The Singing Ape

by Justin D'Ath

But he was a thirteen-year-old kid who had lifted an elephant.

  And who was now holding up a helicopter!

  Strong as he was, though, Colt weighed only forty-eight kilograms. The helicopter and its two passengers weighed over a tonne. It spun him round and around like a human gyroscope. It made him dizzy; it made the soles of his feet burn inside his shredded sneakers; but he didn’t let go. He held the huge, spinning helicopter safely above the heads of the frozen crowd. He kept it level so its flashing rotor blades didn’t turn them to mincemeat.

  Finally, the helicopter stopped spinning. And so did Colt.

  His body began to tremble from the superhuman effort of holding it up. His eyelids started to droop, his vision became dim.

  He collapsed.

  And the 1300 kilogram helicopter fell on top of him.

  The Air Ambulance had flown Colt to a big hospital about eighty kilometres from the circus. His mother drove over to visit him twice every day. This morning she’d brought Birdy with her, then gone off to do some shopping.

  Birdy showed him an article she had found in the virtual newspaper. It was six days old. She said the story had been on all the HV news reports, too. But Colt had been in a coma for four days, so he’d missed them.

  ‘Do you want me to read it to you?’ she asked.

  Colt reached weakly for the VN. ‘I’ve got a broken back, Birdy. There’s nothing wrong with my eyes.’

  He looked at the shimmering holopic. It showed the crashed helicopter in the middle of the circus car park and people running everywhere. It must have been taken just moments after Colt blacked out.

  A smaller holopic showed some firemen and paramedics freeing his unconscious body from under the helicopter.

  Miracle Survival, the headline said.

  It didn’t feel like a miracle, and it hardly felt like survival. Colt was paralysed from the waist down. He couldn’t move his legs, his feet or his toes. He couldn’t even feel them!

  He would probably never be able to walk again.

  He read the article all the way through. It described how the helicopter had crashed into the crowded car park and only one person, Colt Lawless (13), had been injured.

  There was nothing about how he came to be under the helicopter when it crash-landed.

  ‘I guess no one saw what really happened,’ he said. ‘They must have all been looking up at the helicopter.’

  ‘You were so fast!’ said Birdy. ‘Even I hardly saw you!’

  Neither of them spoke for a few moments. The machine monitoring Colt’s heartbeat made its steady beep, beep, beep.

  Birdy placed a hand on Colt’s arm. ‘You should tell them what happened. How you saved all those people.’

  ‘Who would believe me?’ he said glumly, staring up at the muted HV where a bunch of kids about his age were doing bombs into a swimming pool.

  ‘I’d tell them you weren’t making it up,’ said Birdy.

  He shook his head. Even that was difficult. His x-rays showed damaged nerves all the way up his spine. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

  ‘But you can’t keep it secret, Colt. You’re a hero!’

  He didn’t want to be a hero if it meant spending the rest of his life paralysed. ‘I wish I hadn’t done it,’ he whispered.

  ‘It’s horrible what happened to you,’ Birdy said. ‘But you saved everyone, Colt. You probably saved me!’

  He forced himself to smile. ‘Well, I’m glad about that part.’

  ‘I’m pretty glad, too.’ She leaned down close to his face – for a second he thought she was going to kiss him! – and whispered, ‘You’re not just a hero, Colt, you’re a superhero!’

  It almost seemed true. Only a real superhero could have done what he’d done.

  But superheroes didn’t end up in hospital!

  A nurse came to change one of his drips. There were tubes and wires plugged into him everywhere. She pulled a curtain around the bed and told Birdy to wait outside.

  ‘When can I have some food?’ he asked.

  ‘This is all the food you’re allowed for now,’ said the nurse, connecting a bag of cloudy white liquid to one of his tubes.

  That wasn’t food!

  ‘Can you do me a favour?’ Colt asked Birdy when the nurse had gone.

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Next time you come to see me, sneak in some food.’

  ‘But you’re not supposed to eat,’ she said.

  A sign hanging from Colt’s bed-head said: Nil by Mouth. It meant he was only supposed to be fed through tubes. Doctor’s orders. But Colt’s body was sending him a different message.

