"Nigel Pluckrose Please Sit Down"

Includes these short stories:

• "A Playmate Lost"
• "Gypsies"
• "A Day of Secrets"
• "Meet Mademoiselle"
• "Why I Like Omelettes"
• "Smoking is Bad"
• "Cruft;s Ice Cream Party "
• "Evil Kerpluckrose"

$12.00 CAD

Hi Reader, welcome to my book.

Before we get to the stories, I would like to tell you who I was and where I lived as a young boy. But if I did, then where would the mystery be?

Maybe I could tell you about the pets that I grew up with. But then you wouldn’t be able to discover their secrets, would you?

Hmm…let’s see, what can I say that will help you? Hey, I know what to say now.

My name is Nigel Pluckrose and when I was between three and ten years old, I grew up in a very small village in the English countryside called Southwater. Our village was so small that they took away our train tracks because not enough people used that train.

Anyway, to find where I lived was not that hard. All you have to do is turn West at the old train-bridge and follow the narrow road out of the village. Go past the Village Common and the Cricket Field, keep going past the old stone Church with the low stone wall and the high Belfry. Pretty soon you will come to a very steep hill, halfway down the hill there is a curve, which has an even narrower lane leading from it, called Two-Mile Lane, off around another turn. Take that small lane.

Once you are around the corner, hedges close in the sides of the lane and the trees grow over the top to block out the sunlight. It’s almost like going into a big tunnel. Follow the lane, which will turn to dirt soon. You will pass through two farmyards, so watch where you walk or you may get something on your shoe. After you pass through the second farmyard you will see a gate with a sign on it that reads “Carpenter’s Kennel’s”. You have reached the end of the lane and that’s my house in front of you.

It’s a very big house that is all on one floor, has no basement and is over one hundred years old. It is shaped like a giant “L” with green tin walls and a red tin roof. Each room has its own fireplace because the house didn’t have a furnace and it has a white veranda that is eight feet wide, that runs along the entire length of the “L”. My little sister, Johanna (Joey), is four now and we ride our bikes along the veranda when it rains.

My older brother, Norman, has a bedroom beside mine. He is ten and says that I bother him. Joey and I try to stay out of his way, as he is mean to us sometimes.

Mom works looking after the Kennel’s where we keep our sixty-five dogs, plus the border dogs that stay with us. Then she has to look after our forty-five cats. It’s a lot of work for her, so we usually only see her at supper. Dad works in London. It’s a long way to go, so he gets home late and on the weekends he has to help in the Kennels and takes our dogs to Dog Show’s. When he has time he shows me how to do stuff, which usually ends up getting me in trouble. Like when he taught me to drive the car, that was not such a good idea.

Granny is my Dad’s mother and she looks after us almost all the time. She is from Wales and is very small and old, with her gray hair under her hair net. She always wore an apron and a smile. We had a pet graveyard under her bedroom window where she helped me bury my Hamster.
 

"A Playmate Lost"
When you buy the Nigel Pluckrose E-book this story is included in it.

$4.00 CAD

During this period of punishment we were encouraged to go for walks in the forest. As my father would say, "Why don't you go play in the forest."

The forest had been discovered already and I knew all the paths, rivers, fox and badger holes that there were. I also found where the hermit lived. There was nothing new to discover and I was really quite bored.

The boy coming to play was one of those kids that others tried to avoid. He really was a pain in the butt. He knew every thing and was always impeccably dressed. It wasn't that he was boring (even if he was), he was just a plain, pain in the butt.

I was not looking forward to this, but I was already in enough trouble after the barn, so I conceded to my mother's wishes. But I didn't have to enjoy it and he was going to do what I wanted.

It had rained all night and I was excited about the event that I had been planning for just such a day.
 

"Evil KerPluckrose"
When you buy the Nigel Pluckrose E-book this story is included in it.

$4.00 CAD

His father had taken us to see the Motorcross racing that Saturday. It was fantastic. Motor bikes of all different sizes racing around the course at the old military training grounds.

They raced around corners, up and down hill's, through shallow rivers, mud flying, launching into the air over jumps. Crashing into bushes, hay bales, the ground and each other. It was loud, dirty, gasoline smelling, fast, little boy and grown men fun.

One rider was dressed all in black and had his name across the shoulders of his leather suit. The sign on his trailer said he was a stunt rider and at 3pm would jump his motor bike up a ramp, over thirteen cars and land on a second ramp. We watched him fly through the air and when he landed the crowd went wild cheering.

He rode his bike back past the roaring crowd with the front wheel up in the air. He kept that "wheelie" up for the entire ride past.

That was when I decided that I was going to be a stunt rider.

Matthew's Dad told us all about being a stuntman on the way home. I was amazed to learn that a stuntman could do just about anything; crashing a car into a wall, riding a motorbike, fighting, jumping of buildings, walking on the wing of an airplane, setting themselves on fire, just about anything you could think of!

It sounded perfect to me, except the part about setting myself on fire. That was not so appealing. The more I thought about it on the way home, the more excited I got. This had to be what my Dad referred to as, "a defining moment in life.”

We were waiting for my parents to come and pick me up at Matthew's and so I broached the subject with him.

"What do you think?" I asked.

"Not my cup 'o' tea, but if that's what you want."

"Yeah, it is."

