By The Mole

'Oh, sod!' I thought as I pulled on to the side of the road beside a bus stop. 'A flat… and now of all times…'

I got out of the car and walked around to the front to look at the wheel. As I thought, it was flat. With a sigh of annoyance I opened the boot to fish out the spare tyre. Oh, damn! No jack and no wheelbrace… I'd lent them to one of my employees yesterday…

"Well, I'm going nowhere quickly…" I said aloud, dropping the spare wheel in disgust.

"Can I help?" came a soft female voice from behind me. I almost jumped out of my skin.

I turned to see a really cute blonde leaning against a tree. She had a good figure, was perhaps in her mid-20s, and was wearing an orange bikini-top and skirt. I stared open-mouthed, unable to speak for a moment. She was a knockout…

"I said 'can I help?'" she repeated herself when I still failed to answer. She hadn't moved from the tree.

"Oh, I'm sorry… No…" I was still a bit flustered. "It seems I'm stuck here. I don't have a jack to get the car up, or a brace to undo the nuts. Is there a phone around here." I walked around the car to talk to her, looking around to see nothing but trees. "Er… should you really be out here on your own?"

"Oh, I can take care of myself," she smiled pleasantly as she walked past me toward the car. "Want me to have a look?"

"Er… well," I didn't know quite what to say as she squatted down in front of the flat tyre. She was trying to help but after all it was pointless. "I don't suppose there's much you can do."

"Oh I don't know…" she smiled again and I thought I heard a small squeaking sound from somewhere. Then another… "Oh, look… These wheelnuts weren't on very tight…"

I walked around the car and the woman was turning them quite easily by hand. "Well, I'll be!" I exclaimed. "I could have had a nasty accident. Its lucky I had the puncture, or I'd never have known! Still it doesn't do me much good without a jack to get the car up."

"Ah," the blonde sighed. "Well, I just might be able to help you there…"

I looked at her, puzzled.

"Well…" she continued. "I'm a strong, healthy girl. Perhaps I can get the front of the car up off the ground for you?"

I was amazed that she should even think such a thing! Okay, my car isn't the biggest in the world, but a BMW 320 is still some 1500kg. I began to think she must be from some asylum or something. They have them in these out of the way places in case the patients escape.

"Er… no…" I tried to humour her. "I er… wouldn't want you to strain anything."

"Oh, come on!" she cried, excited. "Let's give it a go!" Without waiting for me, she stood at the front of my car and grasped it underneath the chassis in both hands.

"Now look, Miss," I cried, afraid she might do herself an injury. "I really think you ought… to… come… away… fr…" My voice gradually came to a stop as I saw the front of my car rise up off the ground.

I gasped as she succeeded in not only taking the weight off the wheels, but in taking the wheels entirely off the ground! She smiled at me as she squatted over the bonnet, holding the car some six or eight inches off the ground in her hands…

I couldn't believe it…

"Aren't you gonna change the wheel?" she reminded me after I'd just stood and stared at her for half a minute or so.

"Oh yeah…" I tried to shake myself out of the stunned disbelief I found myself in. As I worked, I was all fingers and thumbs. I kept dropping the nuts and it was taking me some time to complete the job.

As I was putting on the last nut for the third time, I became aware that the front of the car was rising up again… I looked up at the blonde to see that she was now standing upright, holding up my car with one hand, as she idly brushed her hair with the other and stared down the road into the distance. She was totally unconcerned with the ton or more weight she held up single-handed.

"Jesus!" I cried and stood up and back in quick succession.

The blonde looked at me as if I were mad, and then looked down at the front of my car, being held up by her single hand. "Oh shoot!" she exclaimed. "I didn't mean to do that. You won't tell anyone, will you?"

"I… I…" I tried to think what to say. "They'd never believe me…"

"There is that," she agreed. "But I wouldn't take it kindly if you were to go about telling stories…" and to prove her point she raised her right arm, and the front of my car, up higher and higher and then began pumping it up and down.

"I… er… take your point," I didn't know what else to say. "Not a word."

"Good," she grinned affably. "We understand each other. Now, are you gonna finish that tyre?"

