The Land of Dreams

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153 16 lance was slaving over a difficult math assignment he’d been given as homework. He was sitting in his room on the second floor, which had a view of a large section of downtown Duluth. A view he never bothered to stop and think about. That was just the way it looked from his window. Every day new ships would sail into town down there, and the old Aerial Bridge would be raised and lowered. It was a Saturday in September, his last year in high school, and he had pretty much made up his mind to become a policeman, like his dad. So he was trying his utmost to get the grades that were required for admittance to the police academy in Minneapolis. That was why he often stayed in his room to study on Saturday evenings, like he was doing now. He had no idea where his brother, who was two years younger, was at the moment. And he didn’t care. Andy had his own friends. Maybe they were over in Lester Park, on the outskirts of town, where the Lester River forms idyllic little pools and waterfalls. Lance didn’t know what they would be doing there. Maybe playing music on those big boom boxes of theirs. Andy and his friends could spend a whole evening sitting on benches in Leif Erikson Park, down by the lake, apparently doing nothing at all. Other times they played baseball in the schoolyard at Duluth Central, which was the high school both brothers attended. Lance could hear the sound of the TV from downstairs. His parents must be watching some boring sitcom. It was a typical Saturday night. So typical that he never would have remembered it if Vidar Sundstøl 154 everything normal hadn’t abruptly been shattered in the most violent manner. The sound of a car door, someone running across the gravel in front of the house. Before Inga had time to poke her head out in the hall to see who it was, the person had bounded up the stairs to the second floor in three or four strides. Lance got up. At that instant Matt Johnson, who was one of Andy’s friends, appeared in the doorway . He looked scared out of his wits. “You need to come,” he said. “Andy has totally flipped out!” “What do you mean?” asked Lance. But Matt just reached out toward Lance and gripped his arm so hard it hurt. “You need to come now!” he said, and started pulling him out of the room. Lance stuffed his feet in his running shoes and then followed Matt downstairs. Inga was standing in the hallway, staring at them with a worried expression. “What’s going on?” she asked. Matt, who was usually such a polite boy, again grabbed Lance by the arm and tried to drag him out the door before he had time to answer his mother’s question. “I don’t know,” said Lance. “Is it something to do with Andy?” she asked. “Has something happened to Andy?” “I don’t know!” Lance repeated. Matt had already yanked open the car door. He turned around and yelled, “Come on, for God’s sake!” Lance ran over to the car and jumped in the passenger seat. As they sped off, he saw Inga standing on the doorstep with one hand raised to her mouth. Afterward he could never recall what he was thinking as they drove much too fast through the streets on their way to the high school. Nor did he remember whether he and sixteen-year-old Matt Johnson exchanged any words, although Matt must have filled him in on the situation. Because what Lance did remember quite clearly was jumping out of the car and racing onto the big, blacktop area as he shouted his brother’s name. He could even remember the way his voice resonated in the deserted schoolyard. Over by the entrance to the toilets he caught sight of Clayton THE LAND OF DREAMS 155 Miller. He was on the ground, with his legs sticking out to the side, his back slumped. His long bangs hung down in his face. Lance could see that he was taking quick, shallow breaths, and he realized at once that the boy was injured. Andy was nowhere to be seen. Thin, black-haired Clayton Miller was the only person in...