The Something Trilogy: Something Beautiful – Something Good – Something Special

By Christopher Shennan

A trilogy of books to inspire and motivate youth to follow Christ. All three novels set in the time period near the end of Apartheid in South Africa Something Beautiful Sandy Johnson is not beautiful, at least not as beautiful as Amanda and Helen, her two arch enemies who are making her life miserable. Something Good Can anything good come out of a family given to crime? This is the question Leon de Bruyn, and the residents of the small town of Paulpietersburg, will have to answer. Something Special In a country and time where a person’s value is determined by the colour of their skin, only trouble can result when a coloured boy meets a beautiful White girl.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: Jul 8, 2014
• ISBN: 9781483413655

Book preview

THE

SOMETHING

TRILOGY

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– SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL –

– SOMETHING GOOD –

– SOMETHING SPECIAL –

(Three Novels in One Volume for Young People)

by

CHRISTOPHER SHENNAN

Illustrations by Allison Scholtens

Copyright © 2014 Christopher Shennan.

Cover art and inside illustrations by Allison Scholtens:

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All rights reserved solely by the author. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

Scripture quotations taken from the New American Standard Bible®, Copyright © 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission." (www.Lockman.org)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-1364-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-1365-5 (e)

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Lulu Publishing Services rev. date: 06/19/2014

Contents

SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL

Chapter 1:   Outside the Gate

Chapter 2:   The Chase

Chapter 3:   The Rescue

Chapter 4:   Love at the Old Farmhouse

Chapter 5:   The Bullfrog

Chapter 6:   Fire!

Chapter 7:   Shadow at the Window

Chapter 8:   The Town Meeting

Chapter 9:   At the Scene of the ‘Crime’

Chapter 10:   How the Blind can See

Chapter 11:   Amanda’s Trouble

Chapter 12:   Shane Finds Proof

Chapter 13:   The Eye of the Storm

Chapter 14:   A Light in the Darkness

Chapter 15:   Miracles can Happen to Anyone

Chapter 16:   Helen Awakes

SOMETHING GOOD

Chapter 1:   The New Boy

Chapter 2:   The Watcher

Chapter 3:   Fuel on the Fire

Chapter 4:   Leon’s Story

Chapter 5:   Sergeant Kotze

Chapter 6:   The Robbery

Chapter 7:   The Boxing Tournament

Chapter 8:   Overheard

Chapter 9:   The Fight

Chapter 10:   Winners can be Losers

Chapter 11:   Can Things Get Any Worse?

Chapter 12:   Where has Leon Gone?

Chapter 13:   Kidnapped!

Chapter 14:   Town Gossip

Chapter 15:   Fear and Faith

Chapter 16:   Flash Flood

Chapter 17:   Ouma’s Smile

SOMETHING SPECIAL

Chapter 1:   The Meeting

Chapter 2:   The Accident

Chapter 3:   Uncle Sol’s Visit

Chapter 4:   Amanda’s Homecoming

Chapter 5:   The Picnic Spot

Chapter 6:   Joy and Pain

Chapter 7:   The Trouble begins

Chapter 8:   The Investigation

Chapter 9:   The Squeaky Clarinet

Chapter 10:   Friendship and Dreams

Chapter 11:   A Bold Plan

Chapter 12:   Mixed Blessings

Chapter 13:   The Uproar

Chapter 14:   The Looming Menace

Chapter 15:   Plans and Perils

Chapter 16:   Through Fire

Chapter 17:   The Wiggling Toes

Chapter 18:   Facing the Music6

SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL

Notice

The setting for this story, and the two following, is an actual place in South Africa. The place names and scenery are for the most part real. However, the story itself is fictional, a product of the author’s imagination. If the characters in this book bear any resemblance to persons living or dead, it is without design or intention. The author declares himself without responsibility for any such coincidences. C.S.

Acknowledgments

Even though Allison Scholtens’ name appears on the title page as the illustrator of this trilogy, she deserves special mention here.

While taking a double Major at university Allison managed to execute all these pictures, squeezing it into her busy schedule. She is a young woman of remarkable talent in both art and music. I count myself fortunate to have found such a dedicated artist to illustrate the pages of these books. Thank you, Allison.

