Over The Top: Chalk Dust

white stripes, Shimmering ferns. Zebras of the night. Down the track I went, running like crazy. Slap, crash, skid. I dashed across the clearing and stopped at the caravan. My breath was coming in loud gasps so I stood there, while precious seconds passed.

When I was quieter, I opened the caravan door and slipped in. Dad was still asleep. I carefully lifted the chain over his head and grasped the pendant in my hand, then I slipped out again and started running.

There was only the head and shoulders of the chalk man left when I got back. He was dropping away from his waist, grain by grain, disappearing like smoke.

"Don't go!" I said, running up to him.

He looked at me with his sad chalk eyes. I held the pendant out.

This is my Dad's," I said, "He always wears it!"

The chalk man looked at the pendant, then at me. I think he understood.

"It was my Dad who set fire to your school, wasn't it?" I said, "He wouldn't come up here because ... because he's sorry" I said, "He must be. He won't talk about it, but he always wears this match, to remind him!"

The chalk man held his hand out so I handed him the pendant. He took it in his chalk fingers and held it up to the sky. It sparkled with white fire. Then he handed the pendant back to me and smiled.

"You understand?" I said.

He nodded.

I knew I would never see the chalk man again.

Then I saw someone on the other side of the clearing. It was Dad. He was just standing there, like he didn't know where he was. I went over to him.

"I'm sorry Dad," I said, "I just wanted to make things right."

"So now you know." he said.

"About the fire?" I asked, "It was you, wasn't it."

"Yes." he said.

"Why Dad?"

"I don't know."

I gave the pendant back to him and he looked at it for a moment.