Created for easy reading with good font sizing this non-picture book is perfect for young readers 8-14 years old & for those learning English as a second language.
In the drowsy heat of a summer afternoon, a large car travelled along a back country road, clouds of dust billowing behind it. There had been no rain for weeks and everything was gaspingly dry.
Summery white clouds were heaped along the horizon like huge soap bubbles in a bathtub while, well out to sea, a container ship moved steadily south. Closer in, a catamaran, its white sails taut in the breeze, skimmed across the sparkling water.
Peter Cameron manoeuvred the car through tight curves and along the short straight stretches with ease, his wife Carol sitting, half asleep beside him. In the back seat were two boys of about twelve and thirteen, and a girl of about ten, also half asleep. Their early excitement at the prospect of a beach holiday had waned and they were now hot, tired and very bored. All the windows were open wide and the wind tugged at their hair as they sped along.
Suddenly there was a yell from the back seat. “The beach! There it is!”
Everyone craned their neck and sure enough, there far below, was the beach, glittering bright in the sunlight, the golden sand inviting and spacious.
“Not long now, guys.” Peter called to his family.
“Boy! Am I glad of that! I can’t wait to go for a swim. Look at it!”
“Just think! A week at the beach! A whole week!”
The car swooped down the last hill, over the metal cattle bars at the side of the road and rumbled across the rough paddock to where they thought they would like to put their tent. There were no other tents and the only building was a small grey shack far down the beach.
The boys spilled out and raced across the grass to the sand and stood eyeing the glittering water. Their sister walked slowly beside her mother, eager to run but wanting to help. Peter called them back.
“Hey you guys, come back and help us unload. Got to get all organized before dark.”
“Dark’s ages away yet, Dad. Let’s have a swim first.”
“The tent! Now!”
The boys shrugged as they ran back to help and in no time at all, the tent was up and everything was stowed away from the sun and heat.
“Okay, that’s the tent and all the stuff away. Now you can go for a swim if you want to.”
This New Zealand based adventure book leads young readers on an amazing adventure through tough times & irresistible challenges.Created for easy reading with good font sizing this non-picture book it is perfect for children 8-14 years old & for those learning English as a second language.
ABOUT THE METEOR RIDERS:
A change through time. An irresistible challenge.A chance to help.This is what it took to make life interesting for these young people. The rain of meteors caught the attention of more than one person that night. Andrew, Stephen and their new friends, Col and Stefan struggled to change things to make the world a better place as thousands more spent hours watching the display over the following weeks. By the time the meteors were finished for the year, the past and the future of their world were changed for ever.
In an old house on the outskirts of the city, Andrew sat in his wheelchair, watching as something flashed outside his bedroom window. The room was spacious; the bed at one end while a workbench with his computer equipment was at the other end. A side table and many bookshelves at the right height for a wheelchair person made for a completely independent world for him to occupy.
Andrew’s voice carried clearly to the living room where his parents were watching TV.
“Wow! Wouldya look at that! Hey Mum, Dad! Have a look at this!”
As they entered his room, he moved aside slightly to allow them to peer out the window at the meteors that flashed across the skies.
“Look! I never saw as many as this! They’re like sideways rain!”
His mother grabbed a rug from the chair and dropped it across his shoulders.
“Pretty chilly rain if you ask me. Here put this rug round your shoulders before you freeze to death.”
The wind was sharp and cold and in the darkening sky the first few stars were already glittering icily. They watched in silence for a while, but before long they went back to watching TV and Andrew wheeled himself back to the computer.
Andrew’s friend Stephen was waiting for him to appear. Stephen lived on a back country sheep station, far to the south and the boys kept in touch most evenings and especially on the night for the weekly online meetings. There were several other boys who lived too far from town and this was their best means of communication. Most of their early education had been done on computers and by now the group was well versed in IT matters.
Stephen was first on-line and his message was brief.
Long Acre is part of another KATE STIRLING HISTORICAL TRILOGY, set in New Zealand from 1946, depicting the impact of the war years on the characters.
The wind whistled through the dark she-oaks as the small funeral procession wound its way to the chapel but no-one noticed or cared. Everyone who mattered was there. An older man, tall, strong looking and uncomfortable in a dark suit, his two adult sons and one teenaged daughter plus a few locals formed the party. The daughter stood apart while her father carried his new-born baby daughter.
The baby moved, restless, and her father absently rubbed her back as he stared at the open grave. Rose, his darling Rose, gone for ever. All his dreams and hopes for their future shattered and in his arms, the cause of all the grief.
He forced himself to look at the little face, almost hidden by the shawl as it was.
“Well, little one, you better be worth it. A high price to pay.”
At home after the funeral he held out the child to his daughter, but Arial refused to take her. She stood, feet firmly apart as she shook her head, dark eyes clouded.
“Dada, I can’t have her. I’ve done my bit with the boys and now I have only a little time before I go to Training College. I don’t want to spend the next five or ten years of my life looking after her. She’s yours, you do it.”
“But she needs a warm breast to cuddle into.”
“You have just as many as I have and I think they are bigger.”
Dada scowled as she laughed and walked away. He wasn’t fat and he wasn’t woman!
“Wait.” He called after her. “Give her three months. Just three months. I’ll look after her at nights and through the day when you have to be away. Three months? Please?”
Arial shrugged as she left the room, calling over her shoulder.
“Okay. Three months; not a minute more though.”
Dada nodded his shaggy head and pulled the shawl down to expose the little red face.
”You hear that then? Three months and then you’re stuck with me. Make the most of it, little one.”
The baby yawned widely as if this was not her problem.