by Ade Adepitan
“This should be good,” said Brian excitedly.
“Yeah,” I agreed, standing up. “We’ll be really close to … owwww!” I sat back down with a thump.
“What is it, Ade?” Shed asked.
“My leg. It really hurts. I … I don’t think I’m going to be able to do this.”
I looked up at the others. We all knew what this meant.
It was time for the wheelchair.
15
Things Get VERY Chairy
“SIR, please, sir,” said Brian. “Is it right that goats have four stomachs, sir?”
“What?” said Mr Hurst.
“I read that goats have four stomachs, sir. How can that be possible?”
“I don’t know, Brian. I’m not a goat expert. Maybe you can ask the keeper.”
“Yes, I will, sir. And sir, is it true that goats’ eyes are rectangular, sir?”
Brian knew the answers to all these questions, of course, because he’d done the research. He was doing his best to distract Mr Hurst while Shed and Melody went round to the luggage compartment and got the wheelchair.
I was sitting on a wall with Dexter outside the petting zoo and finding it very funny watching Mr Hurst get more and more exasperated.
“For goodness sake, Brian, I really don’t know whether goats have teeth on their upper jaw. As I’ve said to you about fifteen times, ask the keeper!”
“Yes, sir, I will, sir,” said Brian. “Just one more question, sir … oh no, it’s okay, sir. I’m done now.”
“Thank goodness,” said a relieved Mr Hurst. “Now go and join the – What on earth?”
Shed and Melody were wheeling the chair around the coach.
“Shezhad, Melody, what is this? What’s going on?”
“It’s a wheelchair, Mr Hurst,” said Shed.
“Yes, thank you, Shezhad,” said Mr Hurst. “I can see it’s a wheelchair, but why is it here and what are you doing with it?”
“It’s for me, Mr Hurst.”
Mr Hurst swung round to look at me sitting on the wall.
“My leg is hurting a lot, sir, and my back is really aching, so I need it to get around. But I won’t be a nuisance in it, honestly.”
Mr Hurst stroked his chin and thought for a few moments.
“I’m sure you won’t, Ade, but this is more than a little unexpected. It would have been nice to have known about it before we arrived today.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but if we’d told anyone I might not have been able to come, and I really didn’t want to miss the trip.”
“Okay,” Mr Hurst said. “You’d better get in it, I suppose, but wait here a moment. I need to speak to the other teachers about this.”
“What do you think’s going to happen?” asked Dexter, as I got into the wheelchair and Mr Hurst went off to find the others.
“I think it might rain,” I replied.
“Oh no,” said Dexter. “I meant about you and the wheelchair.”
“I know, you lemon,” I said to Dexter. To be honest, I didn’t know what was going to happen, so I was trying to act unconcerned.
“They can’t send you home, can they?” said Brian. “So everything is going to plan.”
“Yeah, but they could make me sit on the coach for the rest of the day. And who knows what’s going to happen when we get back to school.”
The next couple of minutes were spent in silence as we all waited anxiously for Mr Hurst to return.
“Okay, Ade,” he said, when he did come back. “First things first, I’ve spoken to someone from the safari park, and as far as they are concerned there is no problem with you being in a wheelchair.”
That was good news.
“However,” he went on, “we will have to speak very seriously about this when we get back to school. Obviously I will have to let Mrs Bolton know what has happened, and no doubt she will speak to your parents about the matter and the best way to proceed.”
That was not such good news. Dad was not going to be happy when he found out.
“For now, though,” Mr Hurst said, “you can carry on. Off you go, you’ve got a worksheet to complete.”
This was the best result we could have hoped for, I suppose. I put the thought of Dad and Mrs Bolton out of my mind.
“Yes, sir,” I said. “Thank you, sir.”
As I wheeled myself in through the entrance, the place went silent. Well, there was still the odd squawk and quack from the animals but the children all stopped chattering. It reminded me of an old cowboy film I’d watched with Dad, when someone walked into a noisy saloon bar and suddenly it went really quiet.
Everyone stared at me in the wheelchair like I was an alien. I felt very uncomfortable, as if I was the one in a zoo.
It wasn’t long until someone broke the silence.
“Fancied a sit down, did you? Because your little baby legs are tired.”
It was Spencer, of course.
“That’s enough of that, Spencer,” said one of the other teachers sternly. “It’s lunch in fifteen minutes and I want those worksheets completed by then.”
Gradually people got back to what they’d been doing, but I was still aware of sideways glances in my direction. I knew that they were talking about me.
“Don’t worry,” said Melody. “They’ll get used to it pretty quickly. Come on, let’s go and see the chickens.”
“Ah you mean, Gallus gallus domesticus,” shouted Brian, running after her.
“No, Brian, she means chickens,” I said, weaving round the other kids smoothly and easily.
Despite the stares and a few other snide comments from Spencer, we had a great time in the petting zoo, but we were more than ready for food when the time came. The teachers handed out the packed lunches and we sat outside in a picnic area.
“I feel terrible,” said Dexter, as we were tucking into our sandwiches.
“What’s the matter?” asked Shed. “Are you feeling ill?”