It didn't take me long. I wanted to get away from here, and her, with all my limbs attached. She seemed friendly enough at the moment, but I didn't want hang about in case her mood changed. I finished, and she gently let the car down onto the ground.

"Er… well… thankyou…" I said hurridly, and climbed into my car. I switched on the ignition, put the car in gear and put my foot down in no small hurry… and proceeded precisely nowhere…

"What the…?" I said to myself, feeling the back of the car rise up this time, only with me in it! I looked in the rear view mirror. The mystery blonde was standing behind me. She waved at me… Then she waved with both hands… Why wasn't I moving?

I gave up and turned the engine off. I debated about whether or not to get out of the car, until I realized that a locked car door probably wouldn't stop her anyway, and I didn't want to upset her. I walked over to see that she had lifted the car off the ground with her left foot. That was why I wasn't going anywhere.

"Er… I just thought," she said before I could make up my mind what I was going to say. "As I've been so helpful in fixing your car, perhaps you could give me a lift into town. I've waited over an hour, and the bus doesn't seem to be coming."

Who was I to say no? And, if I did, I figured I wouldn't get very far. So she picked up a small bag from beside the tree and we both climbed into my car. Soon were doing a steady 50mph down the quiet highway.

"So what do you do for a living?" she asked me after several minutes.

"I own a circus," I told her.

"No, really…" she asked.

"Yes, really," I insisted.

"Oh! Wow!" she shrieked. "That's so cool. I always wanted to join a circus."

"So why didn't you?" I asked.

"Oh, I don't dance, or juggle, or anything like that…"

"But you lift cars…"

"Oh that…" she waved indifferently. "But circuses don't take strongwomen, they only take strongmen."

"Why?"

"They just do," she looked doubtful for a moment, and then looked at me directly. "Don't they?"

I suddenly had the feeling I was being put on the spot here. I wasn't sure I liked the way the conversation was turning. "Ah… well… yes… normally…"

"Does your circus have a strongman?" she asked me, studying my face intently.

"Well, yes," I answered truthfully, "but only until the end of the month. Mark's leaving us to go back to Canada." Damn! Why did I tell her that last part?

"So why not hire me?" she asked, a note of pleading in her voice.

" I… er…" I needed time to think. I did need to replace Mark, and I also needed a new attraction. Business hasn't been so good lately, and I was actually on my way to a meeting with my bank manager - or at least the manager of my bank's local branch in this wilderness.

It was at that moment that we pulled into town. The bank was only a hundred yards down the road and I quickly pulled into a parking space outside.

"Well?" she urged, excited.

"I don't know," I tried hard to think. "I can't employ just anyone. I need references…"

"The fact that I can do this doesn't count as a reference?" she smiled as she reached out with her right hand (My car is a British right-hand drive model) and bent my solid steel gearstick over ninety degrees without a sign of strain.

"You have a point," I admitted. "Look, can we discuss this later? I'm already twenty minutes late at the bank to see about my overdraft."

The blonde pouted prettily. "Okay…" she said doubtfully. "But you aren't thinking of running out on me, are you?"

"Certainly not!" I cried with more commitment than I actually felt. It had actually occurred to me.

"Well, okay then," the blonde looked at me thoughtfully, and I guessed that she was debating whether or not to trust me. Then she gripped my car's gear lever again and bent it right over toward the floor, making it unusable. "Just in case you had ideas of leaving early," she smiled.

We arranged to meet in a sandwich bar across the road and I went off to try to keep my circus open. It wasn't going well… I was twenty minutes late, the books were looking pretty poor, and Mr Robinson, the bank manager kept looking at his watch. I think I was keeping him from something… golf probably…

After listening to my appeal, Robinson was just about to give me what I knew was bad news when there was a knock at the door. A secretary poked her head through the door and looked straight me. "I'm sorry to interrupt," she said, "but your colleague has arrived."

Was she talking to me? She looked as if she were talking to me… What colleague? My questions were answered when in walked the cute blonde, only now she was wearing a tiny blue dress. It wasn't very business-like but at least it was more professional than what she'd been wearing earlier.

'Oh, no!' I thought. 'What's she doing here.' I winced. What was she going to say, or do? But I dare not say anything or look a complete fool and blow the deal completely.

