Sid in Space
Rosemary Bach-Holzer
Copyright © 2013 Rosemary Bach-Holzer
For Liam G,
my young assistant and critic.
Keep making sweet music back there in Berkshire.
Short Stories Volume One
Short Stories Volume Two
Short Stories Volume Three
Musings Amusing
Cat Tales
Sally and the Sign People
Enigma - Wolf Black
Chapters
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Foreword
The name of Rosemary Bach-Holzer first orbited around my brain a couple of years ago when she sent me a couple of humorous articles to publish on my www.cheerreader.co.uk website. I was immediately struck by her easy wit and sense of humour. Not only that, she could write!
She also mentioned that she was working on a story for children about a spider who wanted to go into Space, so I asked if I could read it. Being a generous sort of person, Rosemary sent me a draft copy, which, even in such an early form, told me she was onto something special, and here I am, some eighteen months later, feeling honoured to be writing this foreword.
So go on, launch yourself into Sid in Space, and enjoy this stellar-tastic adventure packed with humour and fun.
Brian David (www.cheerreader.co.uk)
Chapter One
‘Ground control to Major Tom, check ignition and put your helmet on. Ground control to Major Tom, commencing countdown… and don’t know the words to the rest of this song...’
‘Sidney! Get out of bed right this minute or you’ll be late.’
‘I’m up!’ Sidney shouted as he threw back his duvet and scrambled to the floor.
Ten minutes later, he was washed and dressed and sitting at the table sprinkling fruit sugar over his organic fly flakes.
‘Did you wash your legs?’
‘Yes, Mum.’
‘Have you done your homework?’
‘Yes, Mum.’
Although it’s a bit late to be asking that Sid thought to himself as he poured ice-cold rice milk into his breakfast bowl.
Parents! Really!
‘What’s on the agenda today?’ his mum asked, as she held a knife in one leg and a spoon in another. ‘Is your English teacher... what’s his name?’
‘Mr Simon Spider.’
‘That’s right! Mr Simon Spider. Isn’t it today you’ll be presenting your career ideas to Mr Simon and the rest of the class?’
‘Yeah…’
‘It’s “yes” Sidney, not yeah.’ Sidney’s Mum looked over at her son and smiled. ‘I don’t have to ask what yours will be about.’
‘Going up in space.’ Sidney grinned. ‘Just like in that song by David Bowie,’ he added.
‘Who’s that, dear?’ asked his mum more than a little absentmindedly. She was busy buttering two slices of toast whilst making a cup of coffee at the same time. Having eight legs does have its advantages.
‘Oh, Mu-um, he’s that famous singer from the seventies,’ Sidney replied with his spoon paused in mid-air. ‘He wore all those funny-looking psychedelic clothes. You know!’
Sidney’s mum didn’t know. She enjoyed music that conjured up an image of a cosy open fire and four comfy pairs of slippers. Easy listening all the way and James Last happened to be at the top of her list.
‘That’s nice. Now hurry along or you’ll be late.’
‘All right,’ Sidney said. He stood up scraping his chair on the floor.
‘Sidney, please don’t scrape your…’
‘Chair,’ said Sidney. ‘Sorry Mum! I’ll see you later.’
‘Bye, dear. Don’t forget to bring your rugby boots home they’ll need resoling by now - all eight of them.’
‘I won’t.’
‘And don’t forget your sandwiches either,’ she paused, ‘I put them on the table by the front door.’
‘What are they?’
‘Dust mite and cucumber.’
‘Thanks, Mum!’ Sidney grabbed the package and scuttled out of the house ready for another day at school.
Okay! I know what you are thinking. This is a story just for boys, right? Wrong! Well, right and wrong. It is a story for boys but it’s also a story for anyone who cares to read it. It doesn’t matter if you are a boy or a girl, young or old, because it’s still about you, your friend, your brother or sister, or that bloke who works down the road in the local chippie by night and goes to college by day. Smelling like cod in batter. Boys can become astronauts and fly in space and so can girls. You can do almost anything if you work hard enough. Just ask Sidney or fish boy. So continue reading and I bet you can’t guess what happens next! Sorry? No, that comes later.