  ‘I’m famished,’ he whispered. ‘I think food will make me better.’

  Birdy leaned close again. ‘What shall I bring you?’

  ‘Anything!’ Colt’s mouth watered just thinking about it. ‘Power Bars, biscuits, cheese – even fruit! I’d kill for a burger.’

  Birdy looked worried. ‘Your mum mightn’t let me.’

  ‘See if you can get your mum to bring you,’ Colt said craftily. Birdy’s mother thought Colt was too skinny – even before the accident she’d commented on it.

  ‘And hide it all in a bag,’ he whispered, ‘so the nurses won’t see.’

  Birdy was back the very next day. But much to Colt’s disappointment, her hands were empty. She skipped over to his bed as if she was in a circus ring, not the Critical Care ward in a big hospital.

  ‘Guess what!’

  ‘How would I know?’ he shrugged, grumpy because she hadn’t brought food.

  ‘They found Caruso!’

  Colt’s heart monitor produced a series of very rapid, extra-loud beeps that made the nurse over at the nurses’ station look in their direction.

  ‘Really?’ he said.

  ‘Really,’ said his mother, who had walked in behind Birdy. ‘We had a phone call last night. Some forestry workers found him.’

  ‘Is he okay?’ Colt asked.

  ‘He’s very thin,’ Kristin said. ‘And he’s eaten something he shouldn’t have – toadstools, I think. They’ve made him a bit sick, but he’s responding well to treatment. I’ve been up all night taking care of him.’

  She did look a bit tired, Colt noticed. ‘What about rat flu?’ he asked.

  ‘There’s no sign of it,’ she said. ‘But I gave him a double RatVax, just in case.’

  ‘Isn’t it great news!’ said Birdy, taking hold of Colt’s hand.

  ‘It sure is,’ he said. For a whole minute he had even forgotten about his broken back. ‘I really thought he was dead.’

  ‘So did I, to be honest,’ said his mother. She leaned down and gave him a kiss. ‘Did you get a good night’s sleep, darling?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘If sleeping was in the Olympics, I’d win the gold medal.’

  Kristin laughed, but she looked sad, too. Then her face suddenly brightened. ‘Hey, I’ve brought you something!’ She fished a shiny, new Sky-reader out of her bag. ‘It’s connected to Skynet. You’ve got credits for over a hundred book downloads.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Colt, bringing his hands slowly up to grasp it. He was sick of watching HV all day. ‘But I might not be allowed to use it.’

  ‘Why not?’ his mother asked.

  ‘Some electrical stuff messes with the machines in here.’

  ‘I’ll go and ask.’

  Colt and Birdy watched her walk over to the nurses’ station.

  Birdy leaned in close. ‘I got you a present, too,’ she whispered, and slipped something under his sheet. ‘Sorry I couldn’t bring more, but your mum would have seen.’

  It was okay to use the Sky-reader. Colt’s mother showed him some of its features, and he tried to seem interested. He’d always loved reading but it was Birdy’s present that he really wanted to look at; well, to eat.

  He was worried she and his mother would hear his stomach rumbling in anticipation.

  Finally they had to go. Birdy was already late for school and Kristin had to get back to check on Caruso
. His mother kissed him goodbye and Birdy gave him a hand-squeeze. She also gave him a mischievous smile and whispered, ‘Enjoy your present.’

  He looked under the sheet as soon as they’d gone. It was a Power Bar. Yum!

  Colt waited until the nurse was busy at her computer, then he silently peeled off the wrapping and scoffed the Power Bar in half a dozen greedy bites.

  He had never eaten anything so good.

  But it was gone much too quickly. One Power Bar wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy his body’s ravenous craving for food. His stomach still ached with hunger. Colt lay back and stared miserably at the ceiling, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

  I’m going to be like this forever, he thought.

  Then something strange happened. At the other end of the bed, where Colt’s feet made two tent-like humps under the covers, there was a single, tiny twitch.

  When she came to visit him that afternoon, Colt’s mother seemed distracted.

  ‘What’s the matter, Mum?’ he asked.

