Four Wheeled Hero

by Malcolm Brown

  Copyright © Malcolm Brown 2015

  This book is sold subject to the conditions that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar conditions this being imposed on the subsequent publisher.

  The moral right of Malcolm Brown has been asserted.

  Published via Smashwords Inc 2015

  FOUR WHEELED HERO

  By

  Malcolm Brown

  Tommy and Smithy were two typical ten year olds, mad on football and super heroes. Tommy was confined to a wheelchair after suffering a terrible accident two years earlier, but this did not stop him from joining in all of the fun with his mate Smithy.

  Their daily life was one of adventure created by their own imaginations, until one dark Thursday night when Tommy’s life would be changed forever...............

  Four Wheeled Hero

  Chapter 1

  The Gift

  ‘Yes! Yes!, shouted Smithy as he celebrated scoring another goal before being mobbed by his fellow players, just before he rushed over to give his best friend Tommy Clark a big hug in celebration. Tommy sat in his wheelchair with a grin on his face that showed his pleasure in his mate’s achievement.

  ‘Go get us another one Smithy’, he cried as his team rejoined the other side to finish the game. ‘Ain’t they great Dad’, he said to his father who attended every school match with him. ‘I do wish I could be with them just once more’, he added before letting out another yell as the ball bounced off their opponents cross bar.

  ‘Never mind Tom, you can help them celebrate their win’, his Dad replied.

  Tommy was just eight years old when he fell down a flight of stairs and damaged his back which left him paralysed from the waist down. Many a lot older than himself may have given up and just accepted their fate, but not Tommy. Over the following two years he had astounded everyone, trying anything and everything that came along that was within his ability. Now at the age of ten he was one of the most outward looking young boys that anyone would wish to meet.

  His best mate Smithy would involve him in all sorts of activities, at times forgetting that Tommy was in a wheelchair. They had grown up together and were never far apart. Smithy had bright ginger hair, wore horn rimmed glasses and had a face covered in freckles, whereas Tommy looked more like a shaggy Old English sheep dog with his blonde hair, which at times covered his eyes making it difficult for him to see. He too wore specs which gave him an even cheekier grin.

  The final whistle blew and Tommy and his school team celebrated with a meal at Mc Donald’s, before making their way home. Tommy’s Dad dropped Smithy outside his house before driving the 200 metres to where his parents lived in a large bungalow that had been adapted to allow Tommy free movement inside and out. His Mum was waiting on the doorstep to welcome them home.

  ‘Come on you two’, she said wrapping her cardigan around her to keep out the chilling wind that had sprung up. ‘I’ve a nice cup of hot chocolate ready for you’.

  They went in and Tommy told his Mum about the game and Smithy’s two goals while he drank his hot chocolate.

  ‘By the way’, his Mum said. ‘I nearly forgot, there’s a parcel come for you. By the looks of it, it’s from your Uncle Bill’.

  Tommy’s Mum left the kitchen to get the parcel. Tommy’s Uncle Bill was an archaeologist who was part of an expedition looking for the lost tribe of Kataka in the Brazilian rain forest. Whenever he went away he would always send Tommy something for his rock collection, something out of the ordinary.

  Tommy’s Mum came back into the kitchen holding a rather battered parcel wrapped in brown paper tied tightly with string. Tommy rushed to open the package ripping off the paper as if it was a long awaited Christmas present. Inside was a small wooden box with a little silver catch. Tommy pushed open the catch and lifted the lid.

  Inside was a bright orange pebble like stone with patches of gold and silver that caught the light and sparkled like diamonds. Neither Tommy or his parents had ever seen anything so beautiful. Beneath the stone there was a letter from his Uncle Bill. Tommy unfolded the letter and started to read.....

  “Dear Tommy. Just a quick line so that I can give this parcel to the boatman who’s going down river to post it for me when he gets our supplies. About a week ago while pushing through an unexplored part of the rain forest we came across a young boy who had injured himself badly and was unable to make his way back to his village.

  We managed to set his broken leg and dress the gash in his side after which he directed us back to his village many miles away that took us over a day to reach. My was his father glad to see him, as he had been missing for a week. That night they held a feast in celebration as the boy was the only son of the tribe Chief and thanks had to be given to their gods for his safe return.

  What ever we drank that night made us sleep like logs and it was late in the afternoon of the following day that we prepared to leave. The Chief came over to me and gave me the stone you now have. He told me it had great powers and would help me achieve great things. He then said that I should carry the stone with me wherever I go or the power will not work. It’s most unusual looking stone so I thought you would like it for your collection.

