“Well?” asked Mrs. Novato. “What was it that you wished to know?”

Toby didn’t answer.

“It was so important that you had to discuss it with Petra in the middle of nature study, and yet you can’t tell me what it was?”

Toby said, in a small, husky voice, “It was Petra’s dreams, Mrs. Novato.”

“Speak up,” insisted his teacher. “I didn’t hear you.”

“It was Petra’s dreams. Petra’s been having bad dreams, and so have I.”

Mrs. Novato blinked at him. “Bad dreams? What kind of bad dreams?”

“I’ve been dreaming about a man stuck in my wardrobe calling for help, and Petra’s been having dreams about people covered with blood.”

Mrs. Novato walked slowly down the aisle toward them. She looked first at Toby and then at Petra. On the blackboard behind her was the chalked message: “Trees in the Petrified Forest were turned to stone by minerals.”

Mrs. Novato said, “Have you told your parents about these dreams?”

The children nodded.

“Yes, Mrs. Novato.”

Mrs. Novato smiled. “In that case, I’m sure you’re both going to be fine. Maybe a little less cheese at bedtime, and those dreams are sure to disappear. Now, forget about what goes on in dreams and let’s have your attention on something that’s real. The trees in the Petrified Forest.”

Toby sat down again. Petra, annoyed at having been scolded by Mrs. Novato, pinched him hard on the leg.

*

During lunch recess, in the hot, dusty school yard with its chain-link fence, Toby sat on a split-log bench and ate his peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches. Today, despite Ben Nichelini’s entreaties to trade a sandwich for a live lizard on a piece of string, he felt hungry, and he ate everything his mother had prepared for him. He carefully saved his Baby Ruth bar until last.

Andy Beaver, who was the envy of the class because his uncle had taken him to see Star Wars, was doing a passable imitation of R-2 D-2, while Karen Doughty was breathing in and out very loudly and panting: “I’m Darth Vader! I’m Darth Vader!”

Daniel Soscol, one of the youngest boys in the class, came across the school yard and sat down next to Toby, watching him eat with silent interest. Daniel wasn’t very popular because he was so young and so quiet. He had thin arms and legs, and big dark eyes. His father was a plumber in Valley Ford, and his mother had died in May.

Toby continued to eat. When he had finished, he took out the square of kitchen towel that his mother had neatly folded under his sandwiches, and wiped his mouth.

Daniel said, “I heard you say about the dreams.”