SANDS OF DELUSION 

By Tessa Harvey

The children surged out of school, some moving quietly, most yelling and shouting, a brilliant stream of moving colour. Some headed for parent's cars or to the waiting buses.

    One of the bus drivers was playing "Pokarekare Ana," a poignant song from New Zealand. The music held Alice motionless. In her head, she moved to the beautiful tune, but it reminded her of her missing brother somehow. The driver glanced her way, but Alice waved No and the driver began to move away, trying to avoid the last flying boys on bikes, swooping like seagulls, rearing up on back wheels and thudding down again.

    Slowly the schoolyard emptied and Alice was left alone. She was not sure why she was waiting , but a Presence held her there. Gazing down the road, she waited, hand shielding her eyes from the bright glare of the westering sun.

    Then she saw a tiny form in the distance. Alice could tell it was a child, but she or he was moving very slowly and erratically, as though literally on his last legs.

    Alice hurried forward down the empty road. Despite the awkward gait of the child, there was something familiar about its movements.

    The boy - she saw now it was a boy wavered and paused. He glanced over his shoulder and Alice saw a third figure appear on the street. Even from a distance, this figure looked bleak and menacing. The boy gave a tiny cry and scurried away.

    Faster the little girl ran, faster and faster, closing the distance. The thin small boy fell into her arms. "Sissy, oh Sissy!" he cried and slumped forward. Frightened, she saw how pale he was, how scratched and bruised, blood oozing from his bare feet.

    The figure behind moved close. "Okay, kid," he growled, "he's mine. Go away or I'll take you too."