Disclaimer: All recognisable characters belong to HiT Entertainment. All OCs belong to me.

Chapter 2

"So, what did you two get up to today?" dad asked Charlie and I over dinner later that evening.

Charlie scowled. He still wasn't talking to me after I stole his trousers. I sniggered. Serves him right for telling on me!

Mum brought some more food over to the table. "They've had a bit of a fight," she whispered.

"Well, that's not like you two," granddad said. "What caused it?"

"Sam stole my trousers," Charlie muttered.

Granddad snorted a laugh. "Did he give them back?"

"Not yet."

"And I don't plan to, either," I added.

Dad frowned. "Now, Sam. That's not very nice, is it?"

"But he was teasing me, dad!"

"That's no excuse. Now, give them back to him, so you can end this silly quarrel."

"No! He doesn't deserve to have them back!"

Charlie's fist came from nowhere, and it caught me right on my nose. "OW!" I shrieked, genuinely this time, and I tumbled out of my chair. I covered my nose with my hands to try and stop the pain. "Charlie!"

"You deserved that!" Charlie shouted furiously, and he stood up. "In fact, you deserve another!"

I instinctively held my hands up to protect my face as Charlie came towards me. Luckily, dad grabbed hold of Charlie's wrist.

"That's quite enough, Charlie! If you want to take up boxing, you should pick on someone your own size! Go upstairs to your room! You can go to bed without any pudding!"

Knowing better than to disobey dad, Charlie reluctantly headed upstairs. Granddad kindly gave me a hand up.

"Uh, Mary?" he called to mum. "Sam's nose is bleeding."

"Oh dear!" mum sighed. She grabbed a couple of old rags before coming over to me. "Tilt your head back, Sam. That's it." She covered my nose with the rags. "It doesn't look too bad… I don't think it's broken, so hopefully it should stop bleeding in a few minutes."

Sure enough, it did. Relieved, I returned to the table to finish my dinner.

After dinner, I joined mum, dad and granddad in the sitting room. Since we didn't have a TV, my family enjoyed spending the evenings talking in front of the fireplace. I was exhausted after all the excitement I'd had that day, and so I curled up beside granddad on the sofa, resting my head in his lap. Granddad fondly stroked my auburn hair, which nearly made me doze off. However, I stayed awake enough to listen to the adults' conversation.

"It's been quite a while since the boys have had a fight like that," dad began. "I wonder what's got into them?"

"Sam was hyper this morning, so that probably had something to do with it," mum replied. "I wish I knew where he got his energy from! I feel sorry for his new school teacher. She might have to tie him to his seat, just to keep him still. Oh, and that reminds me. I heard that the Criddlingtons have sent Elvis away to boarding school this semester, to teach him to be independent. Perhaps we should consider doing the same with Sam?"

Dad chuckled. "Sam is already far too independent, and much too headstrong for his own good. I don't think boarding school is the answer for him."

"Besides," granddad added as he continued stroking my hair. "We'd all miss him. Especially me. His boundless energy makes me feel much younger."

"I saw Station Officer Boyce on my way home this afternoon," dad continued. "He told me about having to rescue Sam from the pier. I was going to punish him for disobeying me, but I think Charlie's punch has been enough of a punishment. But do you know what Boyce said to me?"

"What?" mum and granddad asked in unison.

"He said, and I quote, 'I know I haven't been in Pontypandy for very long, but from what I've seen of your youngest son, Sam, I think he'll make a brilliant fireman one day'."

Mum and granddad laughed, while I scoffed silently.

Why on earth would I want to become a fireman? It'd be so boring waiting around for a fire to happen. I'd rather be a policeman. That way, I'd get to chase criminals all day, and lock them up!

"Why does Boyce think that Sam would make a great fireman?" granddad wondered.

"He said it's because Sam's so energetic and fearless," dad replied. "And because he's a natural leader. He was also quite impressed that Sam was a strong swimmer, despite his size, even with all his clothes on."

Oh, not again, dad! Stop picking on me for being small! It's not my fault. I'll catch up to Charlie one day…

"Well, I don't want Sam to become a fireman," mum said firmly. "It's far too dangerous."

"So is being a fisherman," granddad pointed out. "But if Boyce thinks Sam should become a fireman, he's a good judge of character. Sam needs a career that will help him focus his energy into something useful."

"He's quite good at football, so he could always play for Wales," mum said as she stood up. "I wouldn't mind seeing him do that." She took a bag of marshmallows down from the top of the cupboard in the kitchen. Hearing the bag rustle, I sat up alertly.

"Can I have some, please mum?"

Dad and granddad burst out laughing.

"I swear that boy has radar!" dad exclaimed, pointing at me.

Mum held out the bag to me, and I grabbed a handful of the sticky treats. Then, I picked up the fireplace poker, and I stuck a marshmallow onto the end of it.

