Bolt Out Of The Blue

By Rick Haynes

Do you believe in a little magic?
A financial crisis is threatening to engulf the lives of two farming families.
Jack and Dan Moore are being relentlessly pushed to the very brink of dispair.
A strange animal enters their lives in a most improbable way.
Is he their saviour or will they lose everything, including their families?
The story provides a wonderful insight into the strong bonds of love that is stretched to breaking point.
Set in Southern England with an American twist, an old tale is visited, a vital secret shared, and a gift from yesteryear uncovered.
A little magic in your heart can go a long, long way!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rick Haynes
• Release date: Aug 29, 2013
• ISBN: 9781311372062

Rick Haynes

Hi, my name is Rick Haynes. I am an author and award winning Drabblist.My passion is medieval fantasy but I also write short stories and Drabbles in many different genres.This is my realm.Ever upwards, never stopping, the staircase to the heavens awaits all those wishing to dream.And all you have to do is place one foot on the first step.Consider the endless possibilities, as you climb higher and higher.Boredom is unknown in my time and space, for can you not see the stars sparkling bright, ready to enlighten you?Is your mind ready to absorb the endless possibilities of a million words?And are you ready to join me on a magical journey?I will embrace you with open arms.And welcome you into the world of my imagination.

Book preview

BOLT

OUT OF THE BLUE

RICK HAYNES

Rick Haynes asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

COPYRIGHT © RICK HAYNES 2013

All of the characters, names and organisations in this book are fictitious and are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, events or organisations, either living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any other means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

This book is dedicated to my wife who taught me that gentle love is worth more than all the gold in the world.

My grateful thanks to Kath for her guidance.

Foreword

It is not often that I can read a story, or watch a film or television programme these days without the characters using bad language. Violent and aggressive behaviour, especially to those closest to them, usually follows and naturally they have no manners, courtesy or compassion for their fellow beings. Even the best medicine in the world – humour – is blighted by sarcasm.

In this age of violence, sex and drugs, there are many people happy with modern day tales. I cannot condemn them, as I have indeed journeyed along that road. However my tale will hopefully find favour with those who share in the values of bygone years, and perhaps even to those who prefer modern day spice with their reading.

My story provides an insight into the struggle of two close families, fighting to combat impending financial doom, and the anguish they feel in letting each other and their children down. It explores the most precious of all emotions – love – boundless love without histrionics. The love between families, binding themselves together in adversity, should encourage great feelings in all of us and that...that is the basis of my tale.

You will see how the families try to pull together, sharing their joint pain, protecting their children and relying on the love of all of them to try to overcome their predicament. However the love of two animals takes over their lives in a way that is beyond their understanding, which leads to an old secret being uncovered and a change of ways forever.

So sit back and take in a journey of improbability.

I hope that you enjoy my first story, for...

A little magic in your heart, can go a long, long way!

BELIEVE

When the cold light of day takes its toll on awakening slumber,

And the air is still with silence,

The man with true purpose can find hope in his heart,

And strength in his will to succeed.

It may not come from normality.

It may not even call.

It may not come immediately.

It may not come at all.

But the power of the land so entwined in all things,

Can turn a glow of feeble desire into a dazzling flame,

To reach out and awaken keen senses,

And let flow the words to caress imagination.

Chapter 1

A Strange Meeting

Lying full length on wet soil with the rain trickling down the back of my Hoortex coat was not my idea of fun. Droplets of water were finding their way into some very unusual and unwanted places. At 6.00 in the morning, with the sun still absent, an early start was essential for me to complete my mission. Even so I found little satisfaction in it. I thought of my quarry; unseen and silent in the early morning dawn. It had yet to come into view as the fine rain drifted across my line of sight like lace curtains in a breeze. Today would be difficult and to pass the time, I thought of other things, like a warm fire and a hot drink. I let my mind wander rather than feel sorry for myself. Visibility was poor and my eyes ached so I tried to be positive. I caressed my powerful .22 calibre Air Arms Pro Sport rifle complete with telescopic sights (range up to 100 yards) and thought of the successful walk back. Unfortunately negative thoughts overpowered the positive ones. Even with my superb marksmanship I felt the hopelessness of even considering seeing my target let alone hitting it. The morning would be slow, unsuccessful or both; where was that sun?

