Early on Saturday morning as Peter’s mum was walking down the stairs she heard a horrible noise. It was a sound that chilled her to the bone and went something like this. “Aaaahhhhhnnooooooo! Oooooohhhhhhhhnnnnooo!” The horrible noise did not sound human. It was coming from the family room and so she went straight there to see what was wrong.
On entering the family room she saw Peter lying on the floor. He was rolling around and that horrible sound was coming from his throat. “Peter. What’s wrong? Are you sick? Do we need to go to the hospital?” Peter did not say a word just pointed to a gap in the entertainment cabinet and continued to howl.
Peter’s mum followed his pointing finger and saw a note hanging in the spot where the game console should be. It read, “Last night I broke the game console. I have taken it to the shop for repairs. We will have it back by Monday. Love Dad.”
“Is that what this is all about? A broken game console?” Peter’s mum asked. Sobbing into his shirtsleeve Peter could only nod. “Well, it’s not the end of the world. There are plenty of things you can do Peter,” she said sympathetically. “Like what?” he sobbed.
“You could read a book or help me around the house. I’ve got plenty of things to keep you occupied,” she replied. Oh great, he thought. Just what I need a weekend with nothing to do but chores. Peter howled even louder and rolled away from his mother.
“Well, let’s get to work then shall we?” she asked as she walked over and picked Peter up off the floor and gave him a cuddle. “What would you like to do first? I know, you can water the flowers for me.”
Outside Peter stood dejectedly with the hose. He was watering the garden at the side of the house where his mother had planted some flowers that had bright red, orange and yellow colours. Sadly, he looked around and saw that his father had left the ladder out. It was leaning against the side of the house. Peter’s gaze followed the ladder up and at the top he saw the neighbour’s cat sitting on the roof with its tail swishing back and forth.
Suddenly, Peter imagined that the bright coloured flowers were flames burning down the house. His clothes became a fireman’s uniform. His garden hose had become a powerful fire hose; the neighbour’s cat was a young boy trapped in the burning building. Peter had to make a choice, drop the hose, climb the ladder and rescue the boy or continue to fight the flames. What do I do? he thought.
Just as he was about to cast aside the fire hose and rescue the boy, his mother called out, “Peter, I need you to help me hang out the washing. Turn off the hose and wind down the clothes line please.” Everything returned to normal and Peter called back, “OK mum.”
As Peter was winding the handle of the clothesline, he noticed the old washing basket and trolley. He was looking at it thinking about the billy-cart that his father had made him once…
Looking through the windscreen of his formula one racing machine, Peter could see that he was in trouble. The nose cone was hanging loose on one side and the front wings had started to flap around. I’ve lost downward pressure on the front tyres. If I can’t stop soon I’ll be in all sorts of trouble. Have to get to the pits and have that nose cone replaced, he thought. Peter began to struggle with the controls of his high-speed machine. It was beginning to wobble around on the track. It was about to crash!
“Is everything alright?” asked Peter’s mother. Peter climbed up out of the old washing basket and trolley. “My formula 1 racing car was crashing,” he said by way of explanation. “Oh. I hope no one got hurt? she asked not wanting to upset his imagination now that he was enjoying himself without his game console. “Yes,” he replied. “No one was hurt.” “Good,” she replied. “Now help me hang out the sheets.”
Peter sat on the ground near the clothesline looking at the sheets as they caught the wind. A parrot landed on the top of the hoist and started to squawk.
Peter looked up at the crow’s nest of the square-rigged sailing ship. There was a skull and cross bone flying from the mast. The parrot had become the lookout and Peter, well, he was the captain. “Avast ye land lubbers. Heave to on the main sail. Make two points to starboard Mr Twist,” he called to the helm. “Come about and we’ll take that galleon broadside.”
As the ship came about the fleeing treasure ship came into view. “Man the cannon you scurvy dogs. We’ll eat well tonight.” The pirate ship raced towards the helpless trade ship and came along side. “Grappling hooks at the ready. Fire!” The cannon made a sound like dry thunder and the mast of the galleon toppled as a cannon ball cut it in half. “Take her and her treasure and send the hulk to Davey Jones’ locker,” cried Captain Peter Trent.
