The Last Portal (2 page)

‘I want you all
to draw the insects in the jars on the sheets of paper provided,’
he went on, in his usual monotone drawl.

Looks of
disgust and horror spread across the students’ faces as they
realised the spiky objects were actually cockroaches.

‘The
cockroaches have been preserved in alcohol. I would like you each
to take one using the tweezers provided, not your fingers.’ He
scowled at Jeff, who was already flicking the liquid contents of a
bottle at some girls. ‘Follow the instructions for dissection. The
worksheets on each bench explain what I want you to do. Hurry up,’
he added, ‘there’s a lot to do this afternoon.’

‘Cockroach
dissection, just what I feel like after lunch,’ Joe sighed.

The feeling was
echoed in collective moans around the class. They looked just like
the monstrous black cockroaches that Chris regularly saw scuttling
around the school. He had visions of Mr Kennel creeping around the
school late at night, armed with a net and a bottle of alcohol.

A bench further
back, Jeff and his friends were already in their usual spot. Amid
giggles and muffled screams, Jeff was threatening to drop a
cockroach down Cathy’s top. When he saw Chris, he whispered
something to Cathy and they both burst out laughing. Chris tried
his best not to notice, although every giggle and whisper felt like
a gun aimed at the back of his head. Susie had already taken out
her cockroach, and dropped it on the floor. She was now bending
over awkwardly to pick it up with a pair of tweezers. Chris got a
view of a pair of long, white legs and bony arms plucking away at
an upturned cockroach. After several attempts, she managed to lift
it halfway to the bench before it fell back to the floor. Susie was
left holding a black, hairy cockroach leg firmly grasped in the
prongs of her tweezers. An immediate burst of laughter erupted from
the bench behind. Cathy was leaning over the bench, her hand held
over her mouth as she giggled.

‘You’re such an
unco,’ Jeff smirked, casually leaning over next to Cathy.

Susie went
slightly pink. ‘If you’ve got nothing intelligent to say, just
don’t talk.’

‘But you’re
such a rich source of entertainment,’ Cathy said. ‘No one in school
is as hopeless at sport and spends her whole time buried in nature
books and lecturing everyone on the environment. You’re an unco,
nerd.’

Jeff burst into
laughter again as Susie went bright red.

‘Well, I prefer
to read books than spend my whole time making stupid comments and
giggling like a six year old,’ she counted.

Cathy’s
response to Susie was something resembling a snarl of a dog
accompanied by a rude hand gesture. Chris could never work out why
they hated each other so much. Only last year, Susie and Cathy had
been best friends. They were always around each other’s places. But
then they had argued. Chris wasn’t really sure what it was about.
Something to do with Susie losing some of Cathy’s textbooks, he
thought, although it seemed a really silly reason for breaking up a
friendship. Since then, Cathy had refused to speak to Susie and had
gravitated to Jeff’s group. Now they couldn’t stand each other.

Chris noticed
Mr Kennel, now at the front desk, lean over a thick textbook and
attempt to lift it from the desk. The book, however, seemed to have
a mind of its own, and wouldn’t budge. His face went from confusion
to annoyance. Then, with a loud ripping sound, the book gave way
and Mr Kennel nearly toppled backward on to the floor.

There was an
immediate burst of laughter from behind Chris. When he turned
around, Jeff and Cathy were prodding each other in their sides and
sniggering. Mr Kennel held the textbook in his hand, now ripped in
half, the bottom part still firmly attached to the desk.

‘Superglue!’ Mr
Kennel’s already pink cheeks went a deep red.

‘Who did this?’
He strode to the front of the class and slammed the torn book on a
bench. ‘This isn’t funny!’

The class went
silent.

‘Jeff Wilock,’
Mr Kennel called. ‘What are you laughing at?’

‘Arr…nothing.’

‘Nothing? You
think this is nothing?’

‘Arr… I wasn’t
laughing at your book. Cathy just told me a funny joke.’

Mr Kennel
continued to stare coldly at Jeff for some moments. Chris knew what
he was thinking. The likelihood that Jeff was involved was almost
certain. But he hadn’t a shred of evidence to prove it.

