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!
Read a Chapter
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 hopeless about 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 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 fog. Or lack of it!
The mist slowly dissipated from view as if by a 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 trusty 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 and when
it did I would have more than enough time to make the kill. As expected, 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 old 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
me 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 fear with composure and confident scrutiny. I had an uneasiness about who was in charge of the situation as Mr. Rabbit looked far more confident than I.
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