“No,” he said. “Mum’s made me chicken sandwiches. I could be eating a brother or sister of one of the chickens we’ve just seen.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Or a mum or dad. You can usually tell by the smell, though.”
“What do you mean?” asked Dexter.
“Well, chickens who are related smell similar, isn’t that right, Brian?”
“Oh yes,” said Brian, chomping his way through a cheese roll. “Definitely, yeah, I read about it.”
“So have a sniff of your sandwich, Dex, then go back to the petting zoo and if there’s the same smell near the chickens in there, chances are you are eating one of their relatives.”
“Good idea,” said Dexter, opening up his sandwich and taking a big sniff.
The rest of us fell about laughing. It was great to be having fun again, and we would have carried on messing about, but just then we heard a commotion coming from the Creepy Crawly House. Someone was running out in a panic. They had a bag with them and whatever was inside it was falling out onto the floor, making quite a clattering sound.
I wheeled myself closer to get a better look. As I did so, I saw that the person had bright red hair.
“It … it’s Emily,” I said, a little shocked.
Melody could see what I had seen.
“Yeah, and look what’s falling out of her bag,” she said. “Spray cans.”
“And who do we know that would carry spray paint?” Brian said, catching on.
“Emily?” I said in disbelief. “Emily is the Night Spider?”
“A girl?” said Dexter.
“But why?” I said. “What would Emily have against me?”
None of us knew the answer to that, but we were about to find out. Emily was running towards us, more spray cans falling out of her bag like a trail behind her.
“Emily!” shouted Mr Hurst. “What were you doing in the Creepy Crawly House? What is going on?”
In between gasps of breath, Emily said, “I was trying to get hold of a spider, but it’s escaped. But it’s not my
fault. It’s his.”
She was pointing at me.
“My fault?” I said. “What are you talking about?”
“Yes, what exactly are you talking about, Emily?” repeated Mr Hurst. “Why did you want a spider?”
“I was going to put it in his pocket.” She turned to me, her eyes flashing. “That’s why I pretended to like you on the coach, so I could get close enough to do it. Then, when you put your hand in your pocket, it would bite and you’d be poisoned. You wouldn’t be able to use your hand!”
“But why do you want me not to use my hand?” I asked, baffled.
“So that you’d know what it was like. When you pushed me down the stairs during the fire alarm I thought I’d never be able to paint or draw again. I wasn’t going to let you get away with that!”
Suddenly it all made sense. Emily was the girl I’d fallen into on the stairs, the one who’d ended up with her arm in a sling. I hadn’t recognised her because she’d dyed her hair red and was wearing glasses.
“But that was an accident, Emily. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I don’t care,” she said. “You should have been more careful. You’ve no idea what it’s like not to be able to do what you love. If you –”
I was about to point out that being in the wheelchair gave me a pretty good idea, actually, but before I had time to speak, Brian had interrupted.
“Hang on a minute,” Brian said. “Why did you come running out of the Creepy Crawly House like that? What’s so scary about an escaped spider, anyway?”
It was a good question. A very good question.
A stony frown came over Emily’s face. She stared at Brian.
“I got it out of its tank, but as I was trying to put it in my bag, the tarantula wriggled away from me, so I panicked.”
“Wait,” said Brian, who was having the exact same realisation as everyone else at the exact same moment. “You mean … there’s a deadly tarantula on the loose?”
16
Ta-Ra, Tarantula
BRIAN’S words were the cue for chaos.
Kids started screaming and standing on the picnic tables while the teachers did their best to keep control.
“Everybody keep calm!” Mr Hurst bellowed.
He might as well have been speaking Martian. Most of the children were terrified and took no notice of him.
Even Spencer had lost his usual swagger and was screaming at the top of his voice, “We’re all gonna die!”
But not me. I had only one thing on my mind. I knew exactly what to do.
Cyborg Cat, it’s time to show the world your awesome powers.
I pushed down on my wheels and headed off in the direction of the Creepy Crawly House. I was buzzing with energy and the chair seemed to be pulsating as well. I didn’t know it if was feeding off me or I was feeding off it.
“Ade!” shouted Shed. “Stop! Where are you going?”
“I’m not scared of any spider, whether it’s a Night Spider or a tarantula,” I shouted back. “It’s time for Cyborg Cat and the Parsons Road Gang to sort this out!”
“Er, did you say the Parsons Road Gang are going to sort this out?” I heard Dexter say. And before I could answer I heard Melody reply.
“Yes, he did! Because the Parsons Road Gang always stick together,” she shouted. “Hang on, Ade, we’re coming!”
They caught up with me, but not all of them looked particularly pleased about it.
“Stay close and keep quiet,” I told them. “If we’re too noisy, the tarantula might make a run for it, and who knows where it’ll end up then.”
They stayed behind me, and I could sense their hearts pounding at a million beats per second. It was like all my Cyborg Cat senses were amplified. We got to the Creepy Crawly House. There were spray cans all over the place.
“Don’t tread on any of them,” I whispered to the others, weaving to avoid a can. “We don’t want them to explode.”
Slowly but stealthily we moved around, keeping our eyes peeled for the tarantula.