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Officer Katt is making trouble again. Somehow she found out about what happened to Caruso. She’s taken more blood samples.’

  ‘They’ll be okay, won’t they?’

  ‘Who knows.’ Kristin shrugged helplessly. ‘He went three or four weeks without RatVax protection.’

  ‘But you gave him a double dose last night,’ said Colt.

  ‘Even so, if he’d picked up the virus in the last couple of days, there might still be traces of it in his blood.’

  And then the rat cops would put him down.

  ‘Is he in quarantine again?’ Colt asked.

  His mother nodded, then ran a hand through her hair. ‘Let’s hope his samples are clear.’

  Colt hated being stuck in hospital when Caruso’s life was hanging in the balance. He wanted to be there when the blood test results came back.

  He wouldn’t let the rat cops kill Caruso.

  ‘Mum, when will I be able to go home?’

  Kristin stared at him for several seconds without speaking. She had looked tired when she visited him this morning; now she looked positively exhausted.

  ‘I had a good long talk with Captain Noah today,’ she said finally. ‘We’re leaving the circus.’

  ‘No way!’ Colt cried, so loudly that the nurse frowned in their direction. He was supposed to stay quiet and calm. He lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘Mum, what are you talking about? The circus is our home!’

  ‘We can’t go on living in a caravan,’ she said.

  ‘Of course we can,’ he said. ‘It’s fun. And the animals need you.’

  His mother sighed. She leaned forward and grasped both his hands in hers. ‘Colt, my first responsibility is to you.’

  ‘So?’ he said.

  ‘You’re going to need special care,’ Kristin said gently. ‘Doctors, physiotherapy, access to specialists. We have to move to a big city like this one where they can look after people with disabilities.’

  ‘I haven’t got a disability!’ cried Colt.

  ‘Darling, your spine has been very badly damaged. It isn’t like breaking an arm or a leg. You’re going to have to be very brave.’

  I’ve already been brave, Colt thought. That’s why I’m in hospital. That’s why I’ll never walk again!

  Colt squeezed his eyes shut to stop the tears coming. And then he remembered the twitch. ‘I’m going to get better,’ he said quietly.

  After his mother had gone, Colt called the nurse and asked if it would be okay to send a text message. A sign on the wall warned people not to use their phones in Critical Care because they might interfere with the life-support machines. But there were no other patients today and the nurse said texting was probably okay. She got his wrist-phone out of the cupboard next to his bed and gave it to him, then went back to the nurses’ station.

  Colt wrote a message: BRING FOOD TOMORROW URGENT.

  Two minutes later Birdy’s reply came back.

  WILL TRY!

  Birdy came the following afternoon. But she was with Colt’s mother again.

  He had been expecting her to come with her own mother. In anticipation, he’d removed the Nil by Mouth sign and hidden it under his pillow.

  Kristin noticed it was gone. ‘Are you allowed to eat now?’ she asked loudly.

  Too loudly. ‘He certainly isn’t!’ said a voice from the nurses’ station.

  It was a new nurse – a very bossy one. She came over and looked behind the bed, then under it. Finally she found the sign tucked beneath Colt’s pillow.

  ‘It must have slipped down,’ he said innocently.

  She gave him a suspicious look. ‘No eating, young man. You’re getting all the nutrition you need from these little magic bags.’

  She pointed at the row of drips, attached to him by tubes and needles. They might have supplied nutrition but they weren’t food, and they certainly weren’t magic.

  I’ll show you magic, Colt thought, trying to catch Birdy’s eye.

  She’d brought her backpack. It looked full!

  ‘Did you bring those school books I wanted?’ he asked.

  Birdy made her face look serious. ‘They’re all in here,’ she said, placing the backpack next to his bed where he could reach it. ‘I’ll leave them for you to look at later.’

  He had to wait nearly three hours. Just as Birdy and his mother were leaving, a new patient was wheeled into the ward. He was put into the bed next to Colt’s and the bossy nurse kept coming over to check on him. The poor guy had even more drips, tubes and bandages than Colt did. He was trussed up like an Egyptian mummy.

