Destiny

2 Passing Through

'Gone.'

Tom took the stairs four at a time.

'Vanished!' he thought as he came crashing on to the landing at the bottom of the stairs.

He startled Aunt Gwen out of her snooze, frantically blurting out all he could remember to her, while simultaneously rushing her up to his room.

'This is it! She'll have to believe me now! She has to!'

Aunt Gwen had listened, but also followed rather clumsily and hesitantly, as she was pulled upstairs by force. Tom hurried to his room, flinging his door open and-

Back in the corner, where it had first sprung to life, was the big old tank itself. And Tom suddenly felt the supper in his stomach churn uncomfortably.

"But... it..."

Aunt Gwen tapped her knuckle firmly against the wall. It made a sickening sound of bone against brick. A solid wall. No hollow pockets to be found or heard anywhere.

"Solid, Tom, see? Must have dozed off. Dreamt it."

'No.' thought Tom. 'It HAD happened. I saw it!'

"It's been a long day." Aunt Gwen whispered as she brushed a curl of brown hair from Tom's eyes, the way his mother used to. "Tomorrow," she said, "you'll laugh."

But Tom hadn't heard. His mind was now busy replaying what he had seen earlier, almost as if to make sure that he did not forget. He would not forget. Tom gazed out over the shadowy fields to the spire of the ancient Hallowsby Church and thought deeply.

Not far away, at least in a sense that related to neither time nor distance, a pedlar from an old town in a country of a strange-named continent sat in the shade of a towering, soot blackened oak tree. Watching. Listening. Quietly waiting.

But nobody came.

Next morning it was Sarah who took the stairs four steps at a time.

"What, Tom? What is it?" she pleaded, trying to catch her breath as they ascended towards Tom's bedroom. He didn't answer. Without a word he took his friend's hand in his. Sarah's heart skipped a beat, as she tried her best to now battle the blood flooding to her cheeks. Tom, however, noticed nothing, nor did he slow down. He was on a mission. Upon entering his room, he arranged her into surveillance position against the far wall. Sarah's eyes drifted across the room, curiously. Nothing looked different.

"Is it the fox cub, Tom? Did he come back?" she asked, a hint of excitement in her voice.

Tom couldn't hold back a chuckle. "No, Sarah. It isn't the fox cub. Something better."

Lifting the tanks remote control from his desk, Tom shuffled beside his friend.

"Just watch and believe it." he whispered to her.

With a racing heart, Sarah watched as Tom started the tank forward. Working it skilfully towards the red taped cross that now marked the point in the skirting where it had vanished yesterday. Tom's heart was pounding in his chest.

"The tank," Sarah sighed. "I've seen it before."

Another urge to laugh, stifled.

"Not that, Sarah. Believe me. Not that."

Five feet away and the tank surged on, fresh batteries from his aunt's radio carrying it fast. At four feet Sarah wiped sleep from her eyes and noticed, for the first time, the red cross taped on the skirting.