* * *
‘Hey there, Sid,’ a cheerful voice rang out.
‘Hello, Sacha, what’s up?’
‘Oh, nothing much. Got your project?’
‘Course I have. Have you?’
‘Absolutely! Everything you want to know about being a tree surgeon,’ Sacha replied patting his rucksack.
‘Is that what you want to do?’
‘I wouldn’t mind.’ Sacha shrugged. ‘Anything to do with nature appeals to me,’ he added as he smoothed down his bristles and adjusted his school shirt and tie.
Sidney looked over at his friend and chuckled. He reckoned if Sacha didn’t make it as a tree surgeon he could always become involved in fashion. Sacha could turn his leg to anything. Not only was he a bright spider but a well-dressed one too. Sacha always made sure he looked his best especially when Stephanie Spider came crawling by.
‘Look,’ Sacha said as he nudged Sidney. ‘There’s...’
‘I know. I’ve seen her.’
Stephanie Spider was a babe. At sixteen years old, Sidney was old enough to recognise that. He wouldn’t mind taking her out on a date himself but for his first love. Space. And for his second love. Space. And for his third… you get the picture.
‘Hi, you two,’ Stephanie said, and smiled.
‘Hello, Stephanie,’ Sidney replied.
‘Er... I...’ stuttered Sacha. He always managed to lose his voice whenever Stephanie was around. It was an accomplishment in itself he managed to say that much.
‘Have you both got your projects?’
‘Absolutely!’ replied Sidney.
‘Er… I…’ said Sacha.
‘Well, I’ll see you later.’
‘Yeah, see you later, Stephanie,’ Sidney replied. He looked over at Sacha standing there with his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish gulping for air. He smiled at his friend. ‘Are you going to ask her out to the end of school dance?’
‘Not unless I learn sign language,’ Sacha replied. He looked longingly after Stephanie as she crawled on ahead. She looked pretty in her fluffy blue leggings and pink rucksack and Sacha sighed.
Are boys supposed to notice things like that?
Sacha did. He knew all about looking good and always wore stylish clothes. Sacha sighed again as he watched Stephanie crawl into the building and out of view. He might have been a bright pupil who could turn his leg to anything but when it came to girls... that was a different story.
The school bell rang as the two boys crawled along the path. They made it just in time and the door closed behind them.
Their school day had begun.
* * *
‘I’m not sure, Mrs Sylvia, I’ll have to check my appointment book when I get home,’ Sheila said. ‘I don’t have it on me right now.’
‘If you could, Sheila, I’d be grateful, dear,’
Mrs Sylvia’s voice rang out. ‘It would be nice if I could have my bristles done in time for my holiday.’
Sidney’s mum had been out shopping when she received a phone call from Mrs Sylvia asking her if she’d drop by on her way home.
Mrs Sylvia lived alone in a big house just down the road from Sidney. She used to have a husband until a human being stepped on him and that was the end of Stuart Spider. She was also very rich and was known locally as the black widow.
‘I’ll give you a ring and let you know,’ Sheila said.
‘You have my number, don’t you?’
‘I do indeed. I’ll be in touch.’
‘Ooh! Hang on just a second,’ Mrs Sylvia called out as she scuttled round to the side of the house. Moments later she reappeared carrying a cloth bag. ‘Thought you might enjoy this,’ she said. ‘I have plenty to spare.’
Shelia took the bag being offered to her and looked inside. ‘What’s this? Oh, how delicious! Thank you very much, Mrs Sylvia, that is kind.’
‘Don’t mention it.’
‘I’ll talk to you later then.’ Sheila gave one last wave before jumping into her car. She turned the ignition and with a spin of the wheels was gone in a cloud of dust.
