Bare Feet

• Jack Larkin, Grade 5
• Short Story
• 2015

I crept silently through the deserted streets of London, searching for boots to wear. Risky business, I knew that I’d get sent to jail if I was caught. But I didn’t plan on getting caught, and my plans always worked.
This one was no different; there was a shiny pair of leather boots sitting on the veranda of a large house. As I moved towards the boots a voice spoke from the shadows, “You’re coming with me.” It was a policeman.
I knew that there was no point complaining. Slowly, I trudged towards the policeman. “Why ya’ looking so glum kid? I’m not arresting you, I’m helping you escape!” He said.
“Escape from what?” I asked.
Suddenly, the policeman made a strange face and screamed “RUN!” I heard light footsteps and when I turned, an ugly man in a top hat and old fashioned coat made a grab for me. I’d heard rumours about him but before I could picture his name he made another grab for me so I ran in pursuit of the policeman. The figure was very fast and was gaining ground on me quickly. I kept running, into an alley I ran and up ahead, I could see the policeman. But he wasn’t running. As I neared him, he grabbed my shoulder and I came to a stop. “There’s a massive brick wall there you idiot!” He yelled. Somewhere in the distance, a baby wailed and the ugly man bounded away in search of the source of the distant noise.
“Who was that?” I asked.
“That, my new friend, was Spring Heeled Jack; terrorist, murderer and complete lunatic,” the policeman replied grimly.
The last thing I remembered was another two policemen knocking me out.
When I woke up I was in a dark room swaying back and forth in a sickening motion. The friendly policeman, whom I had escaped from Spring Heeled Jack with, was kneeling over me. “Hey mate, ‘ow ya doin’?” He asked in a very funny voice.
“Why are you speaking funny?” I asked wearily.
“We’re on our way to New Holland mate, so we be’er start practisin’ our accent. By the way, the name’s Kenny, ‘ow about yours mate?” He asked.
“Alex; and why are we on a boat?” I replied.
“We both committed crimes an’ the jails are full,” he said.
“Oh and where are the toilets?” I asked. Kenny pointed to a large metal bucket. “Umm... I think I can hold on,” I said.
The rest of the journey passed in a very slow blur. Sure, some guys died and that was never good, but really, what do you expect? A safe ride and five star food? No, it was more like a very dangerous ride and negative five star food.
On the morning of the 250th day, we arrived. It was time to start a new life. Not for the first time, I wished that I had just gone with bare feet.