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| "Andy's Quest" |
| Copyright Francis Blow, 1996. |
| CHAPTER 1 |
| Andy was scared almost to death. It was for real. Someone was trying to kill him. |
| The day began with the alarm going off at six o'clock, as usual. He rolled off the thin mattress to his knees and straightened the torn blanket over the narrow bed. He pulled on his worn pants and shirt, washed his face, and went into the kitchen to start breakfast for his foster family. |
| At least he called them a foster family. They were not really fostering him, just giving him a place to sleep and his meals, in exchange for work. Naturally, they never gave him any money. A street kid had only so many options, especially if your real parents were in goal. Andy put on hot water, cooked bacon, eggs and toast, then set it all on the table by six thirty. |
| At six thirty five, Andy wondered what was keeping the Loomis's, so he knocked quietly on their bedroom door. There was no answer. |
| "Mr. Loomis!" He called. "Mrs. Loomis? Are you awake?" |
| Still no answer, so he knocked again, louder, and opened the door. The bed was empty, with the covers thrown back. Andy walked into the forbidden room and put his hand on the mattress. It was cold. No one had been in the bed for hours, but he had not heard them go out during the night. Puzzled, Andy returned to the kitchen and ate all of the cold breakfast. It was the best meal he had in days, even if the bacon tasted a little spicy. Usually he ate things like leftovers and bread that was too stale for their sandwiches, or fruit that was over ripe. |
| Defiantly, Andy even had a cup of coffee. He later made sure everything was washed up and put away. Andy was not worried about where the Loomis's might have gone. They never told him where they were going. It was strange, though, because they did tend to let him know if they would be eating some place else. |
| A sudden burning pain exploded in Andy's stomach, and he threw up all over the kitchen floor. While he was retching, his belly cramped and he ran for the toilet, but he did not make that either. |
| An hour later, the house was clean again, and the windows were open to clear the sickly smell out. Andy showered in the backyard as he usually did, ignoring the intermittant rain, and washed his clothes. All he had left to wear was the damp towel that he wrapped around his waist. The towel was the one luxury he owned; it had been a present from a mate at the shelter. Andy once wondered if Tony stole the towel, but that was long ago, and he needed the towel. |
| It started to rain, and Andy groaned. His shirt and pants would not get dry that day, and Mrs. Loomis always yelled at him if he did not wear proper clothes. Then Mr. Loomis might hit him, especially if Mr. Loomis had been drinking. |
| Maybe there was something in the bedroom that Andy could wear for a little while. If he could get to St. Vinnies, they might give him more clothes. Andy went to the clothes closet and searched for something that would fit him. There was not much. Mr. Loomis was tall, while Andy was small, even for a twelve year old. |
| Hang on, he thought, what day is it? |
| Andy looked at the TV programme. Today was Monday the twenty seventh of April. In another week, the fourth of May, he would be thirteen. A teenager! |
| Had he changed much? Andy stood in front of the big mirror and studied himself. Skinny, short, pale. Andy still looked like a little boy, with blond hair and grey eyes. It was as if he was almost worn away like an old pair of jeans, with no colour left in them. |
| Andy continued searching, but there was none of Mr. Loomis's clothes that would fit. In desperation, Andy looked at Mrs. Loomis's stuff. There was a plain flannelette shirt, which was not too big, but she had a fat bum, so he did not bother with her jeans. |
| Andy knew he would have the wear his shorts wet. It was raining on and off anyway, so he was bound to get wetter before he reached the main street. After a moment's thought, Andy put the woman's shirt back. Mrs. Loomis might miss it if she came back while he was still out. |
| He nearly reached the clothes line, when another cramp gripped his stomach. There was nothing left inside him to get rid of, but the pain went on. Andy doubled up in the rain, water running off him and saturating the towel around his narrow hips with mud. |
| Dressed in his dripping clothes, Andy knew better than to walk through the house. He went around the side, and glance at the front door to make sure it was still closed. Andy stopped in his tracks. |
| A wire went from the door knob to the fuse box, and another wire was connected to the metal shoe-scraper that was used as a door mat. Andy did not own shoes. If he turned the knob and stepped onto the mat, he would have been electrocuted. Had he come from inside, he would not have seen anything until it was too late. |
| He remembered the empty pain in his stomach. Had that been poison? All he had eaten since the leftovers from last night had been the bacon, eggs and toast. That breakfast was the only food no one else had eaten any part of, and the bacon did taste odd. |
| It had to be! Someone was trying to kill him! |
| Andy ran, his bare feet splashing water and mud against his legs. He got tired quickly, and his empty guts cramped again. He had no energy, yet he forced himself to keep going. Lots of traffic passed him on the roads. Cars occasionally threw up sprays of water, which no longer bothered him; Andy was as cold and wet as he would get. |
