Corvan jolted awake, gasping as if he'd been trapped underwater. Once again, the nightmare monster had pursued him relentlessly through the maze of dark caves; the fierce hatred in its eyes drawing ever closer.

  Rolling over, he gazed up at the familiar cracks in the plaster overhead. Even though his grandfather had vanished when Corvan was a young child, he retained a distinct memory of lying here beside him, staring at the same cracks, and listening to tales of monsters and caves. That was almost thirteen years ago so why had the nightmare version of his grandfather’s stories come to haunt his dreams now?

  Swinging his shaky legs out of bed, he crossed to the window, sat on the wide sill, and leaned against the jamb. A cool breeze, fresh with the scent of approaching rain caressed the tips of the aspen trees that bordered his back yard. Beyond the trees a breeze was stirring his family’s crop of ripening wheat into waves that swept inward to run ashore against a massive mound of granite—his favorite place in the entire world. The rounded sides of Castle Rock climbed thirty feet above the sea of grain smooth arc to the ring of boulders crowning the summit. From his bedroom window, the protective circle of stones looked like the beginnings of another Stonehenge or the ruins of an ancient island citadel.

  The canvas roof of his wooden fort was visible just over the ring of boulders, his personal fortress of solitude, a refuge from the realities of a convoluted life. Unfortunately, unlike his comic book hero, his hideaway was within earshot of his mother’s call from the back porch.

  Tipping his head against the window frame he watched the sunrise slip its slender pink across the sky to celebrate the start of a new day, another step closer to his fifteenth birthday, the day when his father said he would come of age and become an adult member of the family. His growing anxiety about that upcoming event was likely what was bringing on the frightening dreams.

  The whistle of the kettle in the kitchen below his room interrupted his thoughts. Corvan sighed. He would rather go back to bed and face the nightmare than get ready for another day of school. At least with the monster, he would eventually wake up and the fear would fade. In real life, at least for the past year, his problems at home and at school clung to him like burrs on his woolen socks.

  “Corvan!”

  Whirling about, he found his mother standing in his doorway, her blonde hair pressed up against the unusually short door frame.

  “Didn’t you hear me call you down to breakfast?”

  “I was sleeping.”

  “I heard you holler,” she said, with a frown.

  “I must have been dreaming,” he said as he pulled on his patched jeans.

  “No doubt you were.” She stepped through the doorway, then straightened to her full height. “I met Miss Thompson at the store yesterday.”

  Corvan’s heart dropped at the mention of his teacher.

  “She says you’ve been coming late to school since the new year started. I told her you must be dawdling on the way. You certainly leave home in plenty of time.”

  Corvan tugged his threadbare T-shirt over his head. He didn’t want her to see the guilt written across his face. The truth was, he wanted to be late for school—for the rest of the year if need be. His head poked out as the horn of their truck honked twice in the driveway.

  “We’ll talk about this later. Your father has been called to a meeting at the mine, and I’m going along to sell my cider at the farmer’s market.” She shot a warning look his way. “Be on time today.”

  She waited until he nodded, then retreated down the stairs.

  Corvan finished getting dressed, waiting until he heard the truck chug up their driveway before making his way to the kitchen. Wisps of steam rose lazily from the kettle’s spout and a pot of oatmeal sat on the counter next to the woodstove. With a heavy sigh, Corvan poked at the sticky lumps. For the last few months there had been no brown sugar and often they were out of milk. Unless the coal mine reopened soon, there wouldn’t be much of an improvement, and likely not before his birthday came around.

  A dog barked in the lane. Corvan snatched up his lunchbox and ran to the front door, eagerly hoping to see Kate coming down the lane, but there was only a mangy stray slinking through the trees along the dirt track. Crestfallen, he closed the door and headed up their driveway. Every morning since grade eight, when Kate and her mom had moved to town, Kate would pick him up on her way to school. She was the only person that tolerated his awkward attempts to relate to others and never made fun of him. This year however, before the first day of school, Kate had pinned a note to the wall of their fort informing him she wouldn’t be walking with him to school. She didn’t say why and so far, had refused to even speak with him in the playground; Kate could be so secretive and stubborn. Her distance made for a hard week and it was the main reason he was going late to school.

  The morning breeze had died down, and the dust from the passing of his dad’s truck hung over their tree-lined lane. A red-tailed hawk perched on the weathered gate post at the end of the lane followed his every move. The intense gaze reminded him of the bullies at school, always watching for an opportunity to swoop in and pick him to pieces. Corvan gritted his teeth. Each year he kept hoping for that elusive growth spurt but here he was, almost fifteen, and still one of the smallest boys in the class. The other kids joked that he was the model for the ninety-eight-pound weekly weakling in the comic book ads.

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  “Mind your own business,” he muttered at the hawk, then stooped to pluck a small stone from the driveway. He tossed it in the bird’s direction, but the dark eyes only blinked in disdain, before it rose into the air with its distinctive screech and soared along the road heading into town. Corvan ran his dusty hand over his crewcut hair as he trudged toward the school. If only he could fly away and go wherever he wanted.

  The sound of children playing grew louder as he poked his head around the final clump of saskatoon bushes. Stepping tentatively into the gate, he scanned the playground. Billy Fry was nowhere in sight, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Billy’s frequent truancy was one of the few things that made school days bearable. If Billy showed up, Corvan could count on being harassed the entire day.