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Chapter One

OUTSIDE THE GATE

Sandy’s heart thumped against her chest. She saw them at the school gate as she rounded the corner. Her cheeks burned with shame and she wondered whether the children rushing past her could also hear the thumping. Shock at seeing the gang waiting brought her to a halt. She stood like a statue, staring at them. They were up to no good. That was for sure.

Sandy did not have the slightest doubt the gang was waiting for her. So far they had not noticed her presence, so she had an opportunity to watch from a distance.

Amanda was the hardest for Sandy to look at since she was the prettiest. Her golden hair gleamed in the sun as it fell in beautiful tresses all the way down to her waist. Her face, too, was well formed with wide, interesting eyes. She had long eyelashes. At thirteen, one year older than Sandy, her slim figure and shapely legs made her look much older. She was like a picture Sandy had once seen of an angel. Compared with Amanda, Sandy felt like one of the ugly sisters in the story of Cinderella.

Standing near Amanda was Helen; she was as good looking as her golden-haired friend, but with dark hair and large, brown eyes. Sandy had often tried to make friends with Helen: all she had got for her trouble was a scowl and an unkind word.

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Amanda and Helen had gathered a group of children around them. From where Sandy was standing it looked as though Amanda was sharing some secret; one that had captured the interest of those around her. At that moment, one of them looked up and saw Sandy. There was a shout and they all fixed their eyes upon her.

Come on, Sandy! shouted Amanda. Why are you standing there like a scarecrow? The other children howled with laughter.

You mustn’t say that, said someone, the scarecrow would feel bad if you said he looked like Sandy! Another howl of laughter followed.

Sandy still could not move. There seemed no escape. If she turned and ran the crowd would chase her round the school grounds. The result would be worse than if she faced them now: They would trap her in a corner somewhere and she would be powerless. She would have to listen to their mockery, and endure their cruel bullying.

Once, the gang had thrown Sandy to the ground and rubbed sand in her hair. "Now you are Sandy!" they taunted. No! It was better not to be caught in the school grounds where she was fenced in with no way of escape. Better to take a chance outside the gate; but there they were, waiting for her. She would have to fight her way through. Maybe if she took them by surprise, she’d be able to get away before they knew what was happening.

Slowly, Sandy moved forward, her whole body tense. Anger boiled up inside her. Her school bag was heavy but she did not feel its weight. Her right hand held the straps so tightly that the knuckles turned white. Her left hand bunched into a fist and her speckled brown eyes turned suddenly dark.

Many children on their way home had begun to notice something happening near the gate. A crowd began to gather, curious to know the meaning of the shouting and laughing. When they saw Sandy advancing with a grim expression on her face, they knew they would not be disappointed. There was going to be a fight, for sure.

Amanda watched Sandy coming and dug Helen in the ribs. She whispered, Get to the other side … and do what I told you.

She turned and faced Sandy, making her voice sound kind and gentle, Sandy, I believe you get sick every morning.

Sandy stopped her steady march. For a moment she was taken in by the soft tones of Amanda’s voice. She had not expected such a soft, gentle question. Her eyebrows lifted, Why, no! I have felt sick once or twice, but not every morning.

Amanda laughed, and again her voice was filled with mockery, "If I were you I would be sick every morning. Imagine going to wash my face and seeing a face like yours staring back at me from the mirror." Giggles and screams of laughter greeted Amanda’s words. Sandy had fallen for the trick. Now she really did feel ill. How in the world was she going to get away now?

Suddenly Sandy ran at the group barring her way, hoping to take them by surprise and push her way through. She moved quickly, but not quickly enough. Helen had quietly moved to a place where Sandy could not see her. As Sandy rushed forward in a desperate bid to get away, Helen stuck her foot out. The unfortunate girl went sprawling forward, face first. Her nose struck the red earth; then the rest of her followed and she fell in a tangled heap. Her school bag skidded to one side. When at last she rose to her feet, the sight she presented was too much for the crowd. They laughed till their bellies ached.

Sandy could no longer control her tears; they ran down her cheeks, making dirty streaks down her face. Anger and hatred overwhelmed her. She ran to where her bag lay, took it by the straps and swung it round and round. When she let it go it slammed into Amanda’s chest, who lost her balance and crashed into two other children. All three landed in a cloud of dust. Instantly they were up again and advancing toward Sandy. She was in for it, for sure. Nothing could save her now.

