Jungle Warriors
It might have only been a silly kids’ game when I look back on it now but, at the time, this one was important. David was fitter than I but I still think I was the more intelligent. Nevertheless he’d always won our games in the past. He was popular and I was less so and, yes, I suppose I was jealous of him.
We’d just go into the woods and would decide upon our roles. This time I was the guerrilla freedom fighter and he was the government trooper. The guerrilla was always given an hour to prepare before the trooper came searching for him. Did I point out that one of David’s weaknesses was that he was honest? I’d rather not comment on my own sense of fair play.
I had taken the precaution of taking a spade with me that day. I hid it before David arrived and retrieved it once we’d decided upon our respective roles and went out to one of the narrower paths where I started digging. All those fallen leaves and great, tall bracken fronds were going to come in handy.
OK, let’s cut to the chase. David couldn’t believe his luck when he saw me sitting in the middle of the path with my back to his approach. He was lithe and athletic and known as “Puss” on account of his cat-like grace and he moved forward very carefully to avoid my hearing him.
I’ll give him his due, he WAS quiet - until he fell into that pit! It wasn’t a very deep one but the fall incapacitated him just enough for me to press home my advantage. So, there he was, shirtless and secured into place by that set of handcuffs that he didn’t know I had. I couldn’t resist applying the gag, he was always so full of himself and I thought that it was his turn to listen for once and that tatty t-shirt of his that I ripped up was obviously an old one.
So, there he was. He had no choice but to listen to the details of my magnificent victory in spite of the wounded knee that I had sustained and so bravely bore in the cause of freedom. Even if he stood up, he would be unable to slip his cuffs over the end of the branch and I was making the best of it.
I pointed out that he was completely defenceless against being tickled, and I knew that was one of his weaknesses. I even debated whether or not I should remove his shoes. That was when he tried tucking his feet under his bum.
It was hours until tea-time and I hadn’t even started torturing him yet.