't too stale for toasting and a few other staples – but Sam's supper of baked beans on toast was satisfying enough, if not fancy.

Sam spent the evening washing himself and Zach's clothes, searching for anything clean that he could wear in bed and at school the following day and tidying the house. Al alternated between keeping Sam company with friendly conversation, investigating the quarry site and checking for any updates back at the project.

At just after 10pm, when Sam was stretched out on the top bunk in a pair of pajamas that were slightly too short in the arms and legs, absent-mindedly twisting Scruff's ears round his fingers and exchanging stories with Al, who was pretending to lie on the bottom bunk, they heard the front door open. Al went ahead of Sam to check the situation. He reported back that a man, presumably Zach's father, had entered, slightly inebriated, and was now seated on the sofa watching the television.

Sam slid carefully out of the bunk and quietly slipped into the living room. "Hi Dad," he ventured. This was met by a grunt. "I met Mrs Williams on the way home. She says we need to cut the grass." This time there was no answer at all. "Well, good night, Dad." Sam waited, then tried again. "Good night, Dad."

"Hmm," was the only response.

Sam gave up and shrugged at Al as he walked out of the room. Al smiled half-heartedly at Sam and followed him back to Zach's bedroom.

Sam hoisted himself back into the bunk and leaned back on his elbows, looking miserable at the hopelessness of life in the Slater household.

"I suppose I should be grateful he wasn't in an aggressive mood," Sam reflected. "How am I ever going to turn things around in this house and make Zach's life worth coming back to?"

"You leaped in to save Zach's life. Nobody's expecting you to work miracles on the father."

"What's the point in saving his life, if he just has this to come back to?" Sam blurted out.

"Don't say that, Sam. We don't know what the future holds for him." Al looked at Sam and saw that his face was still a picture of frustration. "Sam, there was a long period when my everyday existence was so miserable that life didn't seem worth living. But I don't ever regret the fact that I lived, because there was so much great stuff ahead for me. Zach's life is worth saving. Don't ever lose sight of that."

There was silence for a while. Then Sam spoke quietly. "Sorry, Al. I just feel there must be something more that I can do."

"I know. Look, I should head back." Al tapped at the handlink and the Imaging Chamber door opened in front of the bedroom door. "Get some sleep, and stay away from that quarry. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night, Al."

"Good night, Sam."

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After Al had left, Sam shuffled backwards onto the pillow so he could push the duvet down and get underneath it. With the duvet pushed down, Sam noticed that the mattress was too small for the bed frame and on the wall side of the bed, there was a gap between the side of the mattress and the side of the frame. Stuffed into this gap was a torch, a blue notebook, a pencil, some coins, a rolled-up comic, an alarm clock and, inexplicably, a long, thin stick with some sort of putty stuck to one end. Sam pulled out the alarm clock, relieved that there would be some way of waking himself up in time for school. He tested the alarm and then set it for 6.30am. As he did so, he realised that he wasn't sure what time the bus would be picking him up. He would have to get to the bus stop early.

Curious about the notebook, Sam pulled it out and flicked through the pages. It appeared to be some sort of informal diary and Sam clapped it shut, his first thought being that he shouldn't read it. He pondered for a moment and reasoned that it could contain useful information. As he had leaped in to help Zach, reading it was surely excusable.

He slid under the duvet, rested the open book on his chest and started from the beginning. The first few pages contained colored drawings that seemed to have been done by a very young child. On one of the pictures, Zach had written his name, but Sam figured it must have been written several years earlier, as the handwriting in Zach's current math book was smaller and far steadier.

After the pictures came some writing, and this was much more recent. Sam began to read:

July 21st 1987

Grandma died today and I feel sad because now theres no one to talk to.

July 28th 1987

The funarel was today Dad had lots to drink and I'm staying in my room.

August 13th 1987

Dad stays out lots and I dont know how to cook food and I'm scard about whats going to hapen to me.

August 16th 1987

Everything is bad. Dad was geting reely cross tonite and he walked funy and fell over and I got cross with him and he hit me and I feel sad. Grandma toled me if I was in truble I should pray so lord I know its a big world and I'm 1 kid in it but plese dont foget me because I'm scard and I dont know what to do because you took grandma away and she was the only one to look after me.

August 27th 1987

I'm hid in my room and dad is braking stuff. Dear god plese keep me safe.

August 28th 1987

You know I said dad was braking stuff, well he brok a window.

September 12th 1987

Stuffs geting bad at school. Mrs Adams keeps asking me if I'm ok and I dont know what to say because I dont know what will hapen to me if they know. Some kids said I smell and I cant help it. I dont know how to wash stuff. Mrs Wiliams says she can help me if I want but I'm scard to say yes because dad will get mad. He did befor.

September 28th 1987

Its all bad. Ive got no frends at all and I'm very sad because theres never enyone to talk to ecept god. I might try and find mom because she might like me now I'm 8 and not little enymore. I could help her and play with my sisters. I'm going to find out were she is. Dear lord, plese rember me even if your bisy.

Sam read through the few pages of writing and then flicked through empty pages to the back of the note book. There was nothing more. He closed the book, hugged it to his chest and said softly, "He sent me Zach, and I'm going to help you."

He tucked the book back down the side of the bed and frowned, remembering that he needed to get out of bed to switch the light off. With his sore knees, that was just a nuisance. Then he grinned to himself, suddenly realising the genius of the boy who had a long stick with a putty end tucked down the side of his bed. Pulling out the stick, he sat up and shuffled forward towards the end of the bed. From there, he was able to poke the light switch off with very little difficulty.

