Date: Fri, 19 Jun 1998 08:56:30 PDT From: "Lars M. Culverine" Subject: Kidnapping... part V KIDNAPPING THROUGH THE STREAM OF TIME by Lars M. Culverine (c) 1998 CHAPTER 5. The Three Packets All of a sudden we both returned back to Earth, to reality for a sound of an approaching van rumbled from outside. It stopped in front of the house and some seconds later a ring-bell by the door was pressed. I jerked realizing where I was: "They're here already!" I mumbled silently. Michael heard that and his eyes widened: "Who's here?" "The surprise's here, dummy, what else?" I smiled. "Yeah!" exclaimed the little one excitedly and was about to dart out direction main-door. I had to chill him out a bit again: "Hold on, hold on! You don't want to spoil the surprise, do you? Stay here for another little while, please! Ok?" "Oh, man!" the boy enlarged, faking annoyment, "you sure makin' a fuss over it!" He obeyed however, jumping back on the sofa again where he made himself comfortable and regained the joyful glare in his little eyes. I went to open. I received the cake-box, one small-sized packet, then a bigger one and finally a huge one. I made a subscribtion, filling in the CC-number, thanked, said good bye. Then I left all packets behind the corner in the hall and, after I got the safety-match box from the kitchen, I started to sneak silently to the living-room with the cake-box in my hand. "Would you please open the door? It looks like I'm too busy with all these things..." I called out loud. Long before I couldn't finish the words the door immediately opened wide and behind them the 'imp-patient' stood. His eyes radiating maximum pleasure, a tense expectation in his face visible, he playfully jumped all around me, attacking like a little puppy-dog. I layed the cake-box on the table and opened it. "Wow!" Michael's glaring emmeralds widened. He stared in awe on the flat cake made from sponge-biscuit, chocolate and cream, labelled: >>For Michael to his eleventh birthday<<... "Well, would you please help me a bit more now," I asked unpacking the cellophane-wrapped 11 candles that were enclosed to the birthday cake. I handed some candles to Michael, inserting the rest to the top of the cake and instructed the boy to insert softly his handful of candles, too, just like I did so that all 11 of them would create a nicely-shaped regular circle. Michael took a very serious expression in his face as he followed my instruction. He made it very carefully, he was anxious almost solicitously not to spoil the festive moment. When everything was done I reached out for the matches and lit the 11 candles, one after another. "It's so beautiful!" Michael breathed out in awe. He turned back to me wanting to say something but I hushed him by placing my finger on his lips. The boy got it and stopped. He apparently came to feel the marvellous and mysterious atmosphere that has already spread its wings all over the room. I wanted the boy to savour its delight as well as me and so we were sitting without a word spoken there just so for a while. The glimmering candle-light reflected in eyes and faces of us both, everything felt magical, mysterious and beautiful. Silently, just so as not to spoil the flickering spell, I said: "Well, Mikey, today is your big day, you're eleven today! I'm so glad that I can wish you Happy Birthday. But now close your eyes and make a wish in your mind." Little Michael immediately closed his eyes and forced himself to keep them locked. "Have you made your wish?" I asked silently. Michael nodded, his eyes still locked. "All right, you can open them," I said. The boy opened his eyes and blinked slightly, surprised by the sudden impact of bright light. "And now," I invited him, "now take a deep breath and blow out all the candles. If you make it with one exhale at once I'm sure your wish will be granted." Mikey nodded, took a deep breath and, with a long, endless exhale where he lost almost all of his power at the end he blew out all the flickering flames. He beamed and looked back at me. I smiled at him and reached out my hand. Michael took it and wrapped it into both of his boy-palms, we shook our hands and I said: "I wish you Happy Birthday, all the best, many happy returns of the day and all of your deepest wishes granted!" I sliced the cake and handed the very first piece to our little honoured one. Then I sliced another piece for myself and we munched. "Good?" I asked. "Uh-huh," Mikey answered, with an epicurean expression, "those sweeties I could eat all the time!" When we were finished the boy started to look around inconspicuously and to sidle impatiently. "What's up?" I asked with a desperately withheld need of chuckle. Michael smiled