| It was no real surprise, when Andy got the the St. Vincents de Paul shop, that there was a sign on the locked door: "Closed due to illness". |
| Where else could he go? The old shelter had been closed for six months, because the government said there was no more money left. Andy knew he had to find food, and somewhere warm to get dry. Maybe the hospital would help, if he told them he had been poisoned? |
| It was a long walk to the hospital. Andy felt weaker and his head began to throb. Before he had gotten half way, Andy had to stop and sit, holding his aching head. The pain got so bad he could not see straight. |
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| Bright light blinded Andy when he opened his eyes. Where was he? With his hand shielding his eyes, Andy looked around him. Someone must have found him passed out on the footpath, and now he was in hospital, like he wanted. Most of the other beds had sleeping kids in them. A clock on the wall told Andy it was twenty past eleven. It was probably night time, though there were no windows to prove it. |
| Andy sat up. He felt better, and he was hungrier than usual. Maybe he could ask a nurse for something to eat? He eased himself out of bed. Andy held his hospital gown closed at the back, because it was only tied at his neck. He tip-toed into the corridor and followed the arrows to the nurses station. |
| As he peered around a corner, Andy froze. Talking to the night nurse was Mr. Loomis. What was he doing there? Was it Mr. Loomis who was trying to kill him? It had to be; maybe it was connected with some of those men who came at night to talk to Loomis about drugs and ripping off houses. |
| Andy turned and ran quietly along the carpeted corridors, until he found a fire exit. He threw his weight against the bar, pushed through into the stairwell and started down. Windows confirmed that it was night, and still raining. |
| Three flights down was the door to the outside. A sign told Andy that it was connected to the fire alarm. There was no other way out. Andy pushed it open. Sirens wailed throughout the building and grounds. |
| Andy ran through streaming rain, away from the light, and into darkness. He crashed into a chain-wire fence, and bounced onto his back to the wet, muddy grass. |
| He gasped, for the wind had been knocked out of him. It was too dark to see more than two or three metres. The fence was not too high to climb, but there was barbed wire at the top, leaning away from him. |
| Andy studied the fence. He could climb it, and when he reached the barbed wire, he could lay the sodden gown over the wire, so he would not get scratched to pieces. He took off the gown and draped it over his shoulder, so he would only need one hand to throw it across the barbed wire. The chain-wire hurt his toes, but he reached the top. |
| Andy meant to climb down the other side, taking the gown with him. His luck ran out all at once. His shin got caught against a bare barb, and in pulling away, Andy lost his grip and found himself falling head-first towards the ground.
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| Andy lay unmoving in deep mud. He had twisted his body during his short fall, so his shoulders and back hit first, instead of his head. In one way he was fortunate: Andy landed in a deep pool of soft mud which cushioned his fall, however, he was completely covered in muck. Andy waded through the waist deep gunk, away from the fence. |
| The bucketing, icy rain soon robbed him of what little covering the mud afforded him, and he was as bare as the day he had been born. Now, Andy truly owned nothing, except for his life and the bare glimmer of a hope that somewhere he could find warmth and food. |
| He walked. |
| Mud gave way to more solid footing, with scrub that scratched his bare legs. He felt the presence of trees, and put his hands up so as not to bump himself. His hands were hardly visible. |
| Noise. The sound of a car on wet bitumen. |
| Andy turned in that direction, detouring around trees, banging his bony shins against logs. He left the dark bush and saw the faint reflection of a wet road. Should he wait for a car? What would anyone do if they were waved down by a naked boy? They'd take him to the police or the hospital. Either way, Mr. Loomis would get him again. Would anyone take the word of a twelve year old over a grown-up? |
| Yeah, sure they would. |
| Andy crossed the road. He followed an old fence until he found a break, and went through. |
| Something low and made of smooth stone cracked against Andy's knee. After rubbing the injury, Andy put out his hand to see what he had crashed into. It was a slab of stone, with writing in it; a tombstone. Andy had found a cemetery. |
| Sometimes cemeteries had covered places where people could sit. If he could find such a place, Andy could wait out the rain. He wandered, searching, until he found what he was looking for. It was a kind of half open chapel. A low growl greeted Andy as he stepped in from the rain. |
| "Who's that?" He asked fearfully. |
| The growl became a whine. It was a dog. |
| "Here, fella. Come on, doggy. I won't hurt you. Where are you, boy?" A steady thumping directed Andy to a shaggy body connected to a wagging tail and a wet tongue. "Hi, fella! You're nice and warm. Would you mind if I slept next to you? I'm so cold!" Andy lay next to the big animal and stroked it; the dog licked his face in thanks. A few minutes later, both of them were fast asleep.