* * *
So far that morning Sheila had been run off her eight legs.
Her first task had been to drop in at Crawla Flora to arrange for a bunch of roses and dandelions to be sent to Sidney’s grandmother, Edith Spider, whose birthday was the following week.
Sidney loved his gran. She was both funny and clever.
It was Edith who had taught Sidney how to skate on two skateboards at the same time with four legs balanced on each one. She also wrote a column for the Senior Arachne Club (SAC) in which she’d once interviewed Sidney about his dream in becoming an astronaut.
Sidney enjoyed having his name in print although he wasn’t too keen on the photograph that went along with the article.
He thought his close-cropped bristles made him look about seven years old.
That was the last time he’d let his mum come anywhere near him so she could ‘try out my new pair of cut and layer scissors they’re the latest thing from Japan, Sidney!’
Sheila ordered the bouquet and made one more stop. She dropped in at a large shop called Surfers Web and within minutes had found just the right thing.
‘Would you have this gift-wrapped, please?’ she asked the shop assistant as she handed over the software programme.
‘Certainly, madam.’
The computer programme didn’t mean much to her but she knew it would mean a lot more to Edith.
The assistant returned within minutes handing over the present now wrapped in a pale yellow velvet box decorated with glitter and fluffy flies. Sheila smiled her thanks and paid for it with her web store card.
Moments later she was backing out of her space in the car park when her mobile rang.
It was the telephone call from Mrs Sylvia asking her to drop by on her way home.
* * *
Sheila turned the corner and moments later she pulled into her driveway.
The neat-looking house, modern and square-shaped, was set well back from the lane. A colourful bunch of flowers and weeds nodded their heads in the slight breeze as if in greeting. Sheila climbed out of the car clutching her handbag, her keys, and a bunch of shopping bags. She crawled up the path, opened the front door, and stepped straight into a cosy and welcoming kitchen.
The first thing Sheila did was to boil the kettle.
Working as a full-time mobile hairdresser and being a wife and mother kept Sidney’s mum busy and thirsty. She made herself a cup of tea and drank it in record time before scuttling through to the open-plan lounge to hunt down her appointment book.
She paused in front of a sideboard on top of which sat a chunky pair of red wooden candlesticks, a selection of photographs and a big book.
What kind of book? You nosy thing! Do you really have to know?
All right then, it was a glossy cookery book entitled Fifty Different Ways to Eat a Fly. What else!
A stack of magazines sat on a low coffee table in front of a squashy sofa and two comfy chairs. She scurried over to the table and picked up the magazines. She glanced through them.
No luck.
She crawled over to where a brand new television set stood on a wooden shelf unit and there she found it amongst a selection of remote controls nestling in a rattan basket Sidney had made at school.
She picked up the book and skimmed through it until she found the date for the following week.
As far as she could tell, without her reading glasses, the day appeared to be clear.
Still clutching the book she scuttled across the rug over to the desk where she sat down in front of the family computer. She flicked a switch and pressed a button.
As she listened to the machine whirring into action she reached across to check the spider plant sitting on the far corner of the desk. The earth was still nice and moist from when she’d watered it a couple of nights earlier.
The screen burst into life with a blast of musical notes. She grabbed her pair of glasses, complete with two very large round lenses, slipped them on, tapped a few keys and peered at the screen.
There was nothing scheduled for the morning. She’d telephone Mrs Sylvia to tell her she would be able to give her bristles a perm one week from today. The only entry on the computer was Sidney’s meeting with the European Spider Space Programme (ESSP) and that wasn’t until the afternoon.
Sidney knew he had to study hard if he wanted to become an astronaut.
That’s all he’d ever wanted to be.
An astronaut.
