HANNAH BURTON	
by Anthony Durrant



Anthony Durrant 1 Hannah BurtonAnthony Durrant 1st N.A. Serial Rights

572 Westminster Avenue © Anthony Durrant, 2001

Ottawa, Ontario, Canada June 14, 2001

K2A 2V3 All Rights Reserved.

It was wonderful to be together again. Lucrezia, Eduardo and their son
Alejandro were back together again and everyone was happy. They were sharing a
pitcher of good old fashioned blueberry juice and sitting in the living room
of their Athens home. As Lucrezia poured herself a glass of the juice, there
was a horrible explosion; Alejandro threw himself over his mother, but Eduardo
was blown apart before their eyes. Lucrezia screamed loudly and was still
screaming when she woke up all drenched with sweat and gasping for breath.
Rising from the bed, she bent on one knee and lifted the bed with one hand
then grabbed a cloth and dusted under the bed with her right hand. After
finishing her dusting, she put down the bed and stood up, then walked over to
the bathroom to freshen herself up. She was still astonished by her appearance
and had never imagined in her wildest dreams that she would end up with a body
like this. These days, she was living in a small English village and going by
the name of Hannah Burton and six months ago, a few days after she and her son
had bought Carl Peters's old house and moved into town, Alejand- ro had
accidentally injected her with a new plant food that caused her to grow into a
7 foot tall Amazon. She was still trying to cope with the fact that she was
stuck that way forever, but she liked her new appearance and energy very much.
Removing her bonnet, Lucrezia shook out her hair and turned to face the
mirror. Her long hair fell down her back in dark waves and her skin was a
creamy pink; she was three hundred pounds of solid muscle and was amazed that
she was still alive after having spent several weeks trying to inject insulin
into herself with no success. It seemed as though she no longer needed the
drug and had finally stopped using insulin. All she'd had to show for her
efforts to inject the drug was a pile of broken needles.

"At least Alejandro is happy," she said to herself, "and that's what's
important to me."

Her son was away on a police convention and she was all alone for the week;
quickly she dressed herself in a newly-sown blouse and skirt which she had
made herself and went into their kitchen, where she made herself three bowls
of porridge and a stack of toast and downed it all in one sitting, then stood
up and put on a wide hat before walking out the door. On the way over to the
store, she overheard three young men talking.

"I'm going to dress up as that sword-wielding escaped convict and attack Barry
at the old grain mill during the masquerade party," one of them said, "when he
arrives dressed as a musketeer. I'll attack him, and then you jump him from
behind. When he beats me, you two run away and hide. That way, we can make
Barry into a hero and make a bundle doing it."

His two friends nodded their assent as Lucrezia walked past. She smiled to
herself.

"So Alejandro is trying to make himself look good, eh?" she thought. "Well,
he's gone to Sussex for the week and won't be back till Monday. I'd better
take his place."

She reached the store and did her shopping, and as soon as she came home,
Lucrezia put her newly purchased food in the cupboard and went to the old
chest that was in the attic and had belonged to Mr Peters; opening it, she
found some old masquerade costumes including a musketeer suit that was meant
for a large man, probably Mr Peters himself. It was far too large for her son
to wear, but it would fit her - although not as well as it had Mr Peters. She
put on the dusty costume and found that, although Mr. Peters had been smaller
than her, she could wear the costume although it fit her huge frame very
tightly. There was, however, a space between the tunic and the pants that
allowed her belly to show. Whisking a cloth drape off a mannequin, Lucrezia
tied it around her waist, hiding the gap, then put on the full-face mask with
the wire mesh at the bottom, which completed the disguise and completely hid
her face from view.

"I think," she said, "that I will look very elegant tonight."

When she came into the ballroom of the lord's residence, Lucrezia was wearing
the frilly hat with the red feather on top that had come with the disguise.
She had several glasses of wine and found that it no longer affected her - her
mutated body easily assimilated the drink. During the third dance, three
figures dropped down the chimney and went into the ballroom. Their ring-
leader was a tall man in a red and white touque who wielded a saber deftly. He
pointed the long sword directly at Lucrezia and said in a deep voice:

"Your costume or your life!"

In answer, Lucrezia drew her own sword and aimed it at the man in the touque.
She ran toward him, but he deftly sidestepped and lunged at her; stepping
back, she blocked his thrust and lunged forward, then blocked another thrust
and followed him as he backpedaled and leaped upon a table, from which he
thrust at her and she blocked his thrust again. He jumped backward only to
have Lucrezia leap after him like some huge bird of prey. Lunging forward, he
pushed the point of his sword into Lucrezia's neck - and even though it didn't
hurt her, the maneuver only made Lucrezia even angrier. Up to now she'd been
holding back, reluctant to use her full muscle power against the young
show-off, but the attack on her person enraged her enough to forget she was a
lady. She lunged forward viciously, tearing the man's shirt and wounding him
in the side, drawing a little blood. Then she hurled herself forward, throwing
her saber at a vase on the huge mantle just above the young man's head, which
fell over on him and smashed to pieces, knocking him out. Sheathing her sword,
she let out a big belly laugh as the man's two associates fled into the night.
A man dressed as Robin Hood bent down over the fallen man - the Sergeant.

