The Cost of a Sparrow
By Eric Watson
()
About this ebook
Eric Watson
Eric Watson is an eighty-seven-year-old retired engineering-design draftsman and a born-again Christian. He was born in the English midlands but is now living in rural Australia. Having had only female children and a majority of female grandchildren, he is naturally drawn to girls and writing for them. He is planning another story of the Howard family.
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The Cost of a Sparrow - Eric Watson
Copyright © 2015 by Eric Watson.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.
Scripture quotations marked KJV are from the Holy Bible, King James Version (Authorized Version). First published in 1611. Quoted from the KJV Classic Reference Bible, Copyright © 1983 by The Zondervan Corporation.
Rev. date: 08/26/2015
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CONTENTS
Chapter 1: Because of Boots
Chapter 2: The Stakeout
Chapter 3: Discovery
Chapter 4: Trapped
Chapter 5: The Mysterious Stranger
Chapter 6: Enter the Police
Chapter 7: Shirley Has A Brainwave
Chapter 8: Foiled Again
Chapter 9: This Time, You Die
Chapter 10: Desperate Hours
Chapter 11: Here Comes The Cavalry
Chapter 12: Loose Ends
Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing?
And one of these shall not fall to the ground
without your Father. Matt. 10:29. KJV.
1_Page_01_Image_0001.jpgIllustrations by Jill Watson.
1_Page_02_Image_0001.jpgCHAPTER 1
37018.pngBecause of Boots
I can hardly believe that it was only last Sunday that all this began; it seems ages and yet it really was only five days ago. When we got back from church at one o`clock, there was no sign of Boots. We called to him and when he didn`t come we rattled a spoon on his enamel dinner plate, but even this had no effect. He usually meets us in the drive when he hears the car drive up and if he doesn`t, then the spoon on the plate trick flushes him out from wherever he is and from whatever he has been doing. He would never miss the opportunity of a meal.
Boots is mostly Australian terrier and he gets his name from two perfectly marked front feet, which are snowy white, instead of his basic black and brown. He’s the most adorable, but mischievous dog that ever there was. He’s not a puppy and I don’t think he ever was. Dad says he`s about two years old, but we can`t be certain because he came from the R.S.P.C.A pound at Ballarat. Mum thinks his original owners dumped him because he was smarter than they were and I can believe that; he really is very bright. Shirley thinks that like the Gaddarene swine in the Bible, he`s possessed by a destructive spirit and if you could have seen what he did to the slippers given to Dad on his birthday, you might believe it too.
My name is Elaine and I`m just eleven years old. In fact, that`s how our story began; with my eleventh birthday and the gift that Dad and Mum gave me, which was Boots. I’m certain that if it hadn`t been for him, then none of this would have happened. Well, to be honest, it would have happened all right, but to somebody else, not us. I keep trying to convince Dad that if it hadn`t been for Boots, the whole course of history could have been changed. He laughs and says that we exaggerate our adventures and that they grow in the telling like fishermen`s tales of the fish they catch. Dad only comes in to the adventures at the very end, when things have to be cleared up, so he doesn`t know how we suffer while it`s taking place. Not that we really suffer, it`s very exciting at the time. Geraldine says it`s all `kids stuff’, when she`s trying to act grown-up, but she gets just as excited as the rest of us when we`re in the thick of it.
It might help you to understand how we see things, if first, I tell you something about ourselves, before I tell you what took place. It really makes a lot of difference. To start with, we`re P.K`s, that’s preacher`s kids. Dad is Pastor of the church at Olney, in the central highlands of Victoria, near Ballarat and `we’, are his family. I often wonder how the five children of one male and one female can be so different; but we are and I also think at times, that I am the only completely sane member of the family, especially when we are involved in an adventure like this was.
We are all `born-again’ Christians and we know that everything that happens to us is part of God`s plan and purpose for our lives, but we also know that He has given us wisdom, commonsense and free will to act for ourselves. This is where our troubles often begin.
I love my sister Geraldine very much, but sometimes she can be a big pain in the neck. She’s two years older than I am and has all the advantages of a year at High School and she sure likes to give us all the benefit of her great experience. You’ll see what I mean no doubt, as the story unfolds. Shirley, on the other hand, is two years younger than I am and just at that difficult age where she thinks she knows everything. To make matters worse, she thinks that the things she knows nothing about just don’t exist, which makes for frustration quite often, believe me! My youngest sister, Rachel, is a sweetie, but she`s only seven years old. She’s so trusting and so optimistic about life and everything in it. I know that I shouldn`t have favourites, so I don’t, but if I did, my favourite sister would be Rachel. That only leaves Timothy, who`s five, but since he`s a boy and since he`s sick anyway, he hardly comes into the story at all. So, there we all were, wondering what had become of Boots!
Maybe he’s gone back to his former owners,
said Dad and I thought I detected a satisfied smirk.
Oh no,
said Mum, I can`t bear to think about it. Life will never be the same again for me.
I didn’t know that my mother had any affection for Boots at all and I said so.
There you are, Rose,
smiled Dad, I told you that sarcasm is wasted on children. They naturally believe every word that their parents utter.
Mum smiled now.
Surely, no-one believes that I like that monster. Why, he`s chewed up, just about everything I hold dear in the world. Only this morning he `killed’ my oven glove and buried it in the herb garden.
Not the herb garden,
sighed Dad. I`d just transplanted over fifty young shoots from the propagator.
That’s Boots, I thought, how to win friends and influence people. Never the less, I was worried, because this sort of behaviour was so out of character. It’s true, I had only had Boots for two weeks, but in those fourteen days, he`d never once missed a meal, nor missed welcoming me home from school or church. He seemed to have a built-in clock that governed his coming and his going. Never the one to hang about the house, his business took