Sam tucked the stick back down the side of the bed and sat Scruff down in the corner of the mattress next to the wall. He snuggled down into the bed and burrowed the side of his head into the pillow. He now knew what he could do to try to change Zach's life. Tomorrow he would find Zach's mother. Slightly comforted by this thought, Sam drifted into a deep sleep.

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Even Zach's alarm clock bleeping loudly near Sam's right ear took a while to rouse him fully from sleep the next morning. Eventually he came to his senses enough to reach for the off button and mentally moaned that there was no snooze option. He forced himself to sit up, knowing that if he didn't, he would quickly fall asleep again. As he did so, he gasped at the stinging sensation as he moved his legs and disturbed the scabs that had started to form on his knees overnight. He threw back the duvet and pushed the legs of his pajamas up to inspect the damage. The grazes were weeping through the dressings and Sam winced as he carefully peeled the tissue paper away from his damaged skin. He decided to let the wounds dry in the air, and hoped that he wouldn't knock them against anything during the day.

Dressed in a relatively clean, but again, slightly small pair of shorts and a T-shirt that he had picked out the night before, Sam crept out of the bedroom to the bathroom, unsure whether Zach's father was still in the house. He washed his face and combed his hair as best he could and smiled at the improved reflection of Zach that stared back at him.

He quickly prepared a breakfast of toast with raspberry jam and a cup of tea, but decided against making a sandwich for lunch as the bread was just too stale.

Slipping back to Zach's room, he checked the clock. It was 7am. Remembering to grab the math homework, he headed out for the bus, relieved to be leaving Zach's home behind for another day.

He quickly walked to the junction where the bus had dropped him off the night before, and leaned against a big tree to wait. After a few minutes, the Imaging Chamber door opened and Al stepped out. "Morning, Sam."

"Hi. I haven't missed the bus, have I?"

"No, you're OK. It won't be along for a while yet. How're your knees."

Sam glanced down at the two raw patches. "Excruciating when I first bent them getting up this morning, but they're OK now I'm up and moving."

"Anything happened since last night?"

"No. I didn't even see Zach's dad this morning. You got anything new to tell me?"

"Not yet. I'm going to head back. Just wanted to check you were OK." Al tapped at the handlink and the Imaging Chamber door opened again.

"Hang on, Al. I've got an idea and I need your help."

"What is it?"

"I want to contact Zach's mother. But I don't know who she is or where she is."

Al was sceptical. "Sam, I'm not sure about this. She walked out on him. She's not worth it."

"Al, I know this brings back bad memories for you, but we don't know anything about why she left, or why she didn't take Zach. I think she should have the chance to explain. And maybe she's the key to getting him out of here. I just need you to tell me who she is and how I can contact her."

Al looked resigned. "OK, I'll look into it. Just don't lose sight of why you're here, Sam. You need to save Zach's life. If you don't, then his mother's not going to be any use to him. I'll see you later."

Sam waited until Al had vanished through the door and then he sat down on a protruding root belonging to the big tree. After about ten minutes, he saw the bus approaching in the distance. He walked to the edge of the road as it drew alongside.

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On the journey to school, Sam chose a tactic for the day. There needed to be a back-up plan in case things didn't work out with Zach's mother. He figured if he was alert in class and generally tried to fit in and socialise with some nice kids, and if in the meantime Al could work with Zach and teach him to take care of himself, then maybe by the time he leaped out, between them they might have made some positive steps towards integrating Zach into a decent peer group. That at least might offer him some support.

In class, Sam noted the mild surprise on Mrs Adams' face when he handed in the completed homework. Later, when he raised his hand to answer a question, she paused at the sight and smiled warmly at him. "Go on, Zach." Of course, Sam answered effortlessly and she praised him enthusiastically in return. He couldn't help but grin to himself as he caught sight of a little girl on his left smiling cheerily at him. Things were going well.

At recess, he scoured the playground and chose to approach a group of three friendly looking boys from his class who were kicking a ball between themselves. They seemed speechless for a moment at his request to play with them, but the tallest of the three quickly recovered and welcomed him into the game. Soon the four were playing as though it was an entirely normal occurrence. Mrs Adams, peering through the classroom window shook her head in disbelief. She silently hoped she would now be relieved of her dilemma over whether to alert the authorities about Zach's situation.

When lunchtime approached, Sam was starting to regret his decision not to pack something to eat, as he had no money for lunch. He didn't realise he could bank on the generosity of his new friends who all offered to share a little of their packed lunches with him, when he quietly admitted that there wasn't really any food at home that he could bring for lunch.

The morning had gone so well that Sam was wondering why Zach had been having so much trouble keeping friends at school. He felt that the results of his fairly limited efforts had been huge. Perhaps it helped that he had improved Zach's appearance, but Sam wondered if confidence was the biggest factor. It seemed to him that Zach had been so badly affected, both physically and emotionally, by the events at home over the past couple of months, that when maybe a few spiteful or thoughtless kids had made some unkind comments, Zach had just withdrawn, not having the self-confidence to ignore them and carry on. And somehow life had gone on without him. Suddenly Sam could see some potential. If Zach could be given the confidence to hold his head up and see his worth, his old friends would still be there waiting for him.

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