Son.
It was a nice day as I cycled around our cul de sac on my recently acquired bike. I was getting comfortable with it even though it was quite small. Still, as I was only 6, what would I do with a big one?
The Webber brothers from across the road cycled up to join me. They were older than me and a bit rough but we’d always got on alright. “Do you fancy an adventure? We’re going to Southall Station, to the Devil’s Tunnel under the tracks, to hear the trains over our heads. Want to come with us”
I looked around – no mum or dad in sight and big sis was at school.
“ Yes please but your bikes are much bigger than mine so could I keep up?”
“No probs” said Martin Webber, “We’ll make sure you can keep up”.
So, off we went. Through the little park, over the bridge and along the road to the station. We explored around the station and found the Devil’s Tunnel. Into it we went and the huge steam trains thundered over our heads. Magic.
I didn’t know what time it was when we started back, having no watch, but the shadows were growing longer. The brothers pedalled their bigger bikes faster and I struggled to keep up. It seemed like forever before I saw familiar roads again and it almost six o’clock before we got home. Time flies when you’re having such fun.
Then mother called me………….
Mother
I got back from my shopping trip but there was no sign of Ken. I realised no bike either. Where was he? Time ticked by and Dad got home and we realised it was getting on for six o’clock. His sister had no idea where he was either and worry set in. Where on earth had he disappeared to? We searched around the streets, the shrubbery, the gardens of the other houses but nothing. As six o’clock arrived I was getting beside myself. He’d never done anything like this before. A disappearing act.
Should we call the Police and report missing? Should we wait a bit longer? What to do?
Father.
I got back home around five o’clock after a busy day to find alarums and excursions there. Our six year old son had gone missing, presumably on his bike as it was nowhere to be found. We looked all over our streets. Nothing. Mum was getting severely agitated by now and thinking about calling the police. I thought of getting the car out again but where would I look?
I decided to try but as I reached the car he appeared, pedalling hard, as the Webber boys cycled past across the other road to their house. It seemed clear they had been out together with our lad.
He reached, panting, and gasped “Sorry I’m a bit late Dad but we’ve been on an adventure.”
“Have you indeed?” I said. “Your mother has been worrying herself silly. Let’s get you inside for a little chat”.
Foootsoldier Says… 