  I must go now or I’ll miss the boat down river, Give my love to you parents. Best Wishes, Uncle Bill”

  ‘Well isn’t that nice of your Uncle Bill’, said Tommy’s Dad. ‘If it’s got magic powers, maybe you should ask it for that new fishing rod you keep pestering me about’, he added with a broad grin on his face.

  ‘No’, said Tommy laughing as he placed the stone in his pocket. ‘I’d wish for it to make my wheelchair into a magic machine that would do as I commanded’.

  Unbeknown to all, the stone in Tommy’s pocket started to glow for an instant before returning to normal.

  Tommy’s Dad started to tickle him making him slide down his chair in a fit of laughter after which he felt quite exhausted as they sat together watching TV.

  He was a little more tired than usual and he decided that he would have an early night, so at around 8.30 he kissed his Mum and Dad goodnight and went to bed and dropped off almost immediately.

  The next morning he woke bright and early. He got dressed and joined his Mum in the kitchen to have his breakfast.

  ‘Are you all right’, she asked. ‘You looked exhausted last night, your not coming down with something are you’, she enquired.

  ‘No I’m fine’, Tommy replied.

  She came over and put her arm around Tommy giving him one of those squeezes that only a mother can give.

  ‘I’ll get the car out while you finish your breakfast’, she said as she grabbed the keys off the top of the kitchen unit and headed for the door to the garage.

  Tommy finished eating and put his bowl in the sink before collecting his bag containing his school books and heading out of the front door. His Mum stood by the front passenger door of the car to take his wheelchair once he had transferred himself to the car. With it now loaded on board they left to collect Smithy on their way to school.

  As usual Smithy was stood balanced on his garden wall pretending that he was either walking a tightrope or about to rescue a maiden in distress from an evil villain who lived in a castle at the top of a mountain where the only way in was over a rope strung over a cavern. His eyes closed he would walk along the wall wobbling from side to side before falling with a crash into the small hedge surrounding his garden.

  ‘Come on Smithy’, Tommy’s Mum cried as she stood with the car door open watching Smithy’s legs sticking through the top of the hedge. Within seconds the legs disappeared and the be
draggled Smithy appeared clutching his school bag.

  ‘Fell off the cliff again’, enquired Tommy’s mother.

  ‘I can never make it along that wall with my eyes closed’, answered Smithy.

  ‘Then why do you try’, Tommy asked.

  ‘It’s the challenge’, replied Smithy.

  The journey to school was uneventful and they waved goodbye to Tommy’s mother and headed into the playground. They went over to the bike sheds and Smithy slid down the side wall to sit on his school bag.

  ‘What are we doing this weekend’, asked Tommy.

  ‘Nothing by the looks of it’, replied Smithy. ‘My horrible uncle is coming over so we will have to stay in and talk nice to him as usual. No one in our family likes him but because he runs my Granddads business and holds a lot of power over him and my Grandmother, we have to treat him as one of the family and smile all the time, even if it makes your face ache’.

  ‘Does that mean we can’t see each other’, enquired Tommy disappointed with the thought of not seeing his best mate.

  ‘I suppose so’, replied Smithy.

  With that the school bell rang and they filed into school with the rest of the children. The day dragged on for Tommy, and not even the extra sticky toffee pudding could bring him out of his deep depression. Even Smithy left some of his chips as the two friends sat almost lifeless over lunch.

  Friday was early finishing at Tommy’s school so he was pleased that they could spend a few hours together before the day was out. They spent their time in Smithy’s garden where his dad had built a large shed to take Smithy’s train set. Tommy would have his tea at Smithy’s which would allow them an extra bit of time together before it was time for him to go home. As always his mother would collect him at 5.30 and wheel him along the road to his home.

  ‘That’s funny’, said Tommy’s Mother as they approached their bungalow. ‘Your dad’s not home yet. He’s never late on a Friday’.

  They entered the house and Tommy put the TV on to watch the Simpson’s on Channel 4. Suddenly there was a loud knock on the front door.

  ‘I’ll get it, cried’ Tommy to his Mum in the kitchen.

  Tommy opened the front door to a very large man who pushed past him and headed for the kitchen. Within minutes he was back dragging his mother with his hand over her mouth to stop her from screaming. He told Tommy to go back into the lounge and he followed behind still dragging his Mother.

  On entering the lounge he threw Tommy’s Mother onto the settee and told them not to make a sound or else. Tommy joined his mother who clutched him towards her looking quite terrified.

