Read Four Wheeled Hero Online

Authors: Malcolm Brown

Tags: #fantasy story, #magical powers, #childrens adventure story, #hero adventure, #magical abilities, #disabled child, #wheelchair hero, #childrens detective story, #funny childrens adventure, #magical weapons

Four Wheeled Hero (4 page)

BOOK: Four Wheeled Hero
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‘Right’, Tommy
said as he concentrated on his task.

 

Within seconds
Tommy’s wheelchair turned into what can only be described as a
‘Noddy Car’. It was bright yellow and red with over large
headlights that looked like a pair of eyes, and large wheels that
seemed four sizes too big.

 

‘Wow’, Smithy
said in complete surprise at what stood before him.

 

The car
disappeared as quickly as it had arrived leaving Tommy back in his
familiar old wheelchair.

 

‘What was
that’, Smithy asked.

 

‘I don’t know’,
replied Tommy. ‘I can’t seem to concentrate my thought’s, all sorts
of things go through my mind when I try to produce something. For
some reason I started to think of Toy Town and Noddy. Don’t ask me
why’, Tommy added.

 

‘Why did it
disappear so quickly’, asked Smithy. ‘I would have loved to have
taken it for a spin’.

 

‘That’s another
thing’, Tommy said. ‘As soon as I stop concentrating the things
disappear again’.

 

‘Let’s try it
again’, suggested Smithy in anticipation of driving a super cool
sports car.

 

Tommy once
again got his thoughts together and started concentrating on his
task. Instantly his wheelchair changed into another vehicle, again
not quite the super sports car that Smithy was expecting. This time
Tommy was seated in a clown’s car, the type you would see at the
circus. It was bright blue and red, had no top on it, and its
headlights were dangling out of their sockets on springs bouncing
up and down with every movement made. Steam spurted out of the
radiator cap on the top of the bonnet and all of the doors fell off
as soon as Smithy touched it. Again no sooner had it appeared than
it disappeared leaving Tommy looking very frustrated.

 

‘This is no
good’, said Tommy. ‘I can’t seem to concentrate on anything for
more than a few seconds, and even then it produces nothing like I
want it to.

 

‘Never mind’,
said Smithy. ‘What we really need is something that you can really
see to concentrate your thoughts, and I’ve got just the thing’.

 

Smithy started
feeling in his inside pocket and brought out a rather crumpled copy
of his favourite magazine ‘ DYNAMO MAN’. Smithy fumbled through the
pages until he came to his most favourite page showing ‘Dynamo
Mans’ latest equipment.

 

‘Look at this’,
Smithy said as he looked down in envy at the picture of ‘Dynamo
Mans, sports car ‘Dynocar’. ‘Isn’t it lovely, it is completely

computerised
and needs no manual operation. You just tell it where to go and it
takes you there. It travels so fast that no one can see it and it
can even mend its own punctures’.

 

Tommy took the
magazine from Smithy and started to stare at the picture with all
his power. As before the wheelchair quickly turned into a vehicle,
but this time it was not something to laugh about for there stood
Dynamo Man’s ‘Dynacar’. Smithy fell back in amazement at what had
appeared before him. With his mouth wide open and for once
speechless he got to his feet and came over to admire his super
hero’s most prized car.

 

‘Its, its
wonderful’, is all Smithy could say as he ran his fingers down the
sleek black lines of the bodywork, fingering the large tail wings
that made the car seem as if it could fly.

 

The window
suddenly opened to show Tommy sat in the driver’s seat with the
magazine still clutched in his hands with him still concentrating
hard on the picture. For once the car did not disappear straight
away so Smithy went around the other side and climbed into the
passenger seat next to his mate.

 

‘Isn’t this
great’, said Smithy. ‘How about taking us for a spin’.

 

Tommy turned
towards his friend to say something to him, temporarily taking his
concentration away from the picture in front of him. Instantly the
car disappeared leaving the sound of a large ‘Ouch’ as Smithy
landed on his bottom on the hard tarmac path. He regained his feet
rubbing his behind which had taken the full force of the drop.

 

‘You nearly had
it that time’, said Smithy.