‘Right.’ Mr
Kennel stood directly in front of the class. ‘I want everyone to
close their books and sit with their eyes directly in front of
them. No one will say or do anything until the class is
finished.’

The remainder
of the period was spent in complete silence while Mr Kennel roamed
the benches much like an enraged bull. At the end of the lesson he
gave everyone the extra homework of copying out the section of the
practical that was supposed to be covered in class.

After school
Chris, Joe and Susie gathered to walk home. Chris could see Jeff in
a corner of the playground amongst his friends, in full animation,
describing his latest exploit.

‘That was so
cruel,’ Susie said, also watching Jeff.

‘Yeah, but it
was funny,’ Joe said.

‘Not really,’
Susie replied, ‘since we’ve all been given at least an hour’s extra
homework.’

Chris watched
Jeff, now impersonating Mr Kennel trying to pull the book off the
desk. A small group of his devoted followers were trying their best
to outdo each other laughing at his antics. He turned away in
disgust.

That night, Chris had
one of his strange dreams. He was walking down a narrow lane close
to his house. It was night, but part of the sky still had a blue
tinge, as though the sun had only just set. He was dressed in his
school clothes and still had his school bag slung over his
shoulder. Someone or something was following him, but there were no
footsteps or sounds of any kind, only the feeling of a presence.
Each time he turned to face whatever it was, there was nothing, no
sound, except the rise and fall of the wind whistling in the
overhead wires.

When he walked
on again, the sense of something closing in on him became stronger.
The urge to break into a sprint became almost overpowering. He
quickened his pace, then moved into a jog, switching between
laneways in an attempt to lose an invisible pursuer. His heart
began to pound in his chest and his breath became laboured, but the
presence never faded. It was always there, just behind, never seen.
Eventually, the laneway ended in a high fence, bent over at the top
with razor wire. All around him were brick walls with no street
lights to fend off the gathering night. He was trapped, with the
feeling of the presence closing in through the darkness.

Chris woke up
with a start. He’d been having dreams like this for weeks, always
being followed but never able to see his pursuer, only the scenery
in each dream changed. His bedside clock read 8:10. The bus would
leave for school in fifteen minutes. He shot out of bed, threw on
his clothes, grabbed his schoolbag and tore down the stairs.

Chris’s little
sister, Fiona, was sitting at the kitchen table, lazily smearing
large chunks of strawberry jam on her toast. She looked different
today; her hair was neatly pinned back into two tight little
plaits. Chris concluded that his mother must have attacked her hair
before breakfast.

Fiona looked
across the table at him and frowned. ‘You’ve missed the bus again.
Now you’ll have to walk all the way to school.’ She flicked back a
long strand of brown hair that his mother must have missed and gave
him a big beaming smile.

Fiona was a
year younger than him and still in primary school, and her bus
followed a different route so she didn't have to leave until half
an hour later, something she always liked to point out when Chris
was late.

‘I’m still
good,’ Chris grinned back.

Fiona fluttered
her eyes at him. ‘I don’t think so.’

Chris leaned
across and snatched her toast, grabbed his school bag, then ran out
of the house. He could hear Fiona shouting abuse at him as he
sprinted up the front path, and his mother telling his sister off
for yelling.

The bus drove
off just as he reached the bus stop. Chris could see Joe and Susie
waving merrily from the back.

Even if he ran
all the way, he would never reach the school before classes
started. This meant automatic detention if he didn’t have a note
from his parents. He thought briefly about writing one, but knew he
could never forge his mother’s ridiculously complicated signature.
Besides, after yesterday’s incident, he felt less inclined to serve
as another day’s entertainment for Jeff. He looked up at the sky.
It was brilliant blue and the sun was warm and inviting. He took
off his jumper and tied it around his waist. He was in no hurry. If
he was going to get detention for being late, he may as well give
them a good reason for it.

