Short (Silly) Story: Super Mildred

Mildred Ruddle left the cinema with a smile on her face. Superman had saved the day. She tried to emulate his “truth, justice and American way”. Like Clark Kent, Mildred also wore glasses and when she removed them something special would occur.

As she walked through the park her trench coat whipped in the wind. Being above average weight she wheezed as she struggled up the hill. A sudden gust blew open her trench coat revealing the red symbol beneath. She quickly covered herself and looked around to make sure no one had seen. If her enemies knew her true identity they would endeavour to use her superpowers for evil.

Up ahead a homeless man sat against a tree. He nodded his thanks as Mildred gave him five dollars. Out of nowhere a black stream zoomed by his ear. It clawed into the bark of the tree and vanished up into its leaves.

“Buttercup! Come down here. You know I can’t reach you from up there.”

Mildred turned to see an elderly woman hobbling towards her. Her arm was outstretched to a high branch where a dark little moggy perched watching her.

“Buttercup, we don’t want the firemen to come again, do we?” the elderly woman pleaded.

The tramp craned his neck at the commotion. The elderly woman was visibly upset. She tried lifting her walking stick to reach the cat but Buttercup merely observed her.

This is it, Mildred thought. This is my chance to show my superpowers.

Stepping back from the scene, Mildred ran around a bush and took off her glasses. She unbuckled her belt and the trench coat opened revealing what was underneath.

“Don’t worry, madam. Super M is here to save the day.”

The elderly lady gasped as Mildred strode into view. Though she had little money, Mildred thought her costume looked the part. Sewn together from old dresses, the flowing red cape and blue and red top shone in the sun. The shorts were a little tight, though, and Mildred tried not to fidget as she wobbled to the base of the tree.

“Buttercup is as good as rescued, madam,” Mildred said with her hands on her wide hips.

The elderly lady and the homeless man both watched as Mildred lifted her foot. She tried to set it into a notch in the bark but her thigh was stopped by a large roll of fat on her stomach. Undeterred, Mildred leaped high to grab hold of a low hanging branch. With a mighty roar, she lifted herself up and lashed out her legs to grip the trunk. Sweat poured down her face but Mildred was determined. She gripped onto another branch and somehow managed to climb the tree.

“Good day, Buttercup. It’s time to be returned to your owner.”

Buttercup eyed the strange stranger as Mildred proceeded to climb towards her. It was a long way down but she couldn’t reveal her ability of flight yet. No, the world would watch that on TV one day. Mildred reached out her hand. The cat was a fingertip away. Come on, she thought. Everyone’s watching.

A small crowd had gathered. Two little boys with baseball bats gawked up at the rotund woman in a silly costume trying to grab a cat. The elderly lady’s mouth dropped open as Buttercup took a clawed swipe at the crazy lady but she didn’t back down. With a sudden leap, the nutcase in red had Buttercup by the collar.

“I’ve got him, I’ve got him!” Mildred shouted. Buttercup was hoisted by the neck into the air like a trophy and waved to Mildred’s adoring fans. The cat hissed and clawed as she made her way back to the tree and started her descent. Shimming down, Mildred wiped away the flood of sweat from her forehead and presented the cat to its owner.

“No need to thank me, madam,” Mildred said as the elderly lady went to speak. “It’s all in a day’s work for a superhero.”

With that Mildred ran off towards the bushes. She put on her trench coat and donned her glasses and waltzed back to the scene.

“What, what did I miss?” Mildred panted. “I heard a superhero saved a cat? Did I miss her?”

The homeless man, the elderly lady, and the two little boys said nothing as Mildred wiped the sweat from her brow. A red cape was clearly visible dangling by her ankles.

“I hear she’s called Super M,” Mildred said. “Maybe next time I’ll get to meet my hero.”

And with that, she turned and walked off knowing that her job here was done while Buttercup tore up the tree again.