I didn’t actually know if the spray cans would explode, I’d just said it. I was Cyborg Cat. I knew I needed to take charge and keep everyone quiet now we were so close. It was as if my senses were tingling. The tarantula was nearby, but I wasn’t sure exactly where.
If we don’t find the spider soon it might escape completely.
Suddenly I felt a surge of power. It seemed to go through me and into the wheelchair.
What’s happening?
The next thing I knew, the chair had taken on a life of its own. MY LIFE! It was like nothing I’d ever experienced. When I’d felt myself becoming Cyborg Cat before, something had been holding me back. But now the wheelchair and I were one, thinking with one brain.
I let the chair guide me over to the side of the Creepy Crawly House. Using my sharp Cyborg Cat vision, I focused in on the area near to a drainpipe. Sure enough, there, under the bottom of the drainpipe, I could just see two hairy legs sticking out.
“I see it,” I whispered to the others. “Someone give me their coat.”
Spiders like the dark. If I can get a coat over it, I should be able to pick it up.
“Dex,” I heard Brian say.
“What? Why me? Mum will kill me if it gets dirty. Shed, give Ade your coat.”
“Okay, hang on,” said Shed.
“Come on, quickly,” I hissed.
“I can’t get the zip undone,” moaned Shed. “It’s stuck.”
“Unbelievable,” said Melody. “Here, Ade.”
The chair guided me as smoothly and easily as if it was a hovercraft gliding over water. Another few metres and I would be close enough to …
Rattle rattle pssssssssssssssssss!
Brian had accidentally kicked a spray can! The noise echoed loudly around the walls.
I turned to see the tarantula scurrying out from its hiding place towards … oh no … it was heading out of the door and towards the picnic area!
It was pandemonium again. Things outside had only just calmed down when we all came racing back out of the Creepy Crawly House, hot on the heels of the tarantula. Now, children and teachers ran away as fast as they could, while others jumped back up onto the tables and screamed.
I surveyed the scene. It was awful, but at the same time, I had to laugh. True to form, on one of the tables, hollering at the top of his voice, was Spencer.
Focus, Cyborg, focus.
I steadied my gaze and scanned the area. I could see the spider. It had veered away from the picnic tables and was heading for the wall I’d been sitting on earlier. It stopped by a pile of leaves. Above it, resting on the wall, were three plastic flowerpots. An idea started forming in my mind.
I turned to the others. “How many people had sandwiches wrapped in tinfoil for lunch?”
They looked confused.
“Erm, I don’t know, Ade,” said Shed. “Quite a lot of us, I think.”
“Great,” I said. “Collect as much of it as you can and bring it to me. I’m going to keep an eye on the spider.”
I remained focused on the tarantula while the others raided the remains of the packed lunches. Fortunately the huge spider must have been tired from its exertions and stayed very still.
“Here you go, Ade,” said Dexter, passing me a big handful of foil.
The others brought more until I had enough for what I wanted to do. I scrunched a piece up, then covered it with more and more tinfoil until eventually I had a pretty big ball in my hands. It might not have been quite the size of a basketball, but it wasn’t too far off.
“I knew it!” said Brian. “I knew that’s what you were going to do.”
“Yeah, sure you did,” said Melody, raising her eyes.
Okay, this is it. One shot. One chance.
Slowly I moved towards the wall. I knew I couldn’t get too close or the spider would get scared and take off again, but I had to get as near as I could to give myself the best chance of success.
About ten metres away,
I stopped and took a deep breath. I raised the foil ball up, ready to throw it. I could feel my Cyborg Cat powers humming and I could sense the connection to the chair beneath me. It was as if it was waiting to tell me exactly the right moment to release the ball.
I pushed against the side of the chair with my hips. The chair started to move slowly; I did it again and this time the chair responded as if it knew what I was trying to do. We were truly working together now. I could make the chair move without using my hands. I was ready. It was time.
I pulled my hands back, then extended them forwards and released the ball.
I could tell that everyone was watching as the tinfoil ball arced through the air in a flash of silver. It clipped the outside of the first flowerpot, sending it into the second one. That flowerpot knocked into the third, which wobbled on the wall for what seemed like ages. Eventually, like a leaf falling from a tree, it tumbled down.
I held my breath as the flowerpot somersaulted in the air before landing perfectly on the pile of leaves, safely trapping the tarantula inside.
The whole school, children and teachers, cheered. It felt amazing. I was a hero! At that moment nobody cared that I was in a wheelchair. The only thing that mattered was that Cyborg Cat had saved the day. I gave the chair a gentle pat.
Thank you.
I felt the chair respond to me just like it had when we’d been pursuing the spider. As my friends came running up to congratulate me, I knew something special had just happened. The chair and I were a team now. I truly did have superpowers.
Later, after all the excitement had died down, we got back on the coach to go home. Mr Hurst insisted that Emily sit at the front with the teachers and I guessed she was going to be in big trouble back at school, not just for letting the tarantula loose, but for the spray paint cans and the graffiti too. I felt a little bit sorry for her, but at the same time I was glad the attention wasn’t on me and my friends sneaking the wheelchair onto the coach any more. Perhaps I wouldn’t get into trouble with Mum and Dad after all.