 

‘As long as I
concentrate on the picture the car stays’, replied Tommy in a
disappointed voice.

 

‘Good’,
answered Smithy. ‘That’s all we need to get us there, the car will
do the rest’.

 

The boys
prepared themselves for their adventure, for his part Tommy
clutched the ‘Dynamo Man’ magazine in his hands and Smithy
memorised the instructions to the car that they had agreed on.
Smithy pushed Tommy back up the tow path and again up the path
leading to the road above. Looking all around them to ensure that
the coast was clear first, Tommy started to concentrate on the
picture of the car once again. Instantly it returned and Smithy
quickly jumped into the passenger seat. Tommy stared down at the
picture for all he was worth leaving Smithy to give the
instructions to the vehicle.

 

‘Car’, Smithy
said in an authoritative voice. ‘Take us to Uncle Frank’s farm just
outside Broadacre on the Windom Road, stop three hundred metres up
the road from the main gates’.

 

With that the
car started to move and was soon speeding up the road doing almost
five hundred miles an hour. Smithy sat there in pure awe of what he
was doing, thinking that nobody would believe him if he told them.
Within just a few minutes the car came to a stop. Smithy opened the
electric window and identified the farm he could see just a short
distance up the road.

 

‘We’re here’,
he said in an excited voice.

 

Tommy took his
eyes off the picture and once again the car disappeared, however,
this time without the sound of Smithy hitting then ground. He had
already anticipated Tommy’s move and had quickly jumped out of the
car.

 

‘That was
great’, said Smithy.

 

‘Yes, I enjoyed
it too’, Tommy replied. If only there was some way of making the
car stay without having to concentrate on it all of the time, it
would make life a lot easier’.

 

Smithy pointed
up the road. ‘That’s Uncle Frank’s place’, he said. ‘I’m not
looking forward to knocking on his door’, he added.

 

They started up
the road in the direction of the farm when suddenly a car zoomed
past nearly knocking them into the ditch that ran along the side of
the road. The car indicated and turned down the drive heading for
Uncle Frank’s farm. As it did so both boys got a good look at the
passenger who sat beside the driver.

 

‘That’s him’,
said Tommy. ‘That’s the man who forced his way into our house and
held Mum and me prisoner’.

 

‘Are you sure’,
replied Smithy.

 

‘I’ll never
forget his face in a hurry’, Tommy said. ‘You could see the scar on
his left cheek quite clearly’, Tommy added.

 

‘Why would they
be going to Uncle Frank’s farm’, asked Smithy. ‘Do you think they
are holding him prisoner too?’

 

‘I don’t know’,
answered Tommy. ‘We will have to get a little closer for a better
look’.

 

They continued
up the road until they reached the entrance to the farm drive.

 

‘If we walk
down there they will be able to see us from the farm house’, Tommy
said. ‘We had better find a way to get closer’.

 

They studied
the outlying approaches to the farm and agreed that the only way
they could get closer without being seen was via a small wood
running from the edge of the road which would allow them to get to
the farm outbuildings at the side and back of the farm house. The
view from the windows of the farm house on this side would be
obstructed by the outbuildings and would therefore hide their
approach. The only problem with this route was Tommy’s
wheelchair.

 

‘How are we
going to manage to get you through the wood in your chair’, Smithy
said scratching his head in deep thought.

 

‘Maybe I can
arrange some help’, said Tommy as he started to concentrate
hard.

 

In a matter of
seconds two legs sprang from Tommy’s wheelchair lifting him four
feet off the ground. They started to run forward and then backwards
as if they had a mind of their own. With all this movement Tommy
started to loose concentration as well as his temper.

 

‘Stay here’, he
said in a grumpy voice.

 

The legs stood
perfectly still, which is more than could be said for Smithy. He
was on the grass laughing his head off.

 

‘You should
have seen your self, you looked like a demented chicken with those
long legs wobbling backwards and forwards’, Smithy said in between
his bouts of laughter.

 

‘It’s all right
for you, Tommy replied. You didn’t have to ride this bucking
bronco’.