  ‘Don’t give me any trouble and you won’t get hurt’, said the evil looking man. ‘If you behave yourselves this will be over in a couple of hours’.

  Tommy sat silent with his Mother studying the villain just in case the police wanted a good description like they do in the movies. He was very tall and broad and dressed in jeans and a red tee shirt. He had a scar across his left cheek that looked as if someone had cut him with a knife. His eyes were deep and menacing and he kept winking his right eye every few minutes.

  Tommy was building this mental picture for further evidence when a mobile phone suddenly started to ring. The man took the phone out of his jeans pocket, said a few words in a low voice, which Tommy could not hear, and handed the phone to Tommy’s Mother.

  ‘It’s for you’, he said giving Tommy a glare as he did so.

  Tommy’s Mother placed the phone to her ear and almost broke down in tears immediately.

  ‘Yes, yes’, she said. ‘Please let me talk to him so that I know he’s ok’.

  There was a short pause before his Mother spoke again.

  ‘Have they hurt you’, she said just before the man grabbed the phone out of her hand.

  Tommy’s Mother started to cry again and Tommy moved closer to comfort her at the same time as being concerned about his Dad.

  ‘They are holding your Dad prisoner’, she blurted between the tears. ‘They want him to open the safe of his bank so they can steal the money’, she went on to say just before the man dragged Tommy away from his Mother.

  ‘Do as you’re told and no one will get hurt’, he said again. ‘You’, he added pointing to Tommy. ‘Go and put the kettle on and make us a nice cup of tea’.

  Tommy felt like telling him to make his own tea, but his mother told him to do as he was told, so he headed for the kitchen. He filled the kettle with water and plugged it in before getting the mugs out of the cupboard. To show his unwillingness to carry out his instructions he crashed and banged everything down as he went about his task.

  Suddenly the door opened and the man appeared. Looking past the man he could see that his mother had been tied up with sticky tape and was lying on the settee with a piece of tape over her mouth to stop her from making any noise.

  ‘What are you doing’, said the man in an angry voice.

  ‘What have you done to my Mother’, Tommy screamed.

  ‘The same as I’m going to do to you’, he said heading towards Tommy.

  Tommy could not think of what to do. If I was not in this chair, he thought, I would hit you so hard. The thought had just passed through his mind when suddenly a large boxing glove attached to a coiled spring shot from Tommy’s wheelchair and hit the man full in the face sending him flying across the room. He hit the wall with a thud and slid down it. The boxing glove disappeared as quick as it had arrived leaving Tommy sat with his mouth wide open in disbelief.

  What the heck was that, he thought not being able to gather and speak the words.

  The man still looking dazed started to come around and pick himself off the floor. The look of rage in his face said everything as he grunted his hate towards Tommy.

  Tommy realising that his life was now in danger could not bring himself to move. I should have hit him with a bat instead of a glove, he thought as the man once again headed in his direction. Within seconds there was a large baseball bat, all of six foot long, came shooting out of his chair which hit the man hard in the stomach knocking all the air out of him. He crumpled to the floor trying to regain his breath.

  Tommy sat spellbound at what had taken place, still unable to come to terms with what was happening. The man started to come around once again but this time instead of making a move towards Tommy, he headed for the back door and ran up the road as fast as his legs would carry him.

  Tommy was suddenly brought down to Earth when he heard his Mother grunting in the lounge concerned at the noise she had heard over the past few minutes. Tommy rushed to her side and removed the tape that had bound her hands and feet. He removed the tape which had gagged her and she clutched him to her in a hold that he thought would break his back.

  ‘He’s gone’, Tommy said still holding tight onto his Mother.

  ‘What was that noise, I was so worried about you’, she blurted with tears streaming down her face. ‘What made him leave’, she asked.

  ‘Oh, said Tommy. I..I..threw some hot tea at him and he panicked and ran’, he added not even trying to explain what really did happen, because he was finding it difficult to believe it himself.

  As they sat still holding one another the phone rang. Tommy’s Mother answered it.

  ‘No you can’t, no you can’t’, Tommy heard her say as she stood trembling by the phone. She replaced the receiver and came back over to Tommy with tears streaming once again down her face.

  ‘Those men are still holding your Dad’, she said. ‘They are going to keep him prisoner over the weekend until Monday morning when the automatic alarm system turns itself off on the bank vault. You’re Dad had set it just before leaving and this bunch of amateurs had not taken that into consideration before they put their plan into operation’.