The Long Earth

kids, and spoke to them, some of them in the hospital, and every other kid talked about one particular kid who was calm, a hero, leading them to safety, like Moses – only he was called Joshua, not Moses.
    Joshua backed away from the cop.
    ‘You are Joshua, aren’t you? I can tell. You’re the one kid that isn’t dribbling vomit.’
    He said nothing.
    ‘They tell me Joshua saved them. They tell me he picked them up and carried them back home. You’re a regular catcher in the rye. You ever read that book? You should. Although maybe it’s banned in the Home. Yes, I know about the Home. But how did you do it, Joshua?’
    ‘I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m not a Problem,’ he said, backing further away.
    ‘I know you’re not a Problem. But you did something different. I just want to know what you did. Tell me, Joshua.’
    Joshua hated it when people kept repeating his name. It was what they did to calm you down when they thought you were a Problem. ‘I followed the instructions. That’s all. People don’t understand. You just follow the instructions.’
    ‘I want to understand,’ she said. ‘Just tell me. You don’t have to be afraid of me.’
    ‘Look,’ said Joshua, ‘even if you make a simple wooden box you have to varnish it, otherwise it gets damp and everything swells and that can pull things apart. Whatever you do you have to do it right. You have to follow the instructions. That’s what they’re there for.’ He was saying too much, too fast. He shut up. Shutting up nearly always worked. Anyway what could he say?
    Joshua baffled Jansson. Everybody had been panicking in the dark, evidently, the kids screaming and throwing up and tripping over and crapping their pants and being eaten by mosquitoes and walking into trees. But not Joshua. Joshua was calm. She looked at him now. He was slim, tall for his age, his face pale but his hair Mediterranean black. He was a calm enigma.
    Out loud she said, ‘You know, Joshua, I would have said that, given the stories they’re telling, some of these kids must have been playing with drugs. Except that they were all covered in leaves and scratches. As if they really had been taking a walk in a forest right here in the middle of the city.’
    She took another slight step forward, and he took another slight step back.
    She stopped moving and lowered her hands. ‘Look, Joshua, I know you’re telling the truth.
Because I’ve been there myself
. No more games. Talk to me. The box you’re holding looks pretty neat compared with the others. Can I have a look? I mean just put it down and step back, I’m not trying to trick you. I’m just trying to work out why kids all over town are getting stuck in some mysterious forest, frightened they’re going to be eaten by orcs!’
    Oddly enough that impressed Joshua. He did put the box down, and did step back. ‘I’d like that back, I haven’t got enough money to go to Radio Shack again.’ He hesitated for a moment. ‘You really think orcs?’
    ‘No. I don’t think orcs. But I don’t know what to think. Look, Joshua , you put your box down for me, so I’m putting my card down here where you can pick it up, OK? My personal number. I have a feeling we should stay in touch, you and I.’ She took a couple of steps back, holding the box. ‘Good workmanship!’
    But now another car was coming up, lights blazing. Officer Jansson looked round. ‘Just other policemen checking up,’ she said, ‘don’t worry—’
    There was a faint
pop
.
    She looked at the box in her hand, and at the empty pavement. ‘Joshua?’
    Joshua realized immediately that he’d left his box behind.
    He’d stepped without the box! And, worse, that cop had
seen
him step without the box. Now he was in trouble.
    So he got away. He just kept stepping, away from where he’d been, whatever
away
meant. He didn’t stop, or slow down. He just kept going, one step after the next, each step like a soft jolt in his gut. One world after another, as if it was a series of rooms. One step after the next away from Officer Jansson. Deeper into this corridor of forest.
    As he pressed on there was no more city, no buildings, no lights, no people. Just this forest, but a forest that changed with every step. Trees came out of nowhere with one step and disappeared with the next, like bits of scenery in the plays the kids had to put on in the Home, yet all the trees seemed real, all hard and solid and deep-rooted in the earth. Sometimes it was warmer,