"Be careful not to drop any onto the floor, Sam," mum warned as I held the poker above the hot coals in the fireplace.

"I will, mum."

As soon as my marshmallow caught fire, I removed the poker from the fireplace, and I blew out the flames. Then, I ate the melted marshmallow right off the poker.

"My turn!" granddad said as he stood up. I handed the poker to him.

After I'd finished cooking and eating all of my marshmallows, mum sent me to bed. For once, I didn't protest, since she'd let me stay up well past my usual bedtime.

…

"Sam! Charlie! Wake up! It's time to get ready for school!"

Groaning, I buried my head under my pillow. It's too early!

Mum entered my room a few minutes later. "Sam? Didn't you hear me calling you?"

I reluctantly rolled over. "Do I have to go, mum?"

Mum nodded. "Yes, you do! Now, get up, and get dressed. You've got a new bus driver picking you up today."

A new bus driver as well as a new teacher? Hmm… This might be fun!

About an hour later, Charlie and I left the house with our satchels and skateboards. We skateboarded down to the bridge that crossed over the High Street. The bus stop was in the High Street, in front of old Mrs Sanderson's supermarket. Charlie stopped when he reached the top of the stairs, and he picked up his skateboard. I, however, continued skateboarding down the road.

"Sam!" Charlie called. "Where are you going?"

I stopped and turned around on my skateboard. "I'm going to try a new trick. Stand back!"

Charlie gasped when he realised what I was planning to do. "No, Sam! It's far too dangerous!"

Ignoring him, I skateboarded towards the stairs. I launched myself off the top step, just as the bus stopped in front of the supermarket. Twisting slightly, I landed sideways on the handrail, and I did a perfect rail slide down it.

Yes! Nailed it! Oh, no! Now the bus is in my way!

When I reached the end of the handrail, I was launched into the air. Somehow, I managed to stay on my board when it landed on the tarmac, and I tried to swerve away from the bus, but it was too late. My right elbow clipped the side of the bus, knocking me off my board.

"Oof!" I exclaimed as I landed heavily on the road. I rolled several times, before I finally came to a stop. I lay still in the middle of the road for a moment, to try and catch my breath. I heard an anxious crowd gather around me.

"Oh, no!"

"Not Sam again!"

"Is he dead?"

"Of course he isn't, Gwen! He's still breathing!"

"Someone should fetch Doctor Roberts."

"I wouldn't bother. It's only Sam. He never gets seriously hurt, no matter how hard he tries."

Sure enough, I chose that moment to sit up. The other children in Pontypandy: Bronwyn and Gwen Griffiths, Tony, Andrew and Anna, had gathered around me, along with a number of adults. A dark man, who appeared to be of Caribbean descent, looked to be the most concerned. I guessed that he was the new bus driver.

"I'm fine, everyone," I tried to reassure them all. But just then, I saw Dr Roberts pushing his way through the crowd. He knelt down beside me.

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that, eh, young Sam? That was quite a collision! Don't try to deny it. I saw you!"

I chuckled. "Did you see me do that rail slide? I'd have made it if that bus hadn't been in the way…"

Dr Roberts frowned sternly. "Well, now that you've done it, I hope that you never try it again. You could've hit your head and knocked yourself out, or worse! Now, do you hurt anywhere?"

"No."

"Oh, look! His arm's bleeding!" Anna gasped.

I looked at my right-hand elbow. Sure enough, it was bleeding, but not badly. "Big deal," I said with a shrug. "It'll stop soon."

"You'd better get that graze cleaned up before we go to school, Sam," Charlie said. "Oh, and look at your shirt! You've shredded it!"

"Stop it! You sound like mum!"

Charlie folded his arms across his chest. "I wouldn't have to if you knew how to look after yourself!"

"I do!"

"That's enough squabbling, you two," Dr Roberts instructed. "Come with me, Sam."

Rather reluctantly, I followed Dr Roberts inside the supermarket. He lifted me onto the counter, so he could easily clean my wound. The new bus driver watched on with concern.

"Don't be too worried about Sam, Mr Evans," Dr Roberts explained as he washed the blood away. "Sam is the type of boy who always bounces instead of breaking."

I sniggered until Dr Roberts put some alcohol on my wound. "Ow! That stings!"

"Serves you right in my opinion," Mr Evans said sternly. He glanced at his watch. "Will this take much longer? I need to get these kids off to school."

"I'll just put this sticking plaster over the gaze…" Dr Roberts explained as he did so. "There you go, Sam. Now, you can go to school."

"Thanks, Doctor Roberts," I muttered. Then, I dashed outside and I climbed on board the bus. Ha! The back seat is mine again! Hehe! Now to play my practical jokes…