Tunnels

part of the notebook where there were only the tagged stub of missing pages. 'These have been torn out!'

He thumbed through a few more pages to the final entry. Chester saw him hesitate.

'See the date,' Will said.

'Where?' Chester leaned in.

'It's from last Wednesday… the day he had the fight with Mum,' Will said in a quiet voice, then took a deep breath and read aloud:

Tonight's the night. I have found a way in. If this is what I think it is, my hypothesis, wild as it may seem, will be proved correct. This could be it! My chance, my last chance to make my mark. My moment! I have to follow my instincts. I have to go down there. I have to go through.

'I don't understand—' Chester began.

Will held up his hand to silence his friend and continued:

It could be dangerous, but it's something I have to do. I have to show them — if my theory is right, they'll see! They'll have to. I am not just a bumbling curator.

And then Will read the final sentence, which was underscored several times.

I will be remembered!

'Wow!' Will exclaimed, sitting back in the damp armchair. 'This is incredible.'

'Yes,' Chester agreed somewhat halfheartedly. He was beginning to think that Will's father had perhaps not been completely sane. It sounded to him suspiciously like the ramblings of someone who was losing it, big- time.

'So what was he onto? What was this theory he was talking about?' Will said, flipping back to the ripped-out pages. 'I'll bet this is where it was. He didn't want anyone to steal his ideas.' Will was buzzing now.

'Yes, but where do you think he's actually gone?' Chester asked. 'What does he mean by go through, Will?'

This took the wind out of Will's sails. He looked blankly at Chester.

'Well,' he began slowly, 'two things have been bugging me. First is, I saw him working on something at home very early one morning — 'bout two weeks before he disappeared. I figured he was digging on the Common… but that doesn't stack up.'

'Why?'

'Well, when I saw him, I'm sure he was pushing a barrowload of spoil to the Common, not away from it. Second thing is, I cant find his overalls or hard hat anywhere.'

13

'Oi, Snowflake, I hear you old man's done a runner,' a voice shouted at Will as soon as he entered the classroom. There was an immediate hush as everyone turned to look at Will, who, gritting his teeth, sat down at his desk and started to take books out of his bag.

It was Speed, a vicious, skinny kid with greasy black hair who was the self-appointed leader of a gang of similarly unpleasant characters.

'Can't blame him, can you? Probably got sick of you!' Speed sneered, his voice dripping with derision.

Hunched doggedly over his desk, Will did his best to pretend he was searching for a page in his textbook.

'Sick of his freak of a son!' Speed shouted, in that horribly guttural yet slightly squeaky way that only someone whose voice is in the process of breaking can do.

The fury welled up inside Will. His pulse raced and his face felt hot; he hated that it would be betraying his anger. As he remained with his eyes fixed steadfastly on the absolutely meaningless page before him, he experienced, just for a fraction of a second, a moment of incredible self-doubt and guilt. Maybe Speed was right. Maybe it was his fault. Maybe he was partly to blame for his father's departure.

He dismissed the thought almost immediately, telling himself that it couldn't have been because of him. Whatever the reason, his father wouldn't have just walked out. It must have been something serious… something deadly serious.

'And totally over you mental mum!' Speed bawled on even more loudly. At this, Will heard gasps and the random giggle around him in the otherwise completely silent classroom. So it was already general knowledge about his mother…

Will gripped his textbook with such force that the cover was beginning to buckle. He still didn't look up, but he shook his head slowly. This was only going one way… He didn't want to fight, but the little creep was pushing it too far. It was a matter of pride now.

'Hey, Vanilla Ice, I'm talking to you! Are you or are you not fatherless? Are you or are you not a b—'

That did it! Will suddenly stood up, sending his chair shooting back. It scraped across the wooden floor and then toppled over. He locked eyes with Speed, who also rose from his desk, his face contorted with spiteful relish as he realized he'd hit the bull's-eye with his gibes. Simultaneously three of Speed's gang leaped excitedly out of their chairs with predatory glee.

'Has Snow White had enough?' Speed sneered, moving with a swagger between the desks toward Will, his cackling entourage in tow.

Reaching Will, Speed stood close to him, his fists clenched by his sides. Although Will wanted to take a step back, he knew he had to stand his ground.

Speed pushed his face even closer, so that it was inches away from Will's, then arched his back like a second-rate boxer. 'Well… have… you?' he said, emphasizing each word with a finger jab at Will's chest.

'Leave him alone. We've all had enough of you.' Chester 's imposing bulk suddenly moved into view as he positioned himself behind Will.

Speed glanced uneasily at him, then back at Will.

Aware the whole class was watching him, and that he was expected to make the next move, Speed could only think of hissing dismissively through his teeth. It was a lame attempt to save his pride, and everyone knew it.

Fortunately at that very moment the teacher entered and, realizing what was afoot, cleared his throat loudly to let them know he was in the room. It did nothing to deflate the standoff between Will, Chester, and Speed, and he had to march over and order them in no uncertain terms to sit down.

Will and Chester took their places and, after a few seconds, Speed and his followers skulked back to their desks, too. Will leaned back in his chair and smiled at Chester. Chester was a true friend.

* * * * *

Returning from school later that day, Will stole into the house, taking pains not to alert his sister that he was home. Before he opened the cellar door, he paused in the hallway to listen. He heard the strains of 'You Are My Sunshine': Rebecca was singing to herself as she did the housework upstairs. He quickly descended into the cellar and unbolted the door to the garden, where Chester was waiting.

'Are you sure it's all right for me to be here?' he asked. 'Feels sort of… well… wrong.'

'Don't be stupid, course it is,' Will insisted. 'Now, let's see what we can find in here.'

They searched through everything stored on the shelves and then in the archive boxes that Will had already made a start on the last time. Their efforts were fruitless.

'Well, that was a complete waste of time,' Will said despondently.

'So where d'you think the dirt came from?' Chester asked, going over to the wheelbarrow to examine it