"I hope my son never pulls a stunt like this again!" Lucrezia snapped. "I'll
make sure he's severely punished for this little jest. I only hope the lord
doesn't make me pay for the vase."

"That's not the man, Mrs Burton!" the Sergeant snapped back. "That's the real
convict."

"I'm over here, Ma'arm!" said a tall young waiter. "Barry was able to call off
our jest as he left the hotel after the first meeting of the police
convention."

"You mean that's the real convict . . . ?" Lucrezia asked.

"Congratulations on capturing a dangerous man!" the Sergeant said as he cuffed
the man.

Lucrezia sat down in a chair at the edge of the dance floor, astonished beyond
words, her hand over her mouth and her great frame trembling.

She was still amazed the next day when she read of the capture in the morning
paper. In the sports section was a separate article describing how a Greek
athlete who had been competing in a marathon had been caught cheating and had
been stripped of his award - her own nephew, a young man she had always
encouraged to follow his heart.

"I'll kill him for this!" she cried. "My nephew has brought dishonour on our
family!"

Meanwhile, the organizers of the annual bicycle race met at the Pub as they
did each and every year since the first race was run. This year, one of the
issues was the selection of the new referee - Abel Gance, the man who'd
refereed the last 25 races, had suffered a fatal heart attack at his home near
the edge of the village and they needed a replacement.

"How about Mrs Burton?" Mrs Bradshaw asked. "She was in athletics a long time
ago."

"How long ago?" the lord asked her.

"When she was in high school," she told him, "Mrs Burton ran a decathlon and
was able to finish although she told me she was bedridden for days afterward."

"Heatstroke?" Sergeant Clapton asked.

"Exhaustion," Mrs Bradshaw said, "from being hyperactive for too long and too
stressed. She vowed never to repeat the experience again."

"She no longer is into athletics?" Peter Darren, Carl Peters's nephew, asked.

"No," Mrs Bradshaw said, "but she's the only one in the village even remotely
qualified."

It was thus that as she ate the three pasta dinners she had cooked for lunch,
Lucrezia saw a white envelope drop from her mail slot. When she bent down and
picked it up, she noticed the insignia of the bicycle race and opened the
envelope; written on a card inside the envelope was a message addressed to her
that read:

"Dear Mrs. Burton:

"You are cordially invited to be the official coach of this year's bicycle
race.

- yours very truly,

the Race Committee."

Throwing on a coat, she walked down to the address on the card, where she
accepted the Race Committee's invitation; she was not really a bitter woman
and was quite forgiving.

"Mr Blacksheep is charting out the course for this year's race," the Sergeant
told her, "and I'm sure he has a few tricks up his sleeve, so he'll be very
busy until the start of the race."

"I hope he stays away from me while I read the rule book!" Lucrezia said with
a smile.

"He's afraid of Amazons, Mrs Burton!" Clapton said. "Don't worry - he'll leave
you alone and not disturb your peace of mind."

"If he does cross me -" Lucrezia said, flexing her biceps which swelled to the
size of two muskmelons, "-he'll be in for it for sure - I want to have privacy
while I memorize the rules."

Everyone knew what she meant.

"You'll get your privacy, Mrs. Burton," Clayton said, "so don't worry about
Blacksheep."

When she sat in old Abel's coaching chair at the starting line on the day of
the race, all of the villagers marvelled at her huge physique and especially
her long powerful arms. Years younger than her age, she looked down from the
stand and smiled at the racers, who ogled her as she giggled like a little
girl at the sight of the look on their faces; shamefacedly, the racers turned
to the starting line and the race starter walked up to the side of the racer
on the right.

"On your mark!" he cried, raising his pistol. "Get set - GO!"

At the sound of the pistol shot, the racers leaped into action. They pedalled
down over the crest of the hill and soon everyone had disappeared. Leaping
from her chair, Lucrezia ran after them, anxious to follow the race. She ran
down the hill and followed the racers down an old dirt road, where they turned
left and she followed them. Along the way she found a biker lying on the road
with his bicycle lying on its top, the two wheels still spinning. Lifting the
man off the road with ease, she lifted him over her broad back and walked down
to the grass, where she put him down; he woke up and looked up at her with a
smile - it was Peter Darren himself.

"I fell over forward while trying to make the turn," he said softly, "and went
head over heels over the top of my bike. Did I break anything?"

Lucrezia shook her head.

"No," she said, "but you have sprained your ankle, probably when the bicycle
fell on top of you. You should have been more careful when you rounded the
bend."

Looking up, the huge woman noticed an abandoned house by the side of the road
and was puzzled to see that there appeared to be a light in the window.
Meanwhile, Peter had fainted, so she put him in the recovery position and left
him there to rest while she investigated. It was hot, so she took out a large
box of blueberry juice, opened it up, and downed the whole box. Immed- iately
she felt a burst of energy as her mutated body assimilated the beverage, then
walked to the window and looked inside. Through the window she saw three
people arguing and heard one of them say in a a loud and angry voice:

"They've disqualified our man - he's not getting the medal or the prize
money."

