Noah Barleywater Runs Away by John Boyne Page B

from her, that’s all.’
    Noah thought about this. ‘Well, I’m going off to see the world and have a great adventure,’ he explained. ‘I don’t think I need to go to school any more, do you? I’m very bright. In fact, I’m the seventh smartest in my class.’
    ‘And how many are in your class?’
    ‘Thirty,’ said Noah, sounding quite pleased with himself.
    ‘Well, that’s something, I suppose,’ said the old man quietly. ‘But even adventurers need an education.And even
great
adventurers like to go home once in a while.’
    ‘Well, perhaps I’ll go back one day,’ said Noah, considering this. ‘When I’m grown up, I mean. And when I’ve made my fortune.’ He stood up and walked over to the mantelpiece, picked up a picture and stared at it. ‘Is this your father?’ he asked.
    ‘It’s a drawing I did of him when I was a boy,’ said the old man. ‘I keep it there so I won’t forget what he looked like.’
    ‘Does it look very much like him?’
    ‘Not really, no,’ admitted the old man. ‘But I think I capture something of him around the eyes. Of course I don’t really need it there. I feel he’s here all the time.’
    Noah frowned. ‘Here?’ he asked. ‘In the toy shop?’
    ‘Not physically, of course,’ said the old man. ‘But everything here reminds me of him in some way. He’s a part of the place. It makes me happy to remember this.’
    Noah put the picture back without a word, and when he looked up he found himself staring at his own reflection in a mirror. At least, he thought it was his own reflection, but after a few moments his face began to change. It grew a little longer, then wider, then better looking, then he had the beginnings of a beard, as if he hadn’t shaved, then the beard was gone. A moment later he was wearing glasses and he looked quite handsome. Then helooked a little less handsome and there were wrinkles on his forehead. Then his eyes grew a little more damp and he had a moustache and his hair started to thin out and disappear. And finally, the face looking back at him in the mirror smiled for a moment before dissolving into nothingness and being replaced by his own eight-year-old face again, staring back in astonishment.
    ‘How extraordinary,’ said Noah Barleywater.
    ‘What’s that?’ asked the old man, looking up from the table.
    ‘The mirror,’ said Noah. ‘First it was me, then it was me looking a bit older, then it was a man, then it was an old man. Is it some sort of a game?’
    ‘Not a game, no,’ said the old man, walking over and looking at his own reflection, which didn’t change at all; he remained an old man. ‘Stop it, Charles,’ he said, talking to the mirror. ‘You’ll frighten the boy.’
    When he stepped away again Noah looked at his reflection once more, wondering what would happen next, but nothing did. It was just his own face, just plain old Noah Barleywater, nothing special, nothing dreadful, nothing to write home about.
    ‘You still haven’t told me why you’re leaving though,’ said the old man, sitting down again. ‘Did your parents mistreat you?’
    ‘No!’ said Noah quickly, his face flushing red. ‘No, it’s got nothing to do with that.’
    ‘Then I’m afraid I simply don’t understand,’ said the old man. ‘After all, when I left my father, it was because I wanted to be a great runner and, well, time rather ran away with me. But you? You’re not a runner, are you?’
    ‘Well, I can run,’ said Noah, mildly offended. ‘I won the bronze medal in the five hundred metres at our school sports day last May.’
    ‘The bronze, you say?’ asked the old man. ‘Third place, you say?’
    ‘Third place is good!’ snapped Noah. ‘Out of thirty! There’s no shame in third place.’
    ‘Of course not,’ said the old man. ‘It’s just not a position I’m accustomed to, that’s all.’
    ‘Well,’ said Noah, looking away and feeling uncertain whether he wanted to tell the old man everything or just sit