The thought of patience being a virtue jumped into my head so I hung onto it like a leech. I put up with the rain and remained where I was.

Time passed slowly and I became wetter and wetter. The bird song was welcoming as it emanated all around me. The winged wonders sought food to break their fast, totally oblivious to the damp conditions as they flew from branch to branch. The odd flash of plumage came into view as they passed and I could hear the rustles of small animals in the trees and bushes. I wished I could be as comfortable with the conditions as they, so I rubbed my weathered hands together to at least create the illusion of warmth. I may be cold but my hands had to have feeling in them. At this moment I would gladly buy a pint for the person who invented woollen lined waterproof gloves. It was such a pity that my own waterproof coat, together with my lovely warm gloves, had been stolen from the back of my car. My big brother’s coat was just too big to prevent the water incursion down my neck. Naturally this exacerbated my miserable state. It was madness to continue but to move meant failure. I never moved.

I looked at my cheap plastic digital watch, that my wife bought me some eight years before. It was scratched and battered and yet the accuracy and durability of it never failed to amaze me. I gave myself another five minutes maximum but within two, the sun’s rays at last began to clear the mist.

Slowly the visibility changed. I took in the contours of the pasture in front of me. The rain still dripped from the fronds as it cascaded steadily to the wet earth, but my eyes focused on the mist. Or lack of it!

The mist slowly dissipated from view as if by magician’s command. I could now see. Thus all became clearer as I peered through the grass and bracken, via the telescopic sight of my rifle.

Suddenly I saw what I sought and a surge of adrenalin coursed through my body.

A head briefly rose from a hollow about 45 yards away and my concentration levels rose immediately. I knew that it would rise again in the very near future and when it did I would have more than enough time to make the kill. Sure enough the head lifted itself from the hollow and the body naturally followed. I took aim and gently squeezed the trigger. The lifeless body hit the earth as I watched through my telescopic sight. A thin smile spread across my face. Satisfaction with regret ruled my feelings.

Dinner was now assured although I did need a few more rabbits to feed all of us. Rabbits are very much creatures of habit. They need to judge the distance of an object as the position of their eyes gives them a poor depth of field. By bobbing up and down they can overcome this. Thus I knew that once the first head popped up, our favourite stew would be a reality this evening. Rabbits can become a real nuisance but I kept them in check and the family received fresh meat. It was quick and humane, although it still saddened me a little. At least I could never contemplate using traps, or even worse gas.

Without hesitation I sought out more targets as rabbit after rabbit came into view. My trusty rifle made little noise and I knew that I should be able to take a good half dozen of them before they ran for cover. With four bagged already my smile grew wide. I remembered my brothers teasing about me shooting nothing in this fog. I also recalled his parting comment that we would all be eating beans on toast, with me being the hunter. The memory of his bellyaching caused another smile to drift across my face. Unfortunately, on congratulating myself, I lost concentration. I casually lined up my sights on a large rabbit when something very unusual, or in this case unique, happened.

I saw a flash of white and a blur of speed as something came hurtling towards me. I wrenched my eye from the rifle only just in time, as a bundle of white fur leapt through the foliage hitting me squarely between the eyes. Momentarily surprised and utterly confused I had fallen backwards into a bed of stinging nettles. I found that they were the least of my troubles as a pure white albino rabbit was sitting on my chest. It looked at me with large red piercing eyes. The hackles on its back were raised in alarm although it made no sound and no attempt to hop away. The whiskers twitched and I saw the hackles recede ever so slightly as it edged closer to my face. When it stopped it raised its back leg to scratch its face, all the while staring at me. Looking into its ruby red eyes I saw