  Finally Colt’s new neighbour seemed to fall asleep. The nurse dimmed the lights and padded back to her desk to do some paperwork.

  Colt reached down and slowly dragged Birdy’s backpack up onto his bed. He unzipped it and looked in. Shashlik! She must have raided a supermarket! There were lollies, muesli bars, donuts, biscuits, cheese slices, potato chips, bananas. There were even a couple of cans of Energy Cola to wash everything down. And there was a note with a smiley face at the bottom.

  Don’t eat it all at once!

  Colt did eat it all at once. But it was hard to enjoy his first proper feed in over a week because he had to eat everything so slowly. He held the Sky-reader in front of his face so it looked like he was reading, but every time a chocolate wrapper rustled or he crunched on a potato chip or an apple, the nurse would look suspiciously in his direction. Just as well the lights were dimmed.

  It was nearly ten o’clock at night by the time Colt had drained the second can of Energy Cola. He slid Birdy’s much-lighter backpack to the floor, turned off his Skyreader and pretended to go to sleep.

  But Colt wasn’t asleep. Far from it – he had never been more awake in his whole life. His skin tingled. There were bright, squiggly flashes, like little bolts of lightning, behind his closed eyelids. His legs began spasming and twitching.

  Beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep! went his heart-monitor, much too fast.

  The nurse heard it and hurried over to have a look. She put a hand on his forehead to check his temperature, then bent down and sniffed his breath.

  Colt opened his eyes. ‘Boo!’

  The nurse didn’t think it was funny. ‘Have you been eating?’ she asked sternly.

  ‘I was hungry.’

  ‘You aren’t allowed to eat!’

  ‘It’s too late now,’ Colt said.

  And sat up.

  The nurse shrieked in surprise. Patients in Critical Care never sat up! Especially patients with broken backs!

  Colt winked at her and put a finger to his lips. ‘Shhhh! Don’t wake the other guy.’

  The nurse just stood there with her mouth hanging open as Colt began removing the tubes and wires that were stuck all over him. It was surprising how many there were, and some of the places they went. Eeew!

  ‘Stop that!’ cried the nurse, suddenly coming back to life. ‘You aren’t allowed to do that!’

  ‘I’m not
a prisoner,’ Colt said. He undid a series of Velcro straps connected to some sort of back-brace that was supposed to stop him from moving. ‘Could you phone my mum, please, and ask her to come and take me home?’

  ‘I’ll do nothing of the sort!’ growled the nurse.

  Colt swung his legs to the floor and reached for his wrist-phone. ‘Then I’ll call her myself.’

  ‘You aren’t allowed to use that in here!’ she said.

  ‘I’ll go outside then,’ said Colt. ‘See you later.’

  He marched out of Critical Care, leaving the dumbfounded nurse standing there like someone who’d just seen a ghost.

  ‘I told you I’d get better,’ Colt said.

  They were driving home. Kristin kept repeating herself, but this time it wasn’t ‘No comment’.

  ‘I don’t understand it,’ she kept saying, tears in her eyes.

  Nobody understood it. Not even Colt. It was to do with his superpower somehow. And with food.

  Or maybe it was magic.

  But Colt didn’t believe in magic.

  ‘Like I said at the hospital,’ he told his mother for about the twentieth time. (He kept repeating himself, too.) ‘They must have got my x-rays muddled up with someone else’s.’

  It was the only explanation that people would believe, and Colt was sticking to it. Even if it wasn’t true. He was beginning to understand that if he wanted to be a superhero, he would have to keep lots of things secret. Otherwise everyone would be on his case – not just his mother and a few bossy nurses and confused hospital staff. He’d seen how the media behaved when they sniffed a news story.

  His whole life would turn into a reality HV show.

  I’ll need a disguise, Colt thought. Some sort of superhero outfit. I’ll discuss it with Birdy.

  But first there was the matter of food to sort out. He was hungry again, and very close to slipping back into one of his coma-like sleeping episodes. His body must have used up all its superhero energy to heal itself.

  The problem was solved when his mother pulled into an autoport to recharge the car. A Hot Food sign flashed on and off in the window.

  ‘Can I get something to eat?’ Colt asked.