Category: Young Adult/Teen Publisher: RAE Publishing
ISBN-10: 0975094815
Type: Fiction
Pages: 129
Copyright: Jan 1 2003
“Six days a week I would leave home in the dark and walk the narrow valley path to the pit with my Da. The conversation we always had turned to one subject……travel. The destination was not important, as long as it was far from the blackened valley.”
Billy Kidder led a normal Australian life in his first eighteen years. Then he met his boyhood pen pal from Wales, this triggered off a roller-coaster ride through time.
Travel with Billy and join him on his quest to link the present with the past. You'll remember this book with a tear and a smile long after you've read the last page.
Contact: Mr. R. Edgar. Ph/Fax: 02 47 573284. Mob: 0427 272514.
E-mail: bedgar.pnc.com.au
S.O.S. FROM RHODON VALLEY
By Bob Edgar
Words: 24,260
Target Reader: 10yrs old and up.
Synopsis
Beginning: Billy Kidder was ten years old when he began a
pen pal relationship with Ryan Kelly from Wales. They
grew close via mail and telephone calls, when they
were eighteen and had completed school, they met on the Gold
Coast, Australia.
Their idea of a few months of care- free fun in the sun came to an sudden
halt when Billy was confronted with Ryan’s long
time ‘spirit boy’ guide, Aled.
Middle: Billy is transported back 100 years to Wales where
he endeavours to help Aled free himself from an eternity of in-between worlds.
Billy encounters friend and foe as he travels the roads
and valleys of Wales trying to untangle a web of mystery.
END: Billy is at first mesmerised by the beauty of the Welsh
valleys, and captivated with the Welsh characters he meets.
However he has a quest, and standing in his way are evil men
and dangerous situations.
Time is not on Billy’s side as he pursues justice for Aled.
The climatic end to Billy’s adventure leaves the ‘door of time’
open, for anybody to enter, and hopefully...return!
Excerpt
I pulled my coat collar up to cover my neck and stuck my hands in my trouser pockets, being mindful to curl my fingers into fists. Taking a deep breath of crisp, clean air I looked above at the black and silver star-show the night sky was providing. The sky seemed to descend right to the ground and the only sound to be heard was our footsteps on the cobblestones.
Right on cue, as if to compliment my peaceful mood, I heard the strains of music. I knew the instrument was the harmonica but I had never heard it played like this. The tune was hauntingly beautiful as it floated through the still air, then danced inside my head. It was a sad tune and yet promised happiness before it's end. I was about to speak when a voice chimed in to marry with the music from the reeds. The song was being sung in Welsh and the singer may have been an angel. In fact, as the captivating sounds became louder, we happened on two boys at the side of the lane. They were about twelve years old and smartly dressed with white collar and coat. The boy playing the harmonica was sitting on a box, the instrument all but concealed. His eyes were closed and his body swayed slightly as the sweet sounds escaped from his hands. The boy with the voice of an angel had one foot on the box, his arm leaning on that leg. He glanced at us as we approached, then returned to his own world, his voice so pure and emotion packed that I felt a shiver run through my body. I wanted to stop and absorb the music, but Richard kept walking.
“Richard,” I said, “Do you know that song?”
Richard’s sad brown eyes looked into mine as he replied,
“I know the story only too well. The words tell of how a father goes to the pit to work his midnight shift. Halfway through the midnight hour a siren sounds over the valley. It’s the siren that mothers and wives fear, and sets children crying. The father in this song doesn’t come home for breakfast that day. He looked back at the boys and whispered, “For these two boys, the one sitting on the box lost his uncle. The boy standing, sings of his father.
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