Author’s Note: Mildred is actually a character in The Pan Piper

Short Story: The Magic Trick

The End

I blink but all I see is white. It’s like I’m in heaven but my body is frozen in time. I’m shaking but not from fear. My arm is sore with what looks like welts in the skin.

Where am I? I turn and see a dark shadow bounding towards me. Is that a wolf? I try to run but it’s too slippy and I fall as the cold and teeth of the beast rip into me. My final cries are deafened by my own voice.

‘Where is everyone and how in the hell did I get up here?’

The Start

“Welcome onto the stage…”

The magician shoved the microphone under my nose. I blinked, blinded by the spotlights and the stares from the front rows.

“Uh, Stan.”

“Great to have you volunteer, Uh Stan. Or is that Stan Uh as in Stan Uh and take a bow?”

His grin gleamed like the polished ivories of a grand piano while the audience gave a courteous laugh. I wasn’t sure whether to join in so I just nodded. His assistant Suzie lead me to the side while the spotlights converged on the Great Galzon.

“While trekking through Tibet as a wandering vagabond I discovered an ancient temple buried deep within a snowy summit of the Himalayas. There I entered a monastery of monks who had unearthed the secrets of the gods. By gaining their trust I shared in their sacred knowledge and tonight I want to reveal that mystery to you.”

The lights split into two as the curtain behind us raised. A tacky mock-up of a rugged mountain range appeared. Two ledges made of plasterboard lay on either side of the stage and between them was a drop into an abyss.

“Those monks faced starvation amongst the blizzards and ravenous beasts. To reach the valley below they had to risk their lives by travelling over the mountaintops. Yet utilising their magic arts they discovered a way to traverse over space and time in an instant!”

He snapped his fingers into the microphone which made me lurch in surprise. Suzie held me fast.

“Tonight I will use those incantations to vault our volunteer. He will reappear fully formed more than twelve feet away in a moment of time.”

The Great Galzon spun on his heel to face me.

“Stan, we have never met before tonight?”

“Uh, no,” I stammered.

“And you have complete faith in my abilities to evaporate your body…”

“Evaporate?” I began but he continued:

“…then reform it in precisely the same condition over there?”

Before I could speak Suzie ushered me onto the plasterboard while Galzon skipped to the other ledge. He dropped to one knee before drawing up a black, velvet curtain. Suzie did likewise but the curtain stopped at my waist. Galzon pressed his finger to his lips to quieten the crowd.

“I have only attempted this feat with live animals. Most of them reappeared in one piece.”

Suzie dug her nails into my arm as I tried to leave.

“Stan on the count of three, then? One. Two. And three.”

Suzie whipped up the curtain shielding all the light. A split second later and it was bright again. Except she was no longer holding my arm.

The applause thundered as I stood there bemused. The Great Galzon dropped the curtain at my feet and strutted out to take his bow. Suzie waved from twelve feet away on the other ledge while I waited for someone to explain what had happened.

All alone now in the Great Galzon’s dressing room, I stood by the dressing table while the autograph hunters finally left. Suzie shut the door while Galzon removed his hat.

“So what happened?” I said.

Galzon wiggled to get out of his outfit. “What do you mean, Stan?”

“Don’t put on an act with me,” I said. “What happened tonight?”

“You’re here in one piece aren’t you?”

I placed my hands on my hips, reassured they were still there.

“Where did he go? He was supposed to meet us backstage by the trapdoor.”

Freddie Galzoni tore off his fake moustache and spun on his chair.

“Stan, your twin brother probably got himself drunk and split. Don’t worry about it. He’ll turn up somewhere.”

I blink but all I see is white. It’s like I’m in heaven but my body is frozen in time. I’m shaking but not from fear. My arm is sore with what looks like welts in the skin.

Where am I? I turn and see a dark shadow bounding towards me. Is that a wolf? I try to run but it’s too slippy and I fall as the cold and teeth of the beast rip into me.

Why am I alone and how in the hell did I get all the way up here?