Suddenly someone was standing between Sandy and her angry foes. She could not see who it was because he was facing the other way. All she could see were his grey pair of trousers, blue blazer and brown hair. His arms were stretched out as he shielded her from Amanda and her two companions. All three were bent on getting at Sandy for the damage she had done to their clothing. The crowd grew suddenly quiet.

Now stop this immediately! said Sandy’s new friend. His voice sounded strong, though he could not have been more than twelve or thirteen. It rang out clearly, What do you think you are doing? The boy was a stranger. Sandy did not recognize his voice at all. She moved to get a glimpse of his face. He had a strong, honest appearance, but he was still a stranger to her.

And who are you? squealed Amanda, angry at having the tables suddenly turned on her. She was no longer controlling the situation, and she was not sure anymore whether she had the sympathy of the crowd with her, This is none of your business. It’s something private that’s got nothing to do with you!

The stranger did not budge. Then why get your friend to trip her up? Why don’t you sort out your problems alone, instead of making the poor girl look silly in front of everyone? All three of you were ready to beat her up. You should be ashamed of yourselves. He stared at Amanda till she could not meet his gaze. She turned away.

As the crowd began to break up the bold stranger picked up Sandy’s case and placed it in her hand. Then, taking her gently by the shoulder, he led her away. As he stopped near the fence to pick up his school-case, where he had left it, there was a sudden shout from one of the boys in the crowd, Halleluiah! No wonder he’s such a softy. He’s a Jesus Freak!

All eyes followed the direction in which the boy’s skinny finger was pointing. A large red white and blue sticker was glued to the boy’s case. Big enough for everyone to read were the words, JESUS CARES!

Chapter Two

THE CHASE

Sandy nuzzled her face close to the cheek of her horse and led him gently over the cattle gratings spanning the space between the gateposts. Long poles covered a shallow ditch across the gateway for the purpose of preventing the cattle from wandering into the road and neighbouring farms. Still, she swung the gate on its squeaky hinges and secured it to the post with a piece of wire. You could not be too careful with cattle.

Now, horses were a different story altogether. She swung herself into the saddle and patted Patches on the neck. He responded with a vigorous nodding of the head, and a short, high-pitched neigh. She had heard grown-ups call animals dumb creatures. Cattle were dumb creatures, but not horses. You could talk to a horse.

She and Patches were real friends. They understood one another. Perhaps it was because Patches was also considered odd, in comparison to other horses in the area. Sandy had never seen any other quite like him. The other horses were either black, or brown, or white, or gray, or mottled. Patches was what her father called piebald; great big patches of brown and white all over him.

She nudged him to the side of the road and trotted towards Tant Freda’s farm. Dumbe Mountain, the mountain of thunder, loomed like a giant over the little town of Paulpietersburg behind her. Ahead were the rolling hills and the distant German settlement of Luneburg, where most of the German families living in the area sent their children to school.

For the first time in almost a week, since that terrible scene by the school gate, Sandy felt happy. The living movement of Patches under her, the smell of horse and field and flowers all blended to chase away unpleasant memories. They were like a forgotten dream.

But Shane she could not forget. She was certain that if he had not come to her rescue when he had, things would have turned out a lot worse. It still amazed her that he had the courage to stand up to Amanda in front of that crowd. None of them had any sympathy for a plain girl with her nose scraped and bleeding and red dust covering her from head to toe. But Shane had cared, though she had not yet been able to understand why. He was tall for his age, and his eyes had some quality that had made her feel she could trust him. When he had smiled at her she had felt his kindness and sympathy. It had been a new experience for her.

Sandy had not seen Shane again since that afternoon when he had left her at the farm gate, except from a distance. There were separate playgrounds for boys and girls, so she had not had an opportunity to speak to him at school. She had not met him after school because she had fled for home as soon as the final bell had rung. She had not dared to risk another meeting with Amanda and Helen.

The gate to Tant Freda’s farm appeared as they came over the hill and she nudged Patches into a gallop. At one end of the farm there was a river running through a deep, rocky gorge. In places there were trees growing from the sides and down below, the water was dark and smooth as glass. Sandy loved this place. She often came here to think, and to enjoy the beauty of nature. She nudged Patches down a gentle slope to the water’s edge. There were paths running up and down the edges that were dangerous for anyone who did not know them well. Thick bush could make someone think there was nothing beyond but solid ground.

