I was heel-clicked incarnate. Honestly, the cliché police, if they existed, would have thrown the book at me or locked me up and thrown away the key. Nothing could stop me in this mood. I was on top of the world, soaring like a cold blister and full of beans that could make a new forest. As I walked down the street I was the shiniest on show by a city mile (not in the country and anyway, a mile’s a mile for all that). I couldn’t resist singing my favourite Scorpions song “Here I am, Rock you like a Harry Kane.”
Then Destiny called. “Hello, you,” she said.
A driver had lost control of his Ford F650 pick up truck and had driven it onto the pavement. Careering at speed it was almost upon a young boy who was walking in front of me. I had a split second to make a decision.
With utter selflessness I opted to take the hit and therefore I pushed the young boy onto the road out of harm’s way. However, at the same hundredth of a second the driver corrected his vehicle and swerved back onto the road before braking hard. It skidded twenty yards before stopping.
Time stood still until a young voice started crying. Miraculously, because of the height of the truck, it had passed over the child underneath. He escaped with minor cuts and bruises. Then an adult voice piped up “You lunatic”. I couldn’t agree more. Obviously, the passers-by were about to vent their fury on the driver. I joined in.
“You are a lunatic” I piped.
“Not him, you” said another irate pedestrian, piping at me, sorry, pointing at me.
“What did I do?”
“You almost killed the boy.”
“What! I saved him, you should be giving me a medal.”
“I know what we’ll give you.”
The conscientious observers that did nothing to avert the near tragedy were now in a paramilitary frame of mind. They were ganging up on me, hood style. Let’s not get ridiculous, they didn’t have pitch forks or torches because those aren’t the type of things you walk about with and they aren’t really readily available. What they did have was numerical advantage. This forced me to issue the warning I’ve waited all my life to say.
“Stand back. These hands are lethal. I had two karate lessons…in 1976!”