 

‘Hey, have you
noticed something’, Smithy said. ‘Your legs are still with us and
you’ve stopped thinking about them’.

 

Tommy suddenly
took in what Smithy had said. True enough the legs were still there
and he had forgotten all about them.

 

‘You’re right’,
Tommy replied looking down on his mate from on high.

 

‘Why haven’t
they disappeared as normal? Smithy questioned. ‘What did you do
this time that you haven’t done before.’ ‘Nothing’, replied Tommy.
‘Apart from telling them to stay here’.

 

‘That must be
it’, said Smithy. ‘You need to tell things when to stay and go.
Let’s try it out’.

 

‘Right’,
replied Tommy. ‘Are you ready, ‘Legs Go’, he commanded.

 

The legs
disappeared immediately.

 

‘Great’, said
Smithy. ‘At last you have control over everything’.

 

‘Lets test it
again’, suggested Tommy as he concentrated once more.

 

The legs
reappeared and started running up and down all over again bringing
the giggles back to Smithy as he watched his mate trying to stay
seated.

 

‘Stay here’,
Tommy commanded as he finally got the legs under control. ‘Well
that seemed to work well Smithy’, he said as he wobbled above
Smithy’s head.

 

‘Good’, said
Smithy as he started in the direction of the farm buildings through
the woods.

 

Tommy followed
behind in his unsteady transport. He found the journey quite
difficult as he kept having to tell the legs what to do all the
time. One minute they were taking long strides and the next they
were on tip toes walking at a snails pace. It was like riding a
camel through the desert apart from the fact that they would never
duck to allow Tommy to avoid low branches. At times Tommy even
thought they were doing it on a purpose just to get their own
back.

 

After twenty
minutes of making a path through the dense woods they finally
reached the small field which backed onto the farm buildings.
Smithy climbed over the wire fence but Tommy’s legs decided they
wanted to jump the fence and hung back to make a run at it. With
Tommy hanging on for dear life the legs shot forward and set sail
over the fence with legs wide apart like a ballet dancer to land
like a baby elephant on the other side, which nearly spilt Tommy
out of his chair. Once again Smithy was in fits of laughter as he
watched the antics of Tommy’s legs.

 

‘They are
really good for a laugh’, Smithy said. ‘It looked so comical’.

 

‘It’s all right
for you’, Tommy replied sounding very cross. ‘Your the one that
doesn’t have to ride them. They seem to have a mind of their own
which seems to be that of a child of two’, he added.

 

They crossed
the field and came along the back of the main barn. Still unseen
from the house they made their way between the barn and a shed
heading for a side door in the side of the barn. As they crept
forward they didn’t notice the farm cat peacefully asleep in a
small indent in the ground, asleep that was until one of Tommy’s
legs placed its foot on its tail sending the cat screaming towards
the house.

 

The effect on
our hero’s was dramatic to say the least. Whereas Smithy hit the
ground trying to hide himself from view, Tommy’s legs had other
ideas. With a turn quicker than lightning they turned fully round
and started to dash back towards the woods like cattle stampeding
after a lightning strike. Tommy was riding them like a true rodeo
cowboy, pulling back on the arms of his wheelchair and shouting
’STOP STOP’ for all he was worth. The legs were just about to make
a second leap into the woods when he finally gained control. He sat
back looking completely worn out before he turned the legs and
headed back to where Smithy was sat doubled over in laughter.

 

‘That’s the
best yet’, he said through clenched teeth to stop himself from
bursting.

 

‘When this is
over’, Tommy growled. ‘I’m taking these personally to the scrap
dealer’.

 

There was a
sudden noise that brought the boys back down to earth. They crept
back along the side of the barn and in through the side door. They
moved to the front of the barn to peer through holes in the main
doors. They had a full view of the back of the house where a man
they didn’t recognise stood smoking a cigarette. It was obvious
that they had not heard the commotion of a few moments ago or else
they would have been searching for the cause of the noise. The man
stood there a few more minutes before being joined by the man with
the scar. They spoke to one another but the boys were too far away
to hear what was said. A couple of minutes later both of the men
went back inside the farm house.

BOOK: Four Wheeled Hero
11.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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