It was many years ago when the child was born; the exact year I cannot say. His father was a simple man by the equally simple name of Bob. He had only two loves in this world: biking, and his wife. He loved to feel the wind surround him as he rode through the landscapes of the country; he was never one for city life, and so he did not live near one at all. Things such as gas-burning cars and loud subway systems angered him, and he most defiantly did not want to raise a family in such a place.
There was only a few disadvantages that came with living in the country: the stores had few things to offer by way of variety, and the doctors were not as well trained as most would like. But Bob didn't mind. He stocked his closet with a simple green polo shirt and brown shorts, taking no care in fancy clothes anyway.
All was well for Bob and his wife, and it was not long after their marriage that “they” became pregnant. The doctor was old and in a wheelchair, but assured the young couple that he was more than able to help with the birthing process.
When the day came, Bob's wife labored for hours, and screamed on into the night. It was midnight when the child was born, and the doctor rolled out slowly, holding the child in his hands and presented it to Bob.
“It's a boy,” he said solemnly.
Bob held the boy up in wonder as he smiled, seemingly unaware of the doctor's attitude. “He's beautiful. My little Billy...”
“Sir there...there is something you should know.”
“Yes? Is something wrong with the child?”
“No no he's...he's fine. It's your wife, sir. She...she didn't make it. The child...Billy...came with such a force that he...took some of her organs out with him. She saw his face before he died. She must have been happy at least for that.”
Bob held his boy close and fel to his knees. His wife had been all that he had, and now...she was gone.
“Billy...” Bob whispered, sobbing gently “I'll never leave your sid as I did hers. You shall be with me always. I swear it.”
In the following years, Bob kept his promise. He built a small port on his bike and attached a seat for Billy to sit in.
“See? Now you can go with daddy everywhere. We'll never be apart.” Bob smiled, wanting nothing but his son's safety. In fact, any and every time Billy was hurt; even in the slightest, Bob would shout out “dammit” to himself as a chastising for his failure to protect.
Every day Bob would take Billy with him on his rides through the country, and one day he passed a rather tattered looking bum in a wheelchair on the street. Bob stopped and made sure his son looked at him.
“That's Willy. He used to be the local doctor until...” Bob sighed sadly “You stay away from that man. He's nothing but a drunkard now, and he deserves no better.”
Billy nodded and started at the man, who looked up at him with eyes that showed nothing but regret. Billy looked down at his old but stable wheelchair and smiled as his dad rode off.
That night Billy snuck out of bed and walked the long country rode to the 'town red-neck's' house. She was a fat old broad by the name of Betty, and kept all sorts of foolish things around her trailer. Billy had seem some old fire-works in a rusted-out shed there before, and went now to retrieve them. Instead he found something much better. There was a rocket of sorts in her shed; probably smuggled in from some forsaken country by her local dealer, Larry. Billy took it, along with a few tools, and wandered out into the night.
It didn't take him long to find Willy, who was slumped over his many bottles in a drunken stupor of a sleep. Billy smirked once more as he attached the rocket to his wheelchair, then hurried back home.
The next day on Billy and Bob's ride through the country, they saw a strange sight for their part of the world: several police cars and an old ambulance were parked around a strange, burning heap. Bob got up and wheeled his bike over slowly, telling Billy not to un-buckle himself.
“What's going on?” He asked, trying to sneak a peak at the wreckage.
“We think it's a kind of...radical suicide. Old Doctor Willy attached a...ROCKET to his wheelchair and bolted straight for Betty's trailer. He died on impact and, unfortunately, took Betty out with the blaze.”
“My God...” Bob looked over at Billy, not wanting him to see such horrors. But, to his surprise, Billy was smiling. It was a strange smile, and it reminded him of the smile Billy had when he first held him in his arms, after his wife died. He decided to take Billy home.
The next few weeks were strange ones, as the local newspaper reported odd deaths around town. Larry, local dealer by night and lawn-mower for hire, had apparently slipped and fallen right under his lanmover as the blades were running. A local couple of tourists from the city, Mike and Mary, had a tampered fuel line on their scooter and it exploded. There was even a report of the local nut-job scientist, Harry, having his head cut off by his new “self-serve helicopter”. Every day Bob got more and more worried for the safety of his son and, one night, decided that they had to get out of this town.
Bob hired a moving company to take care of their personal affairs for them, and took Billy on his bike to make a sort of adventure out the move. The rode for days, stopping at motels and various diners, all the while laughing and trying to bond. Billy, however, was not having that much fun. In fact, he seemed to be a tad depressed. With every day that went by he got more and more bored with the entire situation, and eventually Bob had to ask him why.
“I want to go home.” Billy said, staring off into the empty distance “There are no people here.”
“I know, but we're off to a new town. There will be new people to play with.”
“But I want to play with them NOW.” He shouted back in a strangely demanding voice “I miss...the excitement of it all.”
“I''m sorry Billy, but too many...accidents happened there. It wasn't safe.”
“There'll be accidents where-ever I go...” Billy muttered.
That night Billy snuck out of the motel room and went towards his Father's bike. He hadn't planned on hurting his father, but the boredom was too much for him to withstand. He loosened a bolt on the bike's chain and went back inside, preparing for tomorrow.
The next day Billy and Bob went out for breakfast, then Bob strapped his son onto the seat before heading off.
“Be careful not to move around too much back there. We have to ride on the highway for a bit.”
“Highways are dangerous, right dad?”
Bob smiled. “Yes they are. So we'll be super-EXTRA careful, right?”
Billy smirked. “Of course.”
It didn't take long for the pair to reach the highway and, when they did, it didn't take them long to pick up speed. It was as if they were being boosted forward, and Billy enjoyed it. The speedy, but gentle ride came to an abrupt halt though as the bike chain snapped, sending Billy and Bob twisting wildly towards an on-coming truck. They flew towards it so fast and seemingly out of nowhere, that it could almost be called a...turbo dismount. Needless to say, they didn't survive the crash.
Billy awoke a few hours later in a warm place surrounded by fire. The very walls seemed to be oozing it, and he called out for his dad.
“Bobby isn't here, Billy.” A strange voice called out, emerging from the shadows. It was a large, red demon who smiled down at Billy with rancid teeth.
“Where am I? Where's daddy?”
“He's gone to a MUCH better place then this, boy-o.”
“Then why did I come here?”
“Because you were a bad boy in life, and so must be punished now, in death.”
Billy looked up at the monster with true fear in his eyes and his own form seemed to shrink and change.
“I'm sending you to a place where you will be surrounded forever by the tourture that you love so much, but where you will also be a part of it. I have chosen the best person for the job of punishing you for eternity; a soul who has the ability to hate you, and you alone, with such a passion that you will surely feel maximum pain.”
“But...if I am already in Hell, where am I to go?”
“Oh, to a lovely place,” the creature smiled “Happy Wheels.”