shyly and blurted out: "Well, you know... I thought... I'm gonna get some presents, too... But... if no presents, I don' mind, really!" I shrugged, looking rather embarassed as if I just have realized it too but it's been already too late: "Oh, the presents... um... I'm not sure we can do something about it..." I stood up and started to walk around the room, faking concern: "The presents,... well maybe there IS something here but where... where did I... Oh!" my face cleared, "I KNOW ALREADY!" After these words I suggested Michael to follow. We entered the hall where Michael to his greatest surprise descried all the packets wrapped in present-paper, binded over with bowstrings. I handed him the smallest one first: "Here, this is a present from me. It seems to be small but it's not the only one! There is still another a bit larger and then a big brother of those waiting for you! Come on, look at it!" The boy struggled with the silky paper for a while and then, after he has ripped it off and observed, what was wrapped in it, he looked very surprised and I couldn't resist a feeling that a sign of a great disappointment appeared in his face for a moment. "What's wrong? Don't you like it?" I asked. "Oh no, I do like it, it's nice," the boy answered, slightly embarassed, "really it is, but..." "But why just those boots'n'clothes, am I right?" I finished, smiling, adding in faking earnest: "Well, I don't know, you TOLD me you >>ain't get nothing but those new boots or clothes for your birthday<<. So I didn't want you to loose them..." I teased. Little Michael looked at me fiercely, as if IF I WAS SERIOUS ABOUT IT HE WOULD...!!! I laughed: "I'm sorry, forgive that nasty joke of mine, ok? I just thought I'd start with a little tease but I didn't know you would take it so seriously. Are you angry with me a lot?" The boy was silent for a while, stubborn and defiant. Then he sighed and smiled resignedly: "What else could I do, huh? 'Tis'a joke, i'n'it?" Then he looked at me reassuringly: "Oh, no, they're really, really great! I never had such nice boots'n'clothes!" "And when you put these on you can even normally walk among people. You know, you'd be very suspicious in the old clothes of yours. There has been long time since people were wearing something like that... Listen, do you fancy to put them on now to see if they suits you? You know, I ordered them sort of blindfold and we couldn't check it so that it was a surprise for you!" "O'right," Mikey agreed, "You gonna help me with it?" "Sure," I shrugged and handed to him the dark-blue T-shirt with yellow-and-red stripe and black elastic shorts. "Put this T-shirt instead of the white one that you're wearing now and those black elastics you can put on your gyms instead of your shorts," I said. "Ela- what?!" "Elastics, the elastical black shorts, this is how we call it," I explained. "I see," the boy said and put everything on. The T-shirt seemed to be a bit longer for him but not that much. Then I handed him the 'boots'. He raised his eyebrows in surprise: "Look, no shoe-laces!" "Oh it does have those," I said knowingly, "just put them on." He did it and slid into the snow-white Nike Airs with blue-purple rim-and-ankle stripe and looked at me, asking. I reached out and locked firmly all dry-zip tongues in it. Michael was astonished: "Wow, that's terrific! 'T doesn' need to lace 'em on!" "It's done," I said, stepping back to examine the boy. He looked like an average boy from neighbourhood now. The only difference between him and any other common boy was his breath-taking, child-innocent charm, a charm that was constantly burning me with an unbearable yet so exciting heat... I caught myself staring at the boy again in a speechless awe. I jerked, blinked and said: "Well I think you can unpack the bigger present now. But not the biggest one, let's keep that for the end." The boy ripped off the glistening paper impatiently and discovered a box with strange labels and pictures on. He opened it... and stared in surprise on its contents... He hadn't any slightest idea what was inside. "You have never seen things like that, huh?" I asked. The boy shook his head no, astonished, speechless. He still had no clue, so I added: "I think I'm going to help you with it." With these words I scattered the contents of the box on the floor. Any other present-time boy might have cheered now darting to the last big packet, obviously 'having a marvellous suspicion' what would that be in it. Not for Michael. He inspected, surprised but dense, huge rubber shields for elbows, knees and shoulders, he looked at a pair of smart gloves equipped with anti-slide surface and examined the glistening integral helmet with automatic