His hero was Yuri Gagarin. Yuri was a Russian cosmonaut and the first man in space. Sidney couldn’t pronounce his name, had trouble spelling it, but he wanted to be just like him and that meant getting good grades in maths and physics. Luckily, next to rugby and domestic science, maths and physics were Sidney’s best, and favourite, subjects.
The rest of the day sped by and soon it was time for Sidney to return home from school. And, as usual, it began with a visit at the local newsagent to buy some chocolate fly eggs.
‘Hey, Sid!’ Sacha called out. ‘Look at this.’
Sidney looked over to where Sacha was holding up a copy of Spider Aviation Monthly.
On the cover of the magazine was a picture of a shiny silver spaceship blasting off into space. Sidney crawled over to where Sacha was standing and grasped it tightly with two of his legs.
He gazed upon the ship and let out a long sigh.
One day, he thought, one day and that’ll be me.
As Sidney stood in the shop dreaming about going up in space he had no idea that day was just around the corner.
Chapter Two
‘Hello, Mum.’
‘Hello, Sidney, had a good day at school?’
‘It was all right, thanks,’ he said.
He crawled over to the fridge, reached inside and pulled out a large jug full of juice. Fly blood and organic oranges mixed together in a blender. Delicious! He poured himself a glass and gulped it down.
‘Your father will be home early tonight, something about the lead up to the test flight having gone well,’ Sheila paused as she glanced over the rim of her glasses. ‘So if you can lay the table that’ll be a big help.’
‘Yes, all right,’ said Sidney. He crawled over to peer into a saucepan bubbling away on the cooker. ‘What’s for dinner?’
‘Maggot Bolognese and salad,’ his mum replied. ‘Mrs Sylvia kindly provided the lettuce complete with greenfly.’
‘Cool!’
‘Yes, wasn’t that nice of her,’ Shelia said, and then asked. ‘How did your project go? Was Mr Simon pleased with it?’
‘I’m not sure, Mum, I don’t think so. He said he wants to see me about it next week.’
‘Oh? Well, not to worry, love. Let’s wait and see what he has to say. As long as you
’ve done your best, Sidney, you can’t ask any more than that.’
‘I know,’ Sidney said, and smiled, before scuttling upstairs to his bedroom.
He opened the door and stepped inside. He ducked to avoid banging his head against the home-made planets and spaceships hanging from the ceiling. He chucked his rucksack on the bed and jumped up beside it. He reached inside and pulled out his books and placed them next to two plump pillows covered in pictures of Mars, Jupiter and Pluto. A pair of pyjamas peeped out from underneath decorated with… you guessed it… more planets.
The whole of his room was like being in another galaxy.
As far as Sidney was concerned - space was ace!
Sacha had done well with his report about tree surgeons. Boosted by confidence he nearly asked Stephanie out but changed his mind when he saw her surrounded by a group of friends. The last thing he needed was an audience.
Embarrassing or what!
Especially if she turned him down. He knew he would simply shrivel up and die on the spot. He told himself he’d manage it one day though.
One day he’d ask Stephanie Spider out if it was the last thing he did.
Sidney’s Mum was busy doing three things at once.
She was chopping spring onions with one leg, talking on her mobile, and stirring the Bolognese simmering on the cooker with another. Having eight legs does have its advantages! Inside of which was a delicious mixture of tomatoes, onion fly larvae, mushrooms and maggots.
The savoury smell from the herbs, Shelia had added only moments before, drifted upstairs and straight into Sidney’s room making his tummy rumble. He whipped off his school tie and blazer and scurried to the bathroom to wash his legs.
‘Report for duty immediately Squadron Leader Sidney Spider!’
Sidney’s mum grinned and with a free leg waved to the handsome spider standing in the doorway in his blue air force uniform.
‘Dad!’ Sidney’s voice called out. He scuttled down the stairs into his father’s legs leaving a trail of wet prints behind him.
‘Hello, son.’
‘It’s lovely to see you, Sitwell,’ Sheila said as she stirred the Bolognese.