‘Wake up, wake up.’
I vaguely remembered seeing a short, plump, bald man with a light brown and grey short beard, wearing a black robe, slowly tapping Lucy on the cheek.
‘Wake up.’ His voice became gradually louder.
‘Am I still dreaming? Where am I?’ I asked.
In a split-second, Lucy screamed, then slapped the man across the side of his face, not once, but twice. We snapped out of dreamland and realized that we arrived at our destination: Melbourne Depot.
The man was Father McKenzie’s colleague, Brother John, who was trying to wake us up. Lucy rounded up for another slap; this time, fist tightly clenched. I grabbed her arm to stop this lethal little blow, sincerely apologising to the brother.
‘Oh, my God, I beg your pardon. I’m so sorry. Lucy, snap out of it. It’s Brother John. We’re