skeleton-filler adjustment system, a perfect equipment for all-terrain bike-riding. "Well, I'm going to help you put all these on," I said. "Put on?" Michael asked, a bit disappointed, "these are sortta clothes again?" "Oh no," I laughed, "it's something more fun. These are shields!" And I fastened first of them to his knee. "Shields?" asked little Michael, sort of savouring the word he has obviously heard for the first time, "and what's that for?" "Well it's for... to protect injury during high-velocity falls," I said mysteriously, fastening both elbow-shields. "So, let's put on the helmet now, let's pull on the gloves and we're finished." "But, what do *I* need those ...um...shields for?" peeped Michael, still a bit disappointed but more curiously. "You're going to need them, you will see," I said definitely, "you have no clue how soon you will... now the helmet..." I opened the air valve. The boy jumped when he heard the short, sharp hiss as the soft foam mingled with air... in the next moment the hardened foam styrene copied softly all contours of his head creating a perfect protection shell that was able to damp excellently all ways of impact. It was a great novelty, rather expensive but why not to indulge it? "Ok, it's done! Come and have a look," I added and turned the boy to the mirror. His eyes widened, he was staring at himself all the time, turning his body and cocking his head so that he could see himself from all directions. Finaly he laughed: "I look like a Martian!" "All right, Martian," I said, "why don't you unpack the 'big one'? Maybe there's a rocket you will fly back to Mars with!" I didn't have to urge him, he ripped the paper almost immediately... and stunned, completely out of breath, like frozen on the place. THAT was the moment I was looking forward so much to. With a non-stiffled joy I observed what shock caused the first impression to him, he almost startled from what he saw. But then, then the expression in his eyes and face changed into the inimitable yet such magical, non-believing awe that slowly passed to the folowing explosion of maximal happiness and pleasure the intensity of which was so incredibly deep that I was moved almost to tears... "A bicycle, it's a BICYCLE!" Mikey exclaimed in delight and jumped on me in a restless, wild astonishment, he hugged me fiercely and then, overflooded by all that happiness, he started to sob silently... Moved, I hugged him back, I tenderly clasped him to my chest, I almost couldn't breathe from all my joy and love. I experienced the same feelings like the little Mikey, maybe not so intense but in spite of that it all seemed so powerful that even my eyes watered with tears. The boy let out a sob and looked at me, tears of joy running down his cheek: "You knew it! You knew it! I always wished I have a bicycle! Thank you! Thank you so much!" I can tell you, to experience the joy of a friend THIS close and beloved, it's something absolutely wonderful. How many times you have ever made someone happy and still you were THIS surprised by the feelings of joy, pleasure and happiness that were pure-heartedly expressed afterwards from both of you, am I right? A human being won't probably experience more similar feelings that would match or beat this. And I wasn't the exclusion... When the boy quieted down he started to observe enthusiastically his new big present. "Wow, what a beautiful bicycle!" he whispered shyly as if afraid that everything was only a dream that would disappear along with any audible sound. "You like it?" The boy could only nod, astonished, he turned to me with his glaring eyes: "And how come you knew I like red color?" "I risked that," I answered, smiling. "Lordy, having som'thin' like that in my times, all guys from the town 'd be green with envy," said Michael little bit louder. "I think that every boy all around the world would be green with envy there in your times because I'm sure nobody would have had such a great bike!" "You gonna teach me to ride it?" the boy blurted eagerly. "Sure, this is what are bikes for, to ride it!" I reassured him, "we can try it right now!" "Yes!" Mikey exclaimed, "le'ss go for it, pleez!" he pleaded, "I' never ridden'a bicycle!" "All right, let's go for it now. But first let's make some clean-up!" I said, "you gonna help me with it, aren't you? We'll be on the road to ride as soon as it's finished!" The boy nodded eagerly again. I helped to take off his helmet and gloves sending him upstairs to make the bed and to find a place for his old clothes. Meanwhile I put the cake into the fridge and cleared the table. When I was finished I went upstairs to have a look on Michael 'working' in the bedroom. I was very