A short
distance away the road dipped sharply into a forest, nestled in the
crease of a valley. At the valley’s lowest point, a creek gurgled
under an old wooden bridge. Chris ran down to the bridge and leaned
over the railing. Autumn rains had swelled the normal trickle of
water into a swiftly moving torrent. Plastic bags, cartons and
aluminium cans marked the highest point of the recent rains. In one
of the rock pools he noticed something reflecting the sunlight and
climbed down to investigate. Unfortunately, it wasn’t money, as he
had hoped, but some type of key. He picked it up and turned it over
in his hand. Its shape was odd. Instead of being flat, like normal
keys, one end was splayed out at right angles in four different
directions, as though it fitted some type of three-dimensional
lock. It looked like metal, but had almost no weight. He tried
bending it without success, then he noticed the colour change;
first to pink, then dull red, finally ending up bright red. Some
type of electronic device possibly, he pondered. He was just
deciding whether to keep it, or throw it away, when some movement
on the bridge caught his attention, but when he looked up there was
nothing. Yet he felt there was something there, a presence. For a
moment he struggled to pull the feeling from the back of his
conscious mind. Then he remembered; the same presence was also in
his dreams. With a growing sense of unease, he pocketed the key and
took off at a slow jog.

He arrived at
school only to be met by Mrs Wright, the History teacher, who
seemed to take particular delight in prowling around the school
entrances and catching straggling students. Chris had recognised
her bullfrog face thrust out of the front gate some distance away.
She bellowed out his name from the gate, and then cheerfully marked
him down for Friday detention.

The rest of the
day went routinely enough. Jeff pushed Joe down some stairs and
into the Geography teacher. Susie, who was always losing her
things, lost her English book, but found a Maths book from last
year which belonged to Cathy, who didn’t appreciate getting it
back. It wasn’t until late afternoon, when he was walking home with
Susie and Joe, that Chris remembered the key. He placed it on a
fence post in front of Joe and Susie. As he anticipated, it changed
from red to a metallic grey in front of their eyes.

‘Cool.’ Joe
snatched it up, his face breaking out into a smile when the key
changed to blue in his hand.

When Susie took
the key, it changed to bright yellow. ‘Where did you get this?’ she
asked.

‘I found it in
a rock pool.’

She held it up
and inspected it for a hidden battery compartment. ‘Must be some
new kind of gadget. Does it change colour every time it’s
touched?’

‘I’m not sure,’
Chris replied.

Chris took the
key and immediately it changed back to red. ‘No, it seems to change
to a certain colour depending on who’s touching it.’

‘How’s it
powered?’ Susie asked.

Chris shrugged.
‘No idea.’

‘I know,’ Joe
said. ‘It’s solar powered.’

‘If the key was
solar powered it would become dull if I covered it with my hand,’
Susie said, flicking a condescending glance at Joe, ‘which it
doesn’t.’

‘Well, it’s
probably got a battery then.’

‘There’s no
room for a battery,’ Susie went on. ‘Besides a battery would make
it heavy and it barely weighs anything.’

Chris couldn’t
help smiling. Susie was the smartest person he knew. She always
came top in Science and spent much of her free time caring for
animals. Over the years she had cared for everything from rabbits,
guinea pigs, frogs, ferrets, two cats, three dogs; even salamanders
and goldfish, until they ate all her tadpoles and she had to get
rid of them. And she was forever taking home birds with broken
wings, lizards, sick native animals that she would nurse back to
health and then release back into the wild.

Her ability to
learn languages was also uncanny. She even studied French and
Italian as an extra-curriculum activity. None of which made her
popular, of course. She was considered a nerd and avoided by most
of the year - boys and girls alike. But she fitted in perfectly
with Joe and himself. All three would rather read a book than play
sports. And Joe and he had other oddities that made them unpopular.
Apart from being overweight, Joe smelt funny and had a habit of
saying the wrong things to the wrong people. And as for himself,
well, he was just considered a weirdo. Not in the sense of
knowledge, like Susie, he just sensed things, knew what people were
thinking. It freaked people out. Over the years he had learnt to
hide this part of himself. But his funny looks and mannerisms still
set him apart. It was only with Susie and Joe that he could be
himself. Their combined weirdness made them great friends.

Susie threw the
key high into the air. As it left her hand it changed to grey.
Remained grey, after she dropped it, then reverted back to yellow
when she picking it up off the ground.