Barrier

Chapter 8: Noah

There is a tree about a mile away from our school, where we waited whenever Mum didn’t arrive in time to collect us. We pretended we were supposed to walk home on those days, mentioning a fictitious relative living in the general area. We never tried to pretend we were walking to our house, because they probably had records somewhere to remind them that we lived at least twenty miles away.

What we really did was this. Emmy would come and get me - she always seemed to have predicted when Mum would forget us - and we’d wait around the school gates until the last children left. Then carefully, carefully - never mind that we had an alibi, it was still good to be cautious - we’d walk around the corner and change out of our uniforms into more normal clothes.

                                       

I’ll never forget the times I forgot the spare clothes and Emmy spent the wait hissing that I was going to get her in trouble. That was the last thing I wanted to happen, but I witnessed the dejected, angry look on Emmy’s face those nights and knew it had. I was more careful from then on.

We could usually walk slowly enough to ensure that at least twenty minutes had passed by the time we reached the tree where we’d meet our mother. That hour was one of my favourite parts of the day, even with all the precautions we were warned to take. After the walk we slipped behind a bank and raced each other to the tree.

It was perfect for climbing, to our endless delight. There was a pliant branch at knee level that acted as a springboard, letting us get straight up to the higher parts of the tree if we could swing our legs up fast enough. Then there was the centre, where four thick limbs converged to make what we called our control room. But our favourite part, the part we always fought over, was the seat. There were five long branches naturally arranged to make a throne - one to sit on, one to lean your back on, one for each arm and a support where Emmy liked to put her notebooks and I used to hold snacks.  

The unfortunate one without the throne - generally me - either stood hanging from the nearest point where branches connected or leaned out of the smaller seat, nothing more than two branches aligned enough to make a back support. We often sat in silence, but sometimes Emmy told me about her latest mad idea and I offered praise and criticism. We both liked debate, even over the silliest things. And I think I was a worthy opponent.

Because she could’ve used anyone else, but it was me whose days were filled with her voice. I wouldn’t have given that up for all the equal playing ground in the world.

We always had to be out of the tree before Mum arrived. This was a difficult feat, because her timing was wildly unpredictable and getting out of that tree, wonderful as it was, wasn’t easy. But somehow we managed to be standing in the agreed spot, having inspected each other’s clothes and hair for loose leaves and twigs as if nothing had happened.

It seemed Lou and Alice hadn’t mastered that skill yet.

I found them in our tree towards the end of the lunch hour, dangling from places on the tree that Emmy and I had never noticed. How did we not run into them before? As I neared, Lou hurriedly swung around and jumped lightly to the springy grass, closely followed by Alice. There were covered in scraps of bark and other debris I couldn’t identify at a glance. That wasn’t what I was here for anyway.

To tell the truth, I wasn’t here to see them. I’d given up searching for them, given up on a lot of things really, and come down here for some peace and quiet. The school wouldn’t care, it was lunchtime.

Even with the amount of time I’d spent looking for them, I was suddenly hesitant to talk. What if they took it the wrong way? What if they didn’t understand at all? I hoped Saoirse was friends with them for a reason.

‘Where’s Saoirse?’ I said, looking more at the tree than at them.

Alice shrugged, seeming unperturbed. ‘She might be sick. Don’t know. Haven’t heard anything from her.’

‘Isn’t it a bit odd for her to be out of school?’

‘She leaves school all the time.’ Alice said.

‘Not like this,’ I said.

She didn’t look happy. ‘Why do you care? Do you love her?’

My hands balled into fists of their own accord. ‘I’m allowed care about someone without this turning into some stupid thing you find funny! Look, she hasn’t answered her pad and I can’t get around to her house, it’s too far. I know you live near her, do you think you could check there?’

‘Fine. Lou!’ Lou had wandered off but quickly came running over, bringing a smug smile to her face. ‘What time is it? Has lunch ended yet?’ She was practically nudging him, so heavy were her undertones. We’re leaving.

He twisted his arm in her direction. Superimposed on it were flashing digits. Alice was visibly relieved when we saw the time. Late. She gave me a cheery wave, already starting to walk away. ‘I’ll do it, Noah Westwood, but I hope you appreciate it!’

Were these really the lengths I had to go to? I started to trudge back to school, late for afternoon class and sure to be detained for questions. I hoped Mum wouldn’t get wind of this. Then again, I didn’t really care.