positively surprised how perfectly the bed was made and all things approprietly laid. Hmmm, it looks like the orphanage's correct behaviour education system obviously wasn't lost in vain in Mikey's case, I admitted, smiling. I told to Michael to push his bike outdoors and to wait for me as I was going to come right there too. Another big question-mark appeared in Michael's face again but he obeyed. Meanwhile I went down to the garage and, to Mikey's greatest surprise, when the garage gate opened I pushed out my blue-silver KingFox MTB, my trusty bike I haven't been riding since I got my very first driving licence which was almost five years ago! I locked the garage door and leaned my MTB against the fence. "Well, Michael, this is MY bike. I will ride it and I'm gonna be your support, your guardian and your instructor!" "Who?" Michael immediately asked, when he registered other words again that he has never heard before. "Well, the instructor, the ride teacher," I explained, "I will have to give you lots of advice. You know, riding a bike is easy but it could last long before you'll really have mastered it all. Both these bikes aren't just those common ones. They were constructed this way because their inventors designed them to ride in the heaviest conditions. You will pass through every kind of terrain with it!" "Wow," Mikey breathed out in awe. He was touching the broad wheels on his bike with his fingertips, running them over the black surface of the all-terrain patterned tires. I noticed that and commented: "With those wheels you'll be able to run through mud, sand, water, snow, ice, whatever!" Then I advised him to observe me carefully and after a summary of short instructions I saddled my KingFox and rode it more times there and back to perform everything in-natura for Michael. Then I helped him to saddle his beautiful new BMX assisting him during his very first ride in his lifetime. I must admit I made a very good choice when I bought all those shields for him because little Michael, like any other boy of his age, was too eager, easily over-estimating his own powers. As soon as he jumped into the saddle, as soon as he balanced and hit the pedals for the first time in his life, to his surprise he immediately started out with a twisty-turving motion. He cheered, hit the pedals again and darted forward. And just as I was about to warn him to slow down he forced himself to turn back to me, still sitting in the saddle, and looked at me with the winning expression: look, how good I am! But in the next moment he lost his balance, he lost control over the bike as he desperately twitched the handle bars... and he wallowed on the ground! More dozen of medicars presented by me and my silver-grey MTB immediately approached to the place of the accident. I reached out. Michael was getting up, slowly, dusting himself. He was all right, thanks God, and so was the bike. What wasn't all right however, was the boy's offended vanity. Stubborn, he refused my help and started pushing his bike slowly back home. I jumped down from the saddle and joined him. No reaction from the boy. Not even any look-ats. Tenderly, friendly I embraced him round his shoulders and started to explain what was wrong, where he did the mistake. Michael eventually released his stubborness, his offended vanity was lost forever and he couldn't wait to launch his second try. Memorizing my advice, he did much more better, he managed to stop on his own. And so we tested and rode, I can't say how long, maybe half an hour maybe the whole hour but finally we were both honoured by the pleasurable sensation of victory, as Mikey himself positioned into the saddle, started out, turned left, right, back, trampled the pedals into frantic pace and hit the brakes brilliantly no more than a feet from me. He breathed heavily, excitedly, his little boy-heart pulsed rapidly, his cheeks were in flame and eyes were lit from his wild astonishment. He smiled knowingly: "Well?" I smiled back: "It was perfect!" "Well it's quite easy to ride a 'bike-cycle'. Really it is! I never thought it'd be this easy!" "Say easy, huh?" I smiled, "I feel like this is the right time for the final trial. Let's check all that you have learnt until now. Follow me and you'll see!" "Where do we gonna go?" the boy asked. "We'll try the Path of Death!" I answered mysteriously. "Hit your pedals, we're gonna go downhill!" I called out, darting forward. We changed the main road against the footpath leading to the stone pit nearby, where the former bicross track was hidden. It actually has been used to race on rarely, forest grass slowly grew over, but it was still capable to afford many adventures to numerous young enthusiasts.