Heads Up!

• Mitchell Otley, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2017

The Sun was glaring down on the village of Robertsbridge. Down the middle of the jagged rocky road, two peasants knelt down, their hands chained in shackles, only scars remain from the harsh prodding of the lord’s guards. “What you here for?” said the brown haired man with a ripped cotton shirt. “Murder. But I didn’t do it, I swear to God! I was set up I tell you!” The young, freckly, blonde haired boy stated clearly. “Oih, shut it, peasant!” The guard looked down at the two vulgarly boney men with a disgusted look. “I hear you, I’m here for treason, trying to kill the King’s son. The names Hamish.” Jobe looked blankly at the block of wood where he was to lay down his head, and take his last breath. “Stewart. Philip Stewart.” Philip’s pale white face looked sternly at the block, scheming whether there was a way for him to get away.
For a while the two peasants knelt side by side, in silence, watching the excitable crowd flock to see two bodies be decapitated. “Um, Hamish, I don’t suppose you want to escape-“ “Oih, there will be no escaping under my watch! So shut it!” Philip was cut off very abruptly. “So, what’s your plan?” Hamish whispered so quietly that the guard didn’t suspect a thing. “Do you see the feather right next to the block? I’m going to grab it while I place my head down, and when the executioner lifts up his axe I’m going kneel up to tickle his nose so he drops his axe to sneeze. At this time I will make a run for it, distracting all the guards. Then you will make a sneaky escape without anyone noticing.” Philip’s plan was long and tedious, but it could work. “I think your ‘in over your head’. Ha! Get it?!” Hamish sneered quietly. “Pull your head in, we’re about to get executed!” “Oih, blondie, your time has come. And, heads up. It will only hurt for a second!” The guard prodded Hamish’s
ghostly body as he heckled and jeered. As Hamish sauntered to the chopping block, he discreetly winked at Philip while picking up the feather.
The giant-like executer slowly hauled up his battle-axe. When the axe reached its peak, Hamish leaped in the air like a deer in headlights and tickled the executer’s nose. The executer let out a boisterous sneeze as his axe came falling down. Hamish held his chains that were preventing him from moving his feet where the axe was coming down. His chains shattered into hundreds of little pieces. Simultaneously, the abundance of guards came chasing after Hamish, who’d already ran half way up the street. The guards struggled to budge through the laughing and cheering crowd.
There were no guards to be seen, so Philip slipped through the crowd and into the crepuscular alleyway. I wonder if Hamish survived the guards…
Philip disappeared into the darkness, never to be seen again…
By Mitchell Otley