"My nephew Enrico!" she cried. "He must be up to something crooked."

"How will we pay the debt, then?"

"We'll have to ask for a ransom from his family."

This was too much for Lucrezia. Rushing back to the field, she picked up an
old javelin and threw it directly at the window, which shattered under the
force of her powerful throw. She ran toward the house and leaped through the
smashed window. Lucrezia attacked the three men but they brought her down
through force of numbers and tied the Amazon's arms behind her back with steel
cables before leading her up to the master bedroom of the old house.

"You can stay here," one of them said, "while we call your son to ask for the
ransom and keep our other guest company while the three of us are busy
downstairs."

With that, one of the men pushed her into the room and closed the door behind
here. On the bed, with his arms tied to the bedposts, was her nephew Enrico!
He had been taken prisoner by the three men, and what's more, he had been
wounded.

"Enrico!" she cried. "What are you doing here?"

"These men kidnapped me, Aunt Lucrezia!" Enrico cried. "They replaced me with
a - an impostor before the start of the race and that impostor was
disqualified for using steroids. One of them told me they were trying to pay
off a debt with the prize money from the race."

"Oh, those men!" she cried. "Those rascally men!"

She strained against the heavy cables but not even her strength was enough to
break them and she slumped forward in defeat. Then she saw a can of blueberry
juice on the bedside table, and, punching through the lid with her teeth, she
downed the juice. A burst of power surged into her muscles and she burst the
cables easily, then broke her nephew free. Because the chemical that had
enhanced her had been meant for a plant, juice made her even stronger.

"We've got to get out of here!" she cried.

She carried him toward the door, but when she kicked it open, she was met by
the three men, who were holding knives.

"Drop him," one of them snarled, "or we cut you up!"

Lucrezia dropped Enrico and raised her hands, then backed into the room as the
men advanced. Grabbing hold of a large paperweight, she drew back her arm and
threw it at one of the men, who was knocked out cold by the force of her
throw, then hurled herself on the other two men who were knocked over like
bowling pins by her sheer weight. One of them hit her in one of her large
breasts and broke his hand, but she wasn't even bruised.

"Now," she cried as she tied the men up, "we're out of here!"

Grabbing Enrico, she leaped through the bedroom window onto the back lawn,
then ran around the house to the front and down the lawn to the racetrack,
where she had left Peter. Still unconscious, he lay by the side of the road
moaning piteously. Laying Enrico down beside him, Lucrezia placed a stone
under his head and pulled on his collar so hard the buttons popped off as she
opened it, then gave him a drink from his water bottle and searched his
pockets. In one of them, she found a small pouch; opening the pouch, she found
uncut diamonds inside! A police car arrived on the scene and two officers went
in and brought out the three men. One of the two officers saw Lucrezia with
the two men and walked over.

"I found this on Peter's body!" she cried, tossing him the pouch. "He's a
jewel thief."

He opened the pouch and looked inside.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Burton!" he cried. "You've solved the Bright's jewel
robbery!"

"It didn't occur to me until after I rescued my nephew there," she said, "but
only a shoddy cyclist would have used only the left brake, especially on a
turn. He must have robbed the store just before he entered the race and would
have used the time to make his getaway."

"I turn my back once, Mama," Barry said over the speaker phone, "and you turn
into a great detective. I'm really proud of you for solving the case."

"How did the police car get on the scene so quickly?"

"I called them!" he said. "When I read about Enrico's cheating in the Bolton
newspaper, and saw the picture of him they had printed, I knew immediately
that the man in the picture was an impostor - someone was trying to tamper
with the race."

"How did you know they were hiding out near the racetrack?" Lucrezia asked.

"It was the logical place to hold my cousin after they kidnapped him," Barry
said, "empty for years and completely deserted. Also, the front lot was used
as a track-and-field staging area a short time ago, so Enrico's kidnappers
believed they were completely safe - until you spotted the three men arguing
over what to do next in the window . . ."

"And crashed in."

"And crashed in!" Barry said. "You're going to get full credit for solving
that jewel heist, and I'm sure the reward money will make you rich enough to
live out the rest of your life comfortably, enjoying the effects of that plant
food."

"I already am, Barry darling!" his mother said. "What reward money?"

"You remembered! The finder's fee for the jewels, of course!" Barry said.
"You'll get a third of the value for which the stolen gems were insured . . .
and diamonds are valuable."

Lucrezia laughed.

"Rich!" she cried. "I'm rich! I'm filthy rich!"

Then she stopped. Suddenly she realized she was already rich in everything
that mattered - she had a comfortable home, a handsome young son who loved her
no matter what and muscles that bulged with power. What more could a girl
want?

"What are you going to do with the reward money, Mrs. Burton?" Mike asked.

"Give it all to charity, of course!" she cried. "I don't need the money, Mr.
Bradshaw - I'm already rich, and my riches are the riches I've earned through
love."

At that moment the Sergeant walked into the police station looking bitter.

"That fool of a Blacksheep changed all the signs around!" he said. "The race
is void."

Grabbing both Mike and the Sergeant, Lucrezia ran around the station with them
perched on her broad shoulders, laughing so happily that her son joined in
over the speaker.

THE END