At first he stayed in his bed, turning from side to side in a vain effort to recover the lost comfort of sleep. Finally he rose and went to the one small window, which overlooked the eastern garden. As he stood there, gratefully feeling the fresh, night air on his hot face, the moon swung up over the orchard hill, and shone into his eyes. It was a rather elderly moon, a little lop-sided, but still radiant enough to give life and shape to every bush and tree in the tangled garden. Aidan looked and listened, and could hear tiny sounds—the rustle of grass as a bandicoot padded by, the chirp of crickets, the thud of a possum dropping on to the cowshed roof, and, loneliest of all night noises, the baying of a dog far away down the gully. He was never quite sure what made him turn back into his room and put on his everyday clothes. Perhaps it was the realization that there was another world beyond the one he knew here—the hated world of school and Paddy Tolly, and the fight that wasn’t a fight.