From the kitchen window, Peter’s mum watched as her son played under the clothesline. She could not begin to imagine what he was seeing out there. One thing she could see was that he was having a great time. She didn’t feel right about calling him in for lunch, but he had to eat something. “Peter. Lunch is ready. Come in now.”
Peter had been duelling with the captain of the galleon, an excellent swordsman who was just about to surrender his ship to the pirates when he heard his mother call him to lunch. “OK mum. Be right there.” He looked about and saw that he was standing under the clothesline again. What happened to the pirate ship, he thought as he headed inside for lunch.
Later that afternoon, Peter was in the garage. He looked up and saw his father’s dartboard hanging on the wall. There was a dart hanging by its tip in the bulls-eye.
Peter glanced about and saw the grandstands filled to capacity with tradesmen and nobles, maids and mothers with their children. The crowd was holding its breath. The competition had come down to the Prince Regent’s champion archer and himself.
Peter knew the competition had been staged as a trap but he could not help himself. He was the greatest archer that ever lived and in the eye’s of the Regent, an outlaw. If he took this shot and won the competition the Regent would know he was Peter of Hillsdale, the notorious highwayman who had turned the people against the crown. What do I do? he wondered. Take the shot and try to get out before I’m captured. Miss the shot and feel cheated.
Taking aim, the disguised bandit let fly with his arrow. It flew straight and true taking the bulls-eye dead centre and knocking the other arrow out of the target. The Regent stood up and called for the guards to arrest the archer who had won the competition. “That’s the highwayman, Peter of Hillsdale. Arrest him!”
*
“Peter. Peter, where are you?” called his mother. “It’s time for your bath.” Peter answered, “I’m here in the garage. I’ll be right in.”
Peter ran into the house and upstairs to the bathroom. His mother had put water in the bathtub for him and added some bubble bath. Peter took one look at the bubbles and the water and was transported away.
Trapped in the tiny submarine, he looked out at the foaming water. What am I going to do? he thought. I only have enough air left to last another 15 minutes. I have to get out of this lava tube’s current and blow the tanks to surface.
Peter gripped the controls of his mini-sub and searched for an opening in the roof of the underwater lava tube. The current was rushing him along at amazing speed. I should never have gone to investigate that hole in the seabed.
There! Light coming in from outside. Peter guided the mini-sub towards the fast approaching hole. He hopped it would be big enough. His timing was going to have to be perfect. Peter had to get close enough to the roof and blow his ballast tanks making the mini-sub shoot through the hole in the roof like a cork from a bottle.
“Three, two, one, now!” he cried. His timing, as always, was perfect. The mini-sub popped out through the hole in the roof and shot away to the surface exploding into the light of a wonderful day. Peter checked his air gauges and saw that he had made it with only minutes to spare.
As Peter exploded out of the bath, his mother walked in and squawked in fright. “What are you doing?” she asked. “Oh, nothing,” Peter replied with a grin. “Well, if your finished with your bath, dinner is ready.” “Sure mum. I’ll be down in just a minute.”
Peter was coming down the stairs in his pyjamas to have dinner when he heard the phone ring. He couldn’t hear what was being said and didn’t really care. He was thinking about all the fun he had been having through the day. Boy am I going to have some fun tomorrow, he thought.
As he sat at the table his mother answered the phone. “That was your father,” said Peter’s mum. “Dad wanted me to tell you that the game console was not broken after all. It was just dirty and needed a service. He will be bringing it home tonight to set it up again. You can play it tomorrow if you want.”
Peter looked up at his mother with a strange gleam in his eyes and said, “No thanks mum. I’ve already got plans for tomorrow. I don’t think I’ll play with the game console.” Smiling broadly to himself and thinking about the adventures he would have tomorrow.
Later that evening, when Peter was in bed asleep, his mother and father were sitting in the family room. Peter’s father noticed that his wife appeared very satisfied and happy. He said, “What’s with the smile?” She replied, “Peter has rediscovered his imagination. He had so much fun today without the game console. Thank you for taking it to be fixed.” With that she snuggled into his arms and said, “Let’s go check on him and go to bed.”
{ 1 comment… read it below or add one }
I love this! this is too perfect for my little boy…
thank you!