SPRING FLOWERS

By Sir Roger Dixon (An ex-school teacher of mine)

All Characters + Story is © Roger Dixon.

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Basher fumbled in his coat pocket. He had just enough money to buy his Gran some flowers. He wanted to say sorry for breaking her best blue vase. He bought her a bunch of Spring flowers, of all colours.

"She'll be pleased with these," thought Basher.

He placed the flowers carefully into a large carrier bag and hurried home. He decided to take a short cut through the alley near the waste-ground.

"Get out of the way!" yelled a voice behind him. Basher turned to see Tom, on roller-skates, being pulled along by his two friends. Basher had nowhere to stand back. A few moments later, Tom was flat on the ground, together with his friends and Basher. Tom moaned.

"I'll get you!" he cried.

Basher got to his feet and brushed himself down. He reached for the carrier-bag containing the flowers, but too late. Tom was already pulling out the flowers.

"Pity about these," he said, and before Basher could do anything; Tom had pulled off all the flower heads, leaving a heap of petals on the ground. Tom laughed and his friends jeered as they continued along the alley.

Basher bent down, picked up his carrier-bag, the stems and
leaves of the flowers.

"He's mean and horrible," sobbed Basher. "Now what am I to do? I haven't any more money to buy extra flowers for Gran."

Basher no longer hurried home. He came to the gap in the fence which led on to the waste-ground. He scrambled through and up on to the bare-topped mounds. He stood looking around. Then he caught sight of a mass of yellow flowers - dandelions.

"I'll take some of those. Gran won't mind."

So Basher ran down the small hill, narrowly missed a bed of stinging nettles and picked as many dandelions as he thought necessary to make Gran a nice bunch.

Back home, Basher gave the dandelions to Gran.

"Oh," she said, "how thoughtful ."

"They're not what I meant you to have."

"Never mind," Gran added, "It's the thought that counts.
Although dandelions don't last long when they are picked, they do have a lovely colour - so cheerful on these dull days."

Basher brightened up and it wasn't long before Gran had learned the full story of what Tom had done to the flowers Basher had bought.

"Right," said Gran, in a determined voice, "we'll go and sort him out!"

"Oh, no," thought Basher, "she's put on her coat and blue hat. She means business!"

On the waste-ground, Tom, still wearing his roller-skates, was being pulled up and down the mounds by his two friends. Occasionally, they would let him roll down the mounds on his own, then they would pull him back up the slopes again. They did not see Basher and his Gran scrambling through the gap in the alleyway fence.

"There they are," whispered Gran, "you attack from this side; I'll go over there and attack from that side. When I raise my umbrella, you charge."

Basher and his Gran took their positions either side of the mound, upon which Tom and his friends were nearing the top. Gran raised her umbrella. Basher scrambled up the mound and grabbed Tom's friend round his ankles. At the same time, Gran prodded Tom's other friend with her umbrella. The result was that both friends let go of Tom as they slithered down the mound.

Before Tom had realised what was happening, he found himself travelling backwards rather quickly. He tried to save himself, but that resulted in him overbalancing and rolling
head-over-heels and ending up in a bed of stinging-nettles.

"Basher," said Gran, "why is Tom sitting in nettles?"

"Perhaps he's going to pick some to take home to his mother!"

Tom was in agony. How painful the nettle stings were! He sobbed and sobbed. Gran went and picked a few large leaves.

"Here," she said, "put these dock leaves over the stings, they'll help to relieve the pain."

Basher and his Gran managed to fasten the dock leaves together. Tom had them round his neck and over his hands.

"Oh, dear," said Gran, "he does look odd!"

"Rather like an overgrown spring onion, if you ask me," added Basher.

"Well maybe he's learnt his lesson and will leave flowers and plants alone in the future. All flowers have to be looked after so that everyone can enjoy them."

"Including spring onions?" grinned Basher.

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Auothor Note: This story was NOT created by me, it was created by a man named "Sir Roger Dixon" Whom was an ex-school teacher of mine. He read it out to us in class once, I thought it was amazing, and decided to ask permission for it to be used on the Internet. He said

"Sure, of course - I love to see people getting interested in my work -  As long as you give credit, and don;t claim it as yours; you are free to use the sotry as you wish" (This was said, not written.)

If you would like to ask me anymore questions about this story, and permissions the Author gave me, PM me or e-mail me at: [email protected] otherwise please do not post anything about the Copyright/Permissions in the fanfic comments.

Copyrights:

Spring Flowers © Sir Roger Dixon Story's.

Basher, Gran, Tom, And friends © Sir Roger Dixon Story's.

Permissions by Sir Roger Dixon (In person)

Copyright © 2008 Sir Roger Dixon Story's, All Rights Reserved.

Copyright © 2008 Balto Online, All Rights reserved.