School Of Thought by Steve Dunn

Author:Steve Dunn [Dunn, Steve]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Steve Dunn
Published: 2012-10-18T16:00:00+00:00

Duncan's room. I feel like a trespasser, and I suppose I must be. My feet are itching to leave and I'm jumpy, but I've work to do. I've already fetched a carrier bag from the kitchen and Stewart had instructed me, should I make it this far, to grab anything of interest from Duncan's room that we can inspect more closely once I'm back in the safety of the barn.

Listening out once more, I hold my breath before commencing. Either Duncan doesn't care if we come searching, or he thinks we'd still be hiding up in the barn, too frightened to come out. I study the green-bathed room, the light of the two canisters on his desk being just enough to illuminate everything satisfactorily.

I find nothing remotely of interest on the desk itself, only his CD player and tidy burnt-disc collection standing out amongst the ordered piles of folded clothes, clustered small change and some handwritten sheets of paper. I scan these notes and discover they're poems, written by Duncan, some are signed and dated recently. They all appear to follow a running theme of desire and devotion. I want to stay and read them, but consider maybe I should just take them with me. The only thing that stops me is the depth of their personal meaning. If Duncan found these missing, I'd dread to think what he might do. He seems unhinged enough as it is, without me helping tip him further over the edge. No, I'll take two random poems from the middle of the pile and hope he doesn't notice. Hopefully they might give some insight into the man.

I quickly run my eyes around the room and spy Rachel's diary peeking out from under his pillow, its pink so muddied by the chemical glow. Here is something I can't avoid taking, I have to bring it with me. Duncan's poems are one thing, but this diary could hold such overt pointers to our situation, and possibly our own sins, that I have no choice. Duncan will flip but what can I do?

I back out of the room and then on reflection, as I head for the stairs, I double-back and enter Stewart's bedroom. I hurriedly sort through his masses of paper and books, just in case. I leave his unreadable notes behind, he's plenty more in the barn to sort through, and no doubt his magnificent mind has already absorbed all the information stored in this room like a ravenous leech.

I stop suddenly, halted in my progress by a name on a professionally-printed brochure. "Eulberg-Schumann", it declares with the bold brush of a gold and bright green logo. It's the name of the private company that Sally had applied for the job with. And the concerning message on the PC had been signed by an "E.S.". I shove it in the bag and jog downstairs.

Passing the front door on my way out, I pause at the top of the basement steps. Just one more quick look in our room, whoever I shared it with.

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