  Checking the perimeter of the playground, he spied Kate sitting against the picket fence at the ball diamond. If he could speak with her and let her know about the tracks and what he had seen, maybe she would at least come over on the weekend and help him hunt for the elusive creature.

  Moving into the open, he stopped at the gate. If Kate refused to talk to him, it would make for another bad day at school. Come on, Corvan, he thought to himself, don’t be such a chicken. She can’t stay mad at you forever. Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and stepped through.

  Kate’s bangs hung over her eyes, and he didn’t think she’d even seen him until she jerked a thumb toward the boys’ outhouse. Billy must be inside. Corvan glanced across the playground to the school door. This time, rather than hiding out until after the bell rang, he could make a run for it. He would not only impress his teacher with his early arrival but also be safely inside—at least until recess.

  Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and walked nonchalantly across the playground. Kate and the others would be watching. He couldn’t let them think he was afraid.

  He was halfway across the schoolyard when the outhouse door sprang open, and Billy stepped into the sunlight, looping the strap of his patched coveralls over his broad shoulder. The large boy surveyed the playground like a hungry wolf searching for the weakest member of the herd. His eyes locked on Corvan, and a cruel grin spread over his face.

  Corvan froze and glanced at Kate. She remained in her place, biting her lower lip, and looking hard in the other direction. He didn’t expect her to always fight Billy for him, but her presence usually curbed the bully’s attacks. In fact, all the boys kept their distance from Kate’s lightning fists. Her slight frame hid a feisty fighter who could blacken an eye and get away before a larger opponent could even try to pin her down. If only he could be that brave.

  Not to be deprived of his prey, Billy lumbered over to Corvan, glanced at Kate, then dropped his voice to a menacing growl. “It’s good to see you on time today cause I gots something to tell ya.”

  “I’m all ears,” Corvan replied, attempting to disarm Billy with a grin.

  “I can see that.” Billy flicked the exposed lobe of Corvan’s left ear until he winced in pain. “The way these things stick out, you look like Dumbo.”

  As the only boy his age still sporting a crewcut, his ears did stick out, but according to some strange family tradition, he had to turn fifteen before he could grow it out. He tried to squirm free from the humiliation, but Billy stepped hard on his toes, pinning him to the ground and forcing him to look directly into the boy’s broad chest.

  Kate’s voice cut through the tense air. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?”

  Billy stepped away and turned to face her. Corvan was free to run away, but he couldn’t let Kate face Billy alone, especially now that the other children were running over to see what might happen next.

  “Didn’t ya notice, Kate? There is no one my size in our school,” Billy said with a sneer.

  He laughed over the heads of the gathering crowd, then looked at Corvan. “Maybe Corvan’s dad could fight me.” He spread his hands in pretend shock. “Oh, yeah, I forgot. Corvan’s dad is a shrimpy chicken too.” He took a measured step away from Kate. “And you don’t even have a dad.”

  The other children pulled nervously away from Kate. She squinted at Billy through her red bangs, her jaw working as she chewed the inside of her cheek.

  Billy’s self-satisfied smirk spread back across his face. He leaned in toward Kate and lowered his voice. “At least my dad knows how to make people mind. He told your mom if you start fights at school this year, there’s going to be a lot of trouble and she will lose her job.”

  Kates eyes flickered to Corvan, lingered momentarily, then she spun around and marched away.

  Billy watched her leave with a relieved smirk, then turned his attention to Corvan. “My dad says your kind don’t belong in our school. Everyone in town knows your dad’s a no-account half-breed that can’t even keep a job.”

  Corvan stared at the ground, his arms hanging limply at his sides. This was not the first time someone had talked about his father this way, even to his dad’s face but he had never seen his father defend himself. His dad told Corvan if he ignored the insults, people would eventually move on, but he knew his father was dead wrong. Ignoring the comments had only intensified the attacks, but he wasn’t going to bring it up again. His dad wouldn’t defend his son any more than he defended himself.

  The bell rang, and the other kids scampered around Corvan and Billy to beat each other into the building. He tried to follow, but Billy slapped an open hand the size of a baseball glove on Corvan’s forehead and shoved him to the ground. “Best just stay away from school, Dumbo, ‘cause you ain’t gonna like this one as long as I’m around.”

  Corvan got to his knees. Looking through Billy’s legs, he could see Kate watching from the school door, her fists tightly clenched.

  A plume of dust exploded in Corvan’s eyes as Billy’s heavy boot skimmed past his head. “Kate won’t be saving you no more, so quit lookin for her,” Billy hissed. The bell fell silent, and Billy’s footsteps faded toward the school.

  Corvan knelt and blinked repeatedly with his face down, allowing his eyes to water and rinse the dust away. Gritty tears slid down his cheeks as his eyes cleared. Oh great! Now the other kids would think he’d been crying. Grabbing the bottom edge of his t-shirt, he pulled it up to wipe his face clean. The hem tore apart.

  Getting to his feet, he poked a finger through the torn shirt, then slapped the dust off his pants. Now he looked the part of Billy’s taunts. He looked longingly toward the playground gate but that wouldn’t solve anything.

  His shoulders drooped as he trudged to the school building and slipped quietly through the door.