Читать книгу The Star Riders and the Mystery of the Fairy Circles - Peter Kerry - Страница 4

It was a hot summer day just before the school holidays in 1978. As they often did, the children played on the wide hill near their houses as soon as they finished their homework.

Peter, with his brown hair and deep blue eyes, was of normal height for his age, not strong, not slight. Always ready for a prank, he was usually nice to everyone. Only once had his mother spanked him when he and John wanted to make a small fire in a hollow on a slope and didn't notice that a small tree was growing above it. Well, after the fire there wasn't much left of the tree. They managed to get the fire under control and put it out before anything worse could happen.

John, red-haired with freckles and emerald green eyes, was half a head shorter than Peter. "Johann!" His mother called him when she was angry with him, and gave him loudly a piece of her mind. The two, who had known each other since kindergarten, soon stopped making fires. That was two years ago now.

Tom, actually Thomas, but like John he didn't want to be called by his full name either, had just moved to Offenbach am Main with his parents a year ago. Until then, his family had lived in Botswana for six years, where his father had worked as an engineer for a construction company. With his blond hair and light blue eyes, Tom wasn't much taller than Peter, but he was fit and somehow always tanned. The others believed that it had taken root in his skin from his time in Africa. The three boys should celebrate their tenth birthday this summer.

When Tom started in the same class as Peter and John, they hit it off and he became the third in their friendship. On the one hand, they shared their fable for the music of the Beatles, one more reason why John didn't want to be called Johann, but like one of his great role models. On the other hand, they never tired of playing knights. The other children on the hill usually had enough of it after an hour at most, but the three of them would have missed dinner if their mothers hadn't kept shouting loudly at them to remind them.

Today was different.

Peter had taken over the defense of the castle. Actually, that was just a tiny knoll on the hill where they had posted a homemade flag that featured a gold star on a deep blue background. John and Tom led the attack on the castle to capture the star flag. Peter took over the defense.

"Come out, Sir Peter," called Tom, "you don't stand a chance against our superior troops anyway."

"Never will I surrender to you cowardly wretches," answered Peter.

"So it should be your last day on earth," John called and everyone brandished their self-made wooden swords and ran towards each other, yelling. As always, there was a great tumult as they sprang about, uttering wild curses and clashing wooden swords. Apart from a few bruises, nothing worse had ever happened.

John stopped and called out, "Peter, Tom, look at the clouds gathering."

"It's going to be very dark," said Tom.

"Scary," Peter added, "seems quite a storm is coming."

As soon as he said it, it poured cats and dogs, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled violently. There was no longer any sun to be seen and the strong wind had completely drenched them with rain in seconds.

"We'd better get a roof over our heads as soon as possible," exclaimed Peter.

"Come over to me quickly, I live closest," Tom replied.

They were already running as fast as they could in this storm to Tom's childhood home just below the big hill.

Tom's mother was already waiting at the door. "Oh, how do you look," she blurted out, "just take off your wet clothes, I'll get you towels."

The three of them dropped all their clothes while they were still in the hall, which now was swimming with water. Tom's mother came with the towels and said, still excited, "Come, come, come into the living room and dry off. I'll make you a hot chocolate and call your parents so they know you've arrived here safely."

It was so dark outside that the lights had to be turned on in the house. What none of them knew, the three boys had been observed for hours. Two dark figures dressed in

black waxed coats reaching to the ground and big-brimmed black waxed hats, had sat and waited all day in the thicket at the top of the hill. Again and again they had whispered to each other in somber voices and watched the children playing. But they became particularly attentive when Peter, Tom and John came up the hill with their flag.

Now the two of them, unimpressed by the rain and storm, were still in their hiding place and watched the three boys through the living room window as they sat there on the sofa with their hot chocolate wrapped in towels and being cared for by Tom's mother.

Peter's and John's parents had allowed them to stay with Tom. Both of them lived only a few houses away, but the storm had become so bad that not even the cats dared to go outside.

The thunderstorm lasted all night. After that, everything would change for the children.