Free The Year My Life Broke by John Marsden Page B

especially in the lungs. I wanted to do something brave, something heroic, because I knew he must be there for a bad reason, but I couldn’t move.
    When I took my next breath, which could have been two minutes later, my mind slowly started working again too. As far as I could tell the man hadn’t moved. I eased myself out of bed, shivering as soon as my feet touched the floor. It wasn’t a very warm night, but I felt like I was in an igloo at the South Pole. I tiptoed out of my room and ran like a fox down the corridor to my parents’ room. I raced to Dad’s side of the bed and shook him by the shoulder.
    â€˜Dad! Dad! Wake up.’
    â€˜Grmph, hurrumph grrr whaddya want? Go away.’ Then suddenly he was awake. ‘Josh! What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?’
    â€˜No, Dad, there’s a man in our garden. I think he’s watching the place next door.’
    â€˜You sure?’ But already he was getting out of bed, much faster than I had. He went into the kitchen, towards the window, me following, but he stopped at a safe distance. ‘Where exactly did you see him?’ he whispered.
    â€˜Under the tree house.’
    â€˜Can’t see anything. Wait a minute, they gave me a number.’
    He went to the fridge, and felt around for something. The light was about the same as in my bedroom.
    â€˜Got it,’ he said. ‘Come on.’
    We went down the corridor to the phone. He lifted it like it was a hand grenade, but he was just trying to be super-quiet. Mum came out of their room.
    â€˜What’s going on?’
    â€˜Josh thinks he saw a man in our backyard, watching the place next door.’
    â€˜I did see him,’ I said, a bit indignant. We were talking in whispers, and my dad was pressing the numbers on the phone, but I think he got the wrong ones, because he muttered, ‘Bugger,’ and started again. This time it seemed to work. He only had to wait a moment and someone answered. I was surprised that it was so quick, in the middle of the night. I could hear the voice clearly; it was a man.
    â€˜Sergeant Munro.’
    â€˜It’s Cameron Smith, from next door. My son is pretty sure he just saw someone in our backyard, watching the house . . . your place.’
    There was no answer. It sounded like the phone had been put down. I could hear some people murmuring, then suddenly the sergeant was back on the line. This time he sounded like he was whispering too, but he had a big hoarse voice so it was a pretty loud whisper.
    â€˜Dial triple-O for us, would you, mate? Just tell them the address and what your boy saw.’
    Then the phone was hung up.
    My dad was starting to shake now. He looked like he did the night we found out we’d lost all our money. Something in Sergeant Munro’s voice was pretty scary. Me, I’d been shaking for about four minutes. Plus I had an extra worry all to myself. What if I’d been wrong? What if I’d imagined it? I was causing a major crisis here, and it might just have been me having a bad dream.
    My father rang triple-O and asked for the police. When a woman answered he said as fast as he could: ‘My name’s Cameron Smith; I live at 22 Brisbane Street, Tarrawagga, and I’ve been asked by Sergeant Munro to call you and tell you there’s a problem at number 24.’
    â€˜So, number 24 Brisbane Street? Sergeant Munro? Just a sec.’
    It took way, way long before she came back on again. Must have been at least thirty seconds.
    â€˜What sort of problem?’ I could hear her say.
    â€˜We’ve seen a man in our backyard, watching the place.’
    â€˜Just a minute.’
    I was grateful to my father for saying that ‘we’ had seen a man. It was like we were in this together.
    We stood waiting for the woman on the phone again. I felt so helpless. Mum put her arm around me. A moment later there was a sound like a firecracker going off, except it was louder. It