She dismounted and sat on the rocky surface at the water’s edge. A pool had formed in a hollow. She absentmindedly bent over it to see whether a crab was perhaps hiding in a crevice. Suddenly her face stared back at her from the mirror-like stillness of the pool. You are the plainest girl in the whole world. was the thought that leaped into her mind before she knew it was even there. A shadow seemed to steal over her heart. There seemed no place for plain people, especially if you were a girl.

What was it that Shane had said? Jesus cares for all people, no matter what they look like on the outside. Was that really true? But what else had he said? Something important. Yes. There are many kinds of unattractive things, but some are worse than others. Whatever could he have meant by that? She could not imagine anything worse than being as unattractive as she was.

A familiar sound caused her to cock her head and listen. The sound of galloping hooves was some distance away but she knew the sound too well to be mistaken about it. It was getting nearer. The rider, whoever it was, was coming this way. Completely unaware of the tragic things that were about to take place and how they were going to affect her life, Sandy climbed onto a nearby boulder to get a better view of the rider.

As the horse and rider drew nearer she saw that it was a brown horse; it was a real beauty. Then she recognized the young girl who lay flat against the horse’s neck as though she were trying to win an important race. It was Helen. Her dark hair streamed out over her back and blended with the shiny brown of the horse. Even at speed it was clear that Helen knew how to ride. Then, as they got closer and she realized where they were heading, Sandy stiffened in alarm.

From where Helen was it would be impossible for her to see that, beyond the bushy crest of the hill, was not more ground, but a craggy cliff that plunged to the dark waters below.

Stop!! Sandy screamed, waving her arms frantically. Helen glanced briefly in her direction but did not check her pace. If anything she spurred her mount and raced past the boulder where Sandy was standing, in a mad rush toward almost certain death. All thought of danger fled from Sandy’s mind. All she could see in her imagination was a girl’s broken body floating in the dark waters of the river.

Patches had been grazing at the foot of the boulder. He was only slightly startled as Sandy sprang from the top of the boulder into the saddle. Then he was responding to her familiar, though urgent touch. He galloped after the other horse and rider as though he understood the peril that was awaiting them. The only thing that gave Sandy a slight advantage over Helen was her knowledge of what would happen if she did not succeed in catching up. A terrible fear gripped her heart and she dug her heels into Patches till he slowly drew nearer to the other horse. Just then, Helen turned her head and saw Sandy.

Sandy screamed at her, Stop! You’re heading for a cliff! The wind and the thudding hooves snatched the words away. Helen seemed to get the idea that Sandy was trying to race her, so she spurred her horse and tried to draw away from her pursuers. Sandy cried into the wind, Dear God, please let us catch her in time.

By now they were almost at the cliff’s edge. Mercifully, the path they were following turned and ran along the edge and Helen’s horse naturally followed its course. It was then that Helen glanced to her right and saw the gaping chasm that threatened to swallow her up. But it was too late. A rock lay in the pathway and her horse shied to avoid it. By this time Sandy had managed to draw up alongside and grabbed desperately as Helen was thrown out of the saddle. Her fingers closed over a portion of Helen’s blouse, but the flimsy cloth came away in her hand and the girl disappeared over the edge of the cliff.

Helen’s horse veered off and Sandy desperately reined Patches in, dismounted, and threw herself to the ground and peered over the edge. She was breathing so heavily, and fear of what she would find had such a strong hold upon her, that at first she saw nothing. Then her vision cleared and she saw a leg and a shoe sticking out of the bush halfway to the bottom. It had been a miracle that Helen had not fallen to the side where the cliff fell straight down to the bottom. Sandy guessed that by grabbing her blouse, the force of the fall had been broken. Helen had landed where there was a slope, instead of a sheer drop.

Helen had crashed through a bush and now lay half hidden under a tree that had no doubt stopped her from falling to her death.

Suddenly another horse beat its way along the path toward them. Sandy turned in time to see Amanda dismount and rush toward her with hysterical screams. I saw you. I saw you. she yelled, almost mad with hatred. You killed her. You killed her, I saw you push her! I saw you! Then she was on top of Sandy, pulling her hair and scratching at her face. You killed my friend, she cried, sobbing uncontrollably as the two of them teetered on the edge of the cliff.

Chapter Three

THE RESCUE

Dear God, please help me!