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| The cold and a growing light woke Andy. The dog was gone. Sunlight peeked over the horizon, where there was a strip of clear sky. Andy sat up, shivering. It was autumn, wet and cold. He was hungry, naked and totally alone. |
| He scratched himself. Andy realised he was not completely alone. The dog had left him with some companions after all. Fleas. |
| "Well, at least they can't hide in my clothes." Andy told himself. He walked around, to see which way was the best to go. As he walked, he picked off fleas and popped them with his finger and thumb nails. Andy was no stranger to fleas and other vermin. |
| There! A glimpse of white or light grey. Andy made towards the dimly seen colour, and saw a house. No one was about, and there were clothes on the line, water dripping off them, even though the rain had stopped. |
| "I'm sorry. I need these more than you." Andy whispered, when he had stolen a woolen jumper and a pair of pants that was two sizes too big. He had to hold the pants up, but at least he would not get arrested for indecent exposure. Andy could go among people again. |
| Where could he find food? Shops would not open for hours yet. There were few cars on the streets and no pedestrians. None of the houses he saw had milk cartons at their doors. Everyone bought milk in supermarkets these days. |
| Andy's stomach was a gnawing hole in his middle. He had to get food. Water was easy, with taps everywhere. |
| Maybe he would have to give himself up. |
| Andy thought about it. |
| "Never! I got this far okay. They would have killed me, but I beat their poison and traps. I should have frozen to death during the night, but now I've got warm clothes. I will find food! I can do anything, and nothing or nobody will stop me! I am going to be rich and I'll never be hungry or cold!" |
| Wandering through back streets, sometimes chased by dogs, Andy came across one yard that had a Macadamia tree with lots of nuts on the ground. He filled his pockets after splitting the green husks off the hard nuts. A few minutes later, he picked up a brick and sat on the gutter edge, cracking the incredibly hard shells and eating the white nutmeat. |
| It was unbelievably delicious. Andy could not crack the tough nuts fast enough to satisfy his watering mouth and growling stomach. Ten minutes later, every shred of nut eaten, Andy resumed his search for food. |
| At the back of a take-away restaurant, he was disappointed to find the rubbish bins were empty. The garbage truck had beaten him. He would do anything for someone's scraps! |
| A two metre length of frayed string, found lying on a foot path, became his belt. |
| People started leaving their homes. Newsagents opened for the early morning trade. Andy thought about shoplifting some chocolate bars, and his mouth watered at the idea. He knew it was too dangerous. The risk was too high, and he was sure there must be a better way to get food. He walked on, closer to the city. Maybe he would find a Salvation Army place, or maybe a delivery truck would crash and spill food everywhere! |
| Andy daydreamed, and his fantasy was so real, he thought he could smell fresh-baked bread. |
| It was real |
| There on the corner was a cake and bread shop. Andy ran up to its window, to stare inside at the old man and woman who were making dough into wonderful things. |
| The woman saw him and waved Andy away, but Andy could not bear to take his eyes off the trays of bread that came out of the ovens. |
| "Get away with you, boy!" The man ordered from the doorway. |
| "Please! I'm so hungry." Andy found himself saying. "Do you have any scraps or stale bread? I'm starving to death. Please!" |
| For a long moment the man peered into Andy's eyes. |
| "Stay here." He turned back inside the shop, grabbed a loaf of bread with sesame seeds on it, and tossed it to Andy. |
| "God bless you!" Andy said, clutching the loaf to his chest. Why did I say that? Andy wondered, There's no god. If there was a god, why would he do this to me? What have I ever done to anyone? |
| Andy turned his back on the shop and God. He bit into the bread, hardly chewing in his need to fill his stomach. Half the loaf was gone, swelling his belly; the remainder he stuffed into his jumper. |
| He had clothes and food, and now he needed to find a place to stay.
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| There were many places where a person could hide. The problem was, Andy could see most of them had signs that other people already claimed them. Andy walked into the city, up and down streets. He even found a few coins, which went into his pockets. |
| By afternoon, all his bread was eaten, and he still had nowhere to sleep. At least he was many kilometres from the Loomis's house. |
| Andy was trying to see into the window of a boarded up building, when he heard a car pull up behind him. He turned. There was a police car, with two police in it. The woman who was driving stuck her head out of the window. "Come here, boy. I'd like a word with you." |
| Andy ran. |
| The police car came after him. He could not escape the car, because none of the alleys were narrow enough to keep it out. After a few seconds, he heard the car stop, and doors slam, then running footsteps. They were chasing him on foot! |
| The police were gaining on Andy. There was nowhere to hide. |
| Andy dodged between slow moving traffic, but the police drew closer. He only had seconds of freedom left. |
| There had to be a way of escaping! |
| Andy saw a narrow space between two buildings, so he ran into it. |
| A dead end! |
| "We've got you now, kid!" The policeman called. "Joanne, get ready to grab him if he gets past me!" |
| Andy had three unbroken brick walls around him, piles of litter in the gutters and stormwater drain, and two police behind him. |
| Only four steps were between him and capture. |
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| Andy Index Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11 Ch 12 |
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