Free State of Grace by Hilary Badger Page A

starfish pose, arms and legs pointing outwards.
    I open my eyes and I can see the ledge Blaze wanted me to climb to, jutting out from the rocky wall of the escarpment. Above the ledge, the escarpment goes higher and higher and that starts me wondering. If Blaze thought I could climb to the ledge, then maybe I could climb to the very top. From up there I could see the whole of creation.
    Floating under the great big velvety dome of the sky, the idea of seeing Dot’s brilliance laid out in front of me makes me feel so happy. I can’t help wondering why Dot doesn’t want us to climb the escarpment so we could see all creation for ourselves.
    Then I remember. I know why. It’d be presafe to climb so high and Dot only wants to protect us. She knows what’s best for us. That’s what I’m busy telling myself when I first hear the noise.
    I plant my feet on the bottom of the lagoon and stand waist-deep in water, listening. The sound has stopped, but I know I heard something. I definitely did, and I’m pretty sure it was coming from the trees around the lagoon. I look up, figuring I’ll see a monkey springing from branch to branch, or an owl with those big glossy round eyes or whatever. But there’s nothing apart from a bunch of leaves shivering in the night air.
    Diving under the water, I start convincing myself I imagined the noise. It could happen. I mean, I’d have to say my head’s not in the clearest state in all creation right at this moment. But when I pop up and look back to the trees, I see a flash of movement. I swear it. An arm pokes through the leaves of an avocado tree, then straightaway disappears.
    ‘Gil?’
    I have no clue why I think it’s going to be him. I can’t even work out if I hope it is or I wish it isn’t.
    Whatever, because there’s no reply anyway. Nothing. If this is a joke, it’s kind of prefunny. Whoever’s playing it really should be owning up by now. That’s pretty much the whole definition of a joke. When it’s not funny, it’s not a joke anymore, right?
    ‘Brook? Blaze? Hello? I saw you, you know.’
    I haul myself over the edge of the lagoon and onto the cool, flat rocks. It’s kind of difficult and I work out that’s because my arms have started shaking.
    ‘I’m getting out,’ I say. Completely pointless really, since whoever’s in the trees can obviously see every single thing I’m doing.
    ‘I’m coming over.’
    Water rolls down my skin, leaving a trail of droplets behind me as I walk towards the trees. Straightaway I see something. Well, some one really. A person.
    Suddenly I remember the word. A boy .
    The boy is crouched behind the avocado tree. His face is round and open and shiny with sweat. His hair is short and cloudy soft. And he’s way smaller than anyone else in creation. Not much bigger than Julius , I think. Except Julius is only an image in my head whereas this boy is right here in front of me.
    The boy stands up, staring, looking away, staring again, and the whole time he’s got this tiny little smile on his face. Smiling to himself – not to me, if you get what I mean.
    I think my mouth is hanging open, I don’t know. Absolutely for sure my cheeks and tongue are all numb.
    ‘Nathan’s never going to believe this.’
    The boy is pretty happy, I can tell. ‘You really don’t wear any clothes.’
    I say, ‘Come here.’
    If I touch him, I’ll see my hand pass through him. Then I’ll know he isn’t real. I mean, of course he isn’t. This must be part of Dot’s test. Another phase or something. She’s realised the images in my head are never going to shake my faith. So now I guess she’s wondering what I’d do if someone new, someone who shouldn’t exist, appeared right in front of me.
    Then something forces its way out of the boy’s mouth. A bubble, melon-sized. It’s like the gazebo bubbles except it’s purple and smells of … of … I know the smell. I know the name.
    Bubblegum .
    The boy’s feet are encased in fat, white things.