Robinson's eyes perked up with interest as she walked in. She does have a certain presence. "Er… Good afternoon, Miss er… Miss…" he looked at me to introduce her, and I realized that I still didn't know her name myself.

"Zabreneva," she smiled. She smiles a lot, I noted absent-mindedly. "But please call me Zabbie."

"Unfortunately," Robinson began his summing up with a word I hadn't wanted to hear. "I… er… don't think the bank is in a position to extend your overdraft as you've requested. Attendances have been down, and I think it would be too much of a risk." I noticed how he kept stealing glances at the girl I now knew as Zabbie. Like me, I don't think he could believe his eyes.

"But that's where I've been brought into the organisation," Zabbie began, stunning me by sounding every bit the professional businesswoman. "With me on board, we anticipate attendances to increase out of all proportion."

"I'm sorry," Robinson looked puzzled, "and your role in the er… organisation is what? Marketing?"

"Marketing, certainly," Zabbie explained. "But we all have our role to play in performing at the circus too, and I've just been hired as the new strongwoman."

"Strongwoman…" Robinson repeated slowly. She was certainly fit looking, but she didn't look much like a strongwoman.

"Yes, and it's expected that I'll be pulling in extra customers by the thousands."

"I'm sorry, no offence, but I don't think one new act can make that much difference. Now, if you'll excuse me," Robinson stood up, indicating that the interview was over. "I have to get over to a locksmith before we close. I've lost the darn key to my briefcase." He picked up one of those Samsonite armoured briefcases from the floor and put it on his desk. "There are papers in there that I urgently need this afternoon."

"Can I help?" I'd heard those words before. Zabbie smiled that smile that says 'I know something you don't,' that I'd seen so often on her face today.

"No," Robinson looked up. "It won't open without the key. It’s a new model. I don't think you could open that with a stick of dynamite." He chuckled to himself, nervously.

"Oh, let me try," Zabbie reached out and grabbed the briefcase away from him. She turned it over and studied it carefully. "Hmmm… all-steel construction. Extra strengthening rods. Bullet-proof, bomb-proof, and lock-picking proof." She smiled up at Robinson. "Your locksmith won't be able to do anything with that. It'll have to go back to the manufacturers… or you can let me open it…"

Robinson looked up at Zabbie with a puzzled look. "But if the lock can't be picked, how would you open it?" he asked.

"Never mind that," Zabbie gave Robinson that smile again. "But in return for our overdraft," and she glanced sideways at me as she emphasized the word our. "I can open it."

Robinson looked thoughtful for a moment. "I must have those papers… Okay… If you can open the briefcase you can have the overdraft."

"Thankyou," the mysterious Zabbie replied, sounding contented. Personally I didn't see how it did us much good. I knew she was incredibly strong, but she wasn't going to get that case open in a month of…

My thoughts froze as I saw her hug the base of the case tightly against her chest. I tried hard not to look at the way it sank into the cleavage between her more than average-sized breasts.

Then she wrapped her arms around the case and began to squeeze it like in a bear hug. I swore I could hear the case making creaking sounds, but I had to be mistaken… didn't I? Then, without warning, the case crumpled up in her chest. It was just a buckled mass of metal.

Robinson and I just stared in silence as Zabbie tore open what remained of the case and presented the papers contained inside back to the bank manager.

"There you go…" she smiled sweetly at him, enjoying the look of discomfort on his face. "Now if you'd be so kind as to sign the appropriate forms, we'll be on our way…"

"Yes… of course…" Robinson was too stunned to argue. He just picked up several forms on his desk, signed them, and passed them over to me.

"Now don't you think we should be going?" Zabbie turned to me and indicated the door.

I was no less stunned than Robinson. I said nothing and I had to be physically led out of the room.

"Well that went well," Zabbie sighed as we sat in my car once again. "Now, can I have a look at this circus?"

I was still unable to speak, but I started the car and tried to put it in gear, only I couldn't find the gearstick.

"Oops… sorry," the blonde superwoman sat beside me giggled, before bending the gearshift up straight again so I could use it.

That done, I put the car in gear and drove off slowly… very slowly…