Pete(1)‘Intervention Plan’ (Young adult; adventure/sci-fi)
July 19th 2007 06:48
Chapter One
'Dog Gone'
Tomas Banks used to think his boisterous cattle dog, Bluey, was relatively normal. He did all the things an ordinary dog would do, like chase the neighbour's cat round the clothes line until the podgy feline had enough and would spin about to deliver a nasty swipe of claws to Bluey's snout. He'd bring disgusting, smelly things into the yard and chew and roll until Tomas' dad, John, had shovelled the mess up and hauled Bluey to the hose for thorough washing. And don’t forget the foul smell that caused such a ruckus in the lounge room some nights. Yes, he was just like any other dog.
Then something happened, Bluey started to do strange, unexplainable things. Tomas knew something weird was going on straightaway, he just didn't know what. It all began on the first Wednesday of the month, the morning Bluey carried on like a real crazy dog. Tomas had woken early; he played halfback for the Bulldogs Under 12-football team and with the Finals a month away, there was training for an hour each Wednesday before class.
As the sun poked its fiery head over the horizon this fine morning, Tomas pulled on his boots, grabbed his bag and jumped off the back-verandah. Normally, Bluey was in his kennel and leapt out to join him, only this morning his trusty mate was nowhere to be seen. Tomas stopped and whistled, the shrill two-handed type, expecting his dog to come scrambling from beneath the house—Bluey's second favourite hiding-spot—only he did not. Bluey was nowhere to be seen.
Tomas then set-off at a jog, thinking, 'he's out prowling around again. He won't be far away'
He ran down the track winding past Ma Walmer's house, the shortcut through the old mine and down to the Oval. Ma's white and tan terrier, Scruffy, guarding the yard from his position on the porch, came scurrying out for his usual bark-and-run manoeuvre. Bluey is always with Tomas, and often times ignored Scruffy's outburst. On occasion though, Bluey might jump the fence and barrel the terrier in a lively scuffle, you know, just to remind Scruffy who is boss. However this particular morning, the little terrier wheeled-off and took position back on the porch, pointy-head darting left and right, his blue friend was nowhere to be seen.
And that was the point Tomas began to worry in earnest about his dog. 'Where are you Bluey?' He thought, concerned.
Tomas stopped at the fence circling the grounds of the old mine. Scarborough coalmine had been closed for many years now, but when the sound of heavy machinery roared through the air, this fence was well maintained, it's barbwire-top ensuring ‘no access’. Then the caretaker left and soon after a hole appeared in the wire, not only providing a handy shortcut to the oval, but a forbidden adventure land for a boy and his dog.
Tomas whistled again. Then again. Silence followed, no familiar barks, no crashing of undergrowth. "Bluey!" He yelled, surveying the mine for any movement. Then Tomas remembered the last time Bluey went missing—out all night in fact—when someone's lady-dog in the neighbourhood was irresistible to male dogs at that time. Bluey was still home by morning though. Tomas couldn't afford to waste any more time waiting; his team needed to work on the set-moves he planned to use in the Final. Without further ado, he squeezed through the gap in the fence and hit the ground running. ©
'Dog Gone'
Tomas Banks used to think his boisterous cattle dog, Bluey, was relatively normal. He did all the things an ordinary dog would do, like chase the neighbour's cat round the clothes line until the podgy feline had enough and would spin about to deliver a nasty swipe of claws to Bluey's snout. He'd bring disgusting, smelly things into the yard and chew and roll until Tomas' dad, John, had shovelled the mess up and hauled Bluey to the hose for thorough washing. And don’t forget the foul smell that caused such a ruckus in the lounge room some nights. Yes, he was just like any other dog.
As the sun poked its fiery head over the horizon this fine morning, Tomas pulled on his boots, grabbed his bag and jumped off the back-verandah. Normally, Bluey was in his kennel and leapt out to join him, only this morning his trusty mate was nowhere to be seen. Tomas stopped and whistled, the shrill two-handed type, expecting his dog to come scrambling from beneath the house—Bluey's second favourite hiding-spot—only he did not. Bluey was nowhere to be seen.
Tomas then set-off at a jog, thinking, 'he's out prowling around again. He won't be far away'
He ran down the track winding past Ma Walmer's house, the shortcut through the old mine and down to the Oval. Ma's white and tan terrier, Scruffy, guarding the yard from his position on the porch, came scurrying out for his usual bark-and-run manoeuvre. Bluey is always with Tomas, and often times ignored Scruffy's outburst. On occasion though, Bluey might jump the fence and barrel the terrier in a lively scuffle, you know, just to remind Scruffy who is boss. However this particular morning, the little terrier wheeled-off and took position back on the porch, pointy-head darting left and right, his blue friend was nowhere to be seen.
Tomas stopped at the fence circling the grounds of the old mine. Scarborough coalmine had been closed for many years now, but when the sound of heavy machinery roared through the air, this fence was well maintained, it's barbwire-top ensuring ‘no access’. Then the caretaker left and soon after a hole appeared in the wire, not only providing a handy shortcut to the oval, but a forbidden adventure land for a boy and his dog.
Tomas whistled again. Then again. Silence followed, no familiar barks, no crashing of undergrowth. "Bluey!" He yelled, surveying the mine for any movement. Then Tomas remembered the last time Bluey went missing—out all night in fact—when someone's lady-dog in the neighbourhood was irresistible to male dogs at that time. Bluey was still home by morning though. Tomas couldn't afford to waste any more time waiting; his team needed to work on the set-moves he planned to use in the Final. Without further ado, he squeezed through the gap in the fence and hit the ground running. ©
| 46 |
| Vote |
Subscribe to this blog