The words were squeezed out of Sandy by the sudden fear that gripped her. Two things were clear as she struggled under Amanda, who was clawing and biting like a wildcat. First, if Helen were still alive, there was a real danger that she could fall again and dash all hopes of saving her. Second, all three of them could be killed if she could not free herself from the hate-crazed girl.

For the second time that afternoon Sandy prayed. It was no more than Dear God, please help me! that people pray when they are in trouble. But she was desperate enough to really mean it. She knew little about prayer, and even less about God Himself, or Jesus, the Son of God. Yet in that terrible moment of distress she had somehow prayed a real prayer. The cry had hardly left her lips when Amanda suddenly went limp, rolled off Sandy and lay sobbing on the grassy verge.

They both lay without moving for several moments. Then Sandy rose unsteadily to her feet, gazing down at Amanda’s trembling form. Suddenly she knelt beside her and touched her gently on the shoulder, Amanda…Amanda…please… please try and calm yourself. Helen needs our help.

Amazingly, no angry shrieks came. There were no accusations. Only a faint moaning reached Sandy’s ears, a kind of numb grieving. It struck Sandy with something of a shock that she was seeing a side to Amanda that she had not realized even existed. Was it possible that spiteful, cruel Amanda was capable of something as pure and unselfish as…love? In a strange way she looked more beautiful now than Sandy had ever seen her. Her tears were not for herself, but for another.

At last, with a lot of gentle pleading from Sandy, Amanda began to understand that there was a chance her friend was still alive. She had evidently not realized that Helen had not fallen over the sheer face of the cliff, but at a point where it first sloped, before dropping more steeply. Sandy explained that the only thing that stopped Helen from falling the rest of the way was a rather flimsy looking tree. If it had not been for that tree, there would have been nothing to prevent Helen from falling to her death.

What are we going to do? Amanda enquired shakily.

One of us will have to go down to keep her from falling any further, while the other rides for help.

Amanda gasped. But how are we to get down there? It is dreadfully steep.

I know, but we could take the stirrup straps from two of the horses, tie them together, and fix one end to a tree. That way it would be fairly simple to get down without much danger. The only thing is, which one of us is going down?

I’ll go, said Amanda quickly. Sandy guessed that the older girl did not trust her with Helen. She preferred to go down herself, rather than leave Sandy with Helen for any length of time. Sandy did not argue. The sun was losing some of its strength and darkness would be upon them before they knew it. She had to get back with help before night engulfed them completely and made rescue work difficult. She helped Amanda tie the straps together, secure the homemade rope to a tree, and watched her till she reached the place where Helen lay. Then she mounted Patches and raced across the fields toward Tant Freda’s house.

***

Tant Freda spoke urgently into the telephone, Yes, yes, the child is now here. Her voice was slightly impatient, as though she were trying to explain something very simple to someone of slow understanding Yes, you heard correctly. Helen Reede is lying half way down the cliff. She is most likely seriously injured. Amanda Hastings is down there with her trying to keep her from falling further."

A few moments of silence followed. Then she let out another sigh.

Yes, yes, that is what I have been trying to say to you. You will have to get a rescue team up here right away, and a doctor as well… No, my husband is away, or else he would have been there already. Now please, do not delay any longer. She replaced the receiver and sighed again. You would think they would understand the first time. But no, one has to repeat the same thing over and over again.

Sandy had been standing anxiously watching as Tant Freda was phoning for help, thinking of Amanda clinging to Helen in the gathering darkness. She had been tense and dry-eyed till she knew help was on the way; then she burst into tears.

Now, now, child, you have been very brave till now. Try and be brave a little longer. You will need to show us where to find the girls. She gathered Sandy into her arms and held her till the sobbing gradually subsided. She felt a warm affection for this strangely unattractive young girl. Perhaps it was because she sensed the child was nursing some secret hurt. But it was more than that. There was a certain something in Sandy’s nature that drew the older woman to her.

I…I…I’m sorry…Tant Freda, I’m frightened.

And what are you frightened of?

I … I’m afraid for Helen. When I was looking over the edge, She…she … lay so still.

"Now, now Sandy. You must not allow your imagination to run away with you. You must not think like that till we know for sure. Time enough to worry when we have got her to safety and the doctor has examined her. The police said they would get a rescue team together and a doctor. They should be here within half an hour. Then you can take them to where the girls are. In the meantime I will phone