Short Story: The Bridge

I walk along the bridge. It’s raining, the river gushing in torrents beneath me. Through the darkness, I notice a car parked up ahead. When I get closer I see there’s no driver. I hear crying and as I glance over the side I see a young man on the ledge ready to jump.

Back off otherwise I’ll do it, he yells.

The rain rattles down around us and the river has flooded its banks. I remain where I am and keep silent. The young man watches me but sees I’m no threat. He turns to the river but can’t seem to focus.

Why are you here? he shouts.

I ask him the same question. He snorts. Says I wouldn’t understand. I say I probably wouldn’t, never been known for my brains, but something seems up.

Off? he says and shakes his head. This morning I lost my job. When I went home early I found my wife in bed with my best friend. I dragged him out and put him through a wall. My wife called the cops and now I’m wanted for assault.

The young man is gasping. He can’t go home and has no one to turn to. So he turns to the bridge.

I listen as the rain pours down and the river rushes by. The young man waits for me to reply and gets annoyed when I don’t. He asks me again why I’m here. I tell him he doesn’t want to hear my problems. He says I’m right and turns back to the river. I stay put. He’s shivering. Okay, he says, just tell me.

I ask him if that’s his car. He nods. I say I have a best friend too. He had a car just like yours, all shiny and red. Red ones go faster, I say. He looks perplexed. What’s that got to do with anything? he says. I nod at the pillar beside him.

My friend was drinking like usual and never wore a seatbelt. Thought they were sissy. Except for some reason that night he did. When the car crashed the belt bit into him as the bonnet ripped apart. Broke three ribs and took a year to recover.

So why are you here? the young man asks.

I give a sad smile. My friend wasn’t the only one in the car that night. He insisted nobody wore a seatbelt while he was driving and that included his beautiful wife and two little girls. Ally and Polly died in an instant but Doris, well she ended up in there.

I point at the gushing torrents. The young man looks down and nearly loses his footing. I jerk out my hand and grab his arm. He holds fast to the rail and shrugs me away. I stand back but I know he’s listening.

My friend tried to battle it for years, the guilt I mean. But every night their screams stopped his sleep. Not even the drink could drown them out. On the anniversary he’d come here. He’d stand on that exact spot you’re on now and he’d stare at where his wife flew through the air.

The young man didn’t dare look at the river again. But why are you here? he asks.

I guess I’m the only one who cares enough to try and stop him. Tonight’s the anniversary. It happened on the stroke of eight. Every year he comes walking along this bridge, steps over the rail and stands on that ledge. He keeps a photo of them in his jacket pocket and takes it out to kiss them goodbye. But every year I’d come to stop him from doing what I’m guessing’s in your heart to do too.

The young man checks his watch. Where is he then? It’s almost eight.

He’ll be along soon, I say.

The young man isn’t sure what to do. I see a mixture of emotions through the rain and tears.

Son, it isn’t any of my business but are you going to jump or not? You see my friend may try somewhere else if he sees your car. Besides, you’re young enough to meet another woman, make new friends and get a job that you love. Maybe even raise a family like the one my friend lost. It’s too late for him and I’m not sure even I can save him tonight. Let’s not fill that river with more bodies than needs be, eh?

I reach out my hand. The young man’s eyes flit between me and the river. His fingers entwine my wrist. I grab hold and drag him onto the bridge. The rain eases. The young man is kneeling and crying into his palms. I place my hand on his shoulder.

Go and check-in to a nice hotel. There’s one down the road. I take all the cash from my wallet. Here, that’ll help you get back on your feet.

He wipes away the water from his face and rises to take the money. As he stumbles to his car he stops and turns.

You saved my life. I hope you can save your friend again.

As he drives away I turn to face the other end of the bridge. There’s no sign of anyone. I walk to the spot of the accident and rub the metal railing.

Seven years ago tonight.

I reach into my jacket pocket. There they are, all smiling, all alive.

I step onto the ledge and hold the picture of my wife and children to my lips. With one final kiss goodbye, I jump leaving the bridge behind forever.

THE END