Chapter 2
Later that week a new rival burst onto the scene, one Richard Rearguard. Also known as Dick the Dice by online fans, it was rumoured he could pump the exact number rolled by a dice. Not everyone trusted him though. Some folk who’d studied his website figured Dick was the type of person who’d slyly rip the final page out an exciting book.
The minute young Rearguard arrived in Beasley, his pompous and pushy parents rushed him round to Sam’s house. Richard proudly informed Sam he’d be enrolling in this year’s pumping contest at the town hall, where he intended to ‘smoke’ all competition.
He’d heard Sam saw breaking wind mostly as a hobby and had lots of other interests, whereas his family took pumping very seriously and practiced at least four hours every day. In fact Richard often stayed up all night pumping before a major contest. Pumping was sacred to the Rearguards, therefore not something to be entered into lightly. Taking the glorious English pumping crown back to America would be returning it to where it truly belonged!
Generations ago Richard’s ancestors were forced out of England by Puritans who hated pumping and other such tomfoolery. Perhaps they were secretly jealous of folk’s windy skills, there wasn’t time to find out. The restless Rearguards moved here temporarily from across the sea, because currently only folk living in Great Britain were eligible to enter such a prestigious contest.
Richard claimed to know countless fresh tricks and was currently training to take the newly organised American pumping scene by storm. Sam welcomed him graciously, saying if Richard was good enough, then he deserved to find his dream. Sam politely added how nice it would be to have some real competition, and even generously offered to help train him.
“Don’t need your help!” Richard snapped rather viciously.
“See you there then Dick,” Sam said kindly.
“Don’t be so foul Sam!” Richard’s mother cried, ushering her son into the car.
This year’s competition started next weekend, and had completely sold out. Tickets were already disappearing for next year’s performance too. It was truly amazing how the popular contest begun only three years ago had quickly gotten out of hand.
Beasley’s old town hall had been renovated again recently. It was a well known fact this trendy competition alone paid for the place to be upgraded regularly. Expensive extension plans were currently being talked over for next year as well. Though pumping still hadn’t quite reached national TV level, with this rising interest surely that was only a matter of time? That was why a large waterproof projection screen would be erected outside on the day for excited fans.
As is only fitting, high standards had to be met in order to qualify for the Beasley Pumper’s Challenge. One week before the day of days, participants were required to attend a strict ten point elimination round. Such demanding tests quickly sorted out wannabe amateurs from the real showmen.
The actual contest itself on the following Saturday was preceded by an official parade of floats led by the delightfully eccentric town mayor. School kids dressed life size dolls as professional pumpers and performed mini plays to enchanting music. Other themes included celebrating the power of the pump to unite folk, along with fun giant inflatable bums and such. Coveted front row tickets for the performance and a tiny working model of a perfect pumper were awarded to the float with the most imagination.
Two days before the competition Sam called at Uncle Peter’s house for some last minute training. Inside he found Aunt Mabel questioning poor uncle thoroughly about the upcoming pumping contest. Mabel didn’t see why such a rude game should be allowed to continue. From the sound of it, a terribly pressed Peter was desperate to continue his quest.
Sensing Mabel’s strong case, Peter cleverly played his trump card. Luckily for him, after many months of snooping through old records, uncle had found his grandfather’s dusty old pumping manual. Judging by some equally ancient paperwork, it had been very highly regarded way back then.
In those days pumping in public was still frowned upon in Victorian England and illegal in many countries. So for his grandfather to have taken such a massive step by publishing the volume, he really must have been especially proud of his abilities. Therefore Peter rather naughtily suggested that he be allowed to continue an old family tradition. He also confessed it was a wonder he hadn’t caught wind of such amazing revelations earlier.
As we can imagine Aunt Mabel was far from pleased at the startling news. Yet she couldn’t deny the boys’ ancestry, and whilst she wouldn’t have such a rude subject discussed in her house, she couldn’t argue against these new facts. Following much tutting and clenching of teeth, she remarked they were both very silly boys and should grow up!
“Don’t worry aunt, I shan’t be pumping all my life, I promise. I have big plans for the future. At the moment pumping is a means to an end.”
“Tsk, I should think so too Sam. Pumping contests indeed!” she pouted, shaking her head sadly.
That very afternoon Sam read great grandfather’s entire book in only a few hours. Information hidden in there was incredibly detailed, including long sections devoted to diet and exercise. There was even a thrilling bonus chapter containing clever tricks Sam had never even considered before. It truly was a pumper’s paradise! This was a wonderful find and very interesting news for an eager young boy. Coming from such an illustrious background of bottom burpers, no wonder young Sam could pump so proficiently!
As he shut the book with an eager snap, a yellowed old sheet fell from behind the back cover. Sam’s eyes lit up like blazing suns. Even his constant light pumps died down to whispers. Why this exciting material hadn’t been included in the final text, Sam couldn’t tell. But wild scribbles formed part of grandfather’s notes, describing a tiny community near Beasley, popular long, long ago. Superstitious locals named the area Pilberry Place. It was said a being of great power lived there deep in the woods, surrounded by ancient guardian trees, strange magic, immensely powerful pumps and a wise woman of great age.
This mysterious pumper was also rumoured to be a gifted physic, who could tell a lucky persons future. Not surprisingly, great grandfather had been very keen indeed to find this enchanted creature. Sadly, although he felt he’d come very close once, he never did. Because of his lack of success, he affectionately dubbed this secretive being: ‘The Phantom of Pilberry Place.’
So, adventurous great grandfather hadn’t found him, but Sam had many aids the old man hadn’t. For one, detailed maps telling the lay of the land were freely available now. Sam thought long and hard about his enthralling find. Finally, near midnight, Sam vowed to seek the phantom pumper out after the contest, even if it took all summer. Some of the cleverest doctors in England had been unable to explain or stop Sam’s pumping so far. Recently his noisy windypops had grown steadily worse. Perhaps the Phantom Pumper knew the real reason for this? Maybe he could speak of Sam’s destiny, or cure him of his almost constant pumping?