So it was that I convinced him to help me start to practice. First we had to build a ramp in just the right place.
 

"Gypsies"
When you buy the Nigel Pluckrose E-book this story is included in it.

$4.00 CAD

Most days I was hungry when I went to bed. Not because we lacked food but as punishment for some crime that I had committed. Usually, because I didn't know it was a punishable offence, I would end up telling on myself. But this had been a grand day.

I was laying in bed dreaming of adventures that could be accomplished the next day and my belly was so full of Grannies trifle that I could still taste it, or maybe I didn't brush my teeth.
When I woke up, I had Goosebumps and a feeling that I was being watched.

Laying in the dark, I pulled the covers over my ears so that only the top of my head and eyes were visible (you never know when your ear will be yanked off or where an earwig might crawl).
 

"Meet Mademoiselle"
When you buy the Nigel Pluckrose E-book this story is included in it.

$4.00 CAD

Looking at him in surprise and then at each other, we burst out laughing. "Sorry, he doesn't have any manners." I told Michael.

His laughing stopped as his face contorted in revulsion, while he started waving his hand in front of his face.

Laughing even harder I added. "Stinks too."

"Thanks for the warning." He said from behind the waving hand. "Anything else you need to warn me about."

I looked at Mademoiselle. She was sleeping on the floor, the sun keeping her warm. Should I tell him about her?

"Well," I started, "if that cat wakes up, you might want to sit still."

"Why?" He asked as he looked at the small, brown cat sleeping.

"She's just a little different, but as long as she stays asleep nothing will happen." I replied.

I had a clean sweater stuck on the top of my head as I heard him say. "The cat's waking up."
Pulling the sweater down with a yank, I half-whispered. "Let's go, quick."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because she woke up?"

"So?"

I really didn't feel like explaining about Mademoiselle. Then, looking at the expression on Michael’s face, I realized that he wasn't going anywhere without an explanation.

"Alright," I said with a sigh, "Come on. I'll introduce you to her, but you remember that this was your idea."
 

"A Day of Secrets"
When you buy the Nigel Pluckrose E-book this story is included in it.

$4.00 CAD

It was hard to plan anything because of the rain. It was one of those English drizzle days. That means it's just wet enough to stop you from going outside to play but dry enough to be constantly told to, "Go outside and play."

The food was going down, in an absentminded fashion, as I stared out the window, down the garden. Granny came and sat at the table.

"Granny, there's nothing to do."

"Well you could go for a walk." She responded. "There's always something to do. You just have to find it."

"Everyone's gone. I'd have to go by myself."

"God puts all kinds of things in the world for little boys to discover. Go find one, have some fun."

I decided that Granny was right. Just 'cause it was a drizzle day and there was nobody around, didn't mean I had to have a boring day. She was right. I was going to find out what God had for me today.

Finishing up my breakfast, I pulled on my rubber boots and informed Granny that I was off. The drizzle was very fine and I thought the best thing to do was to pay a visit on Chris.

Chris worked on the farm above us and would usually let me ride the tractor beside him. I could hear the tractor in the barn as I walked up the driveway. Chris was already busy.

Making my way to the barn I got side tracked by the big manure pond.
 

"Smoking is Bad"
When you buy the Nigel Pluckrose E-book this story is included in it.

$4.00 CAD

I knew that it had been a mistake to let her play with us, but my Dad had said that we had to let her join in.

Michael and I had spent most of the day building our new fort out of the old storm windows.

He lived on the farm above Carpenter's and occasionally our parents still let us play together.

The rest of the time we were usually in trouble and couldn't play together.

My Dad had been taking the storm windows off and had let us build a fort out of them. Norman was not happy, as usual, because he had been forced by Dad to carry the windows over under the Oak tree. Michael and I then leaned them against each other to make a glass A-frame fort.

We were busy arranging stones in a circle, in front of the old log that we used to climb on our horse, Magpie. Johanna was sitting on the log watching us. She was too small to help.

"What are you two up to now?" Dad had decided to check out our fort.

"We're making a fire pit." I answered without looking up.

Dad sat on the log and surveyed our glass shack. "You've done a good job here."

"Thanks." We both mumbled.

"I helped." Johanna chimed in.

My Dad seemed in a good mood and an idea was forming in my head. I remember him saying that it "never hurts to ask", so I did.

"Hey Dad, can we have a real fire?"

Little did I know that that question was to have serious repercussions.

He thought about it for a moment. "Well, lets think about it."

I knew that meant yes. But first we would have to listen to a lecture.

"Fire," he started, "is very dangerous, you know."

"We know." I answered, trying to sound knowledgeable.

"It has to be contained in an area so that it does not get out of control."

"That’s why we surrounded the pit with rocks." Again I showed that we had put thought in to this moment.

"And," he continued, "you have to keep an eye on it, so it doesn't get too big."

"Or it could set something else on fire." Now I was showing that I knew what I was talking about.

"And you must put it out when you are done."

"With a bucket of water." I knew he was going to say yes now.

"All right."
 

"Why I Like Omelettes"
When you buy the Nigel Pluckrose E-book this story is included in it.

$4.00 CAD

Dad had a blank look on his face as he watched her drive through the gate away from Carpenters.

He sighed quietly and I could sense the exasperation he felt.

I understood the situation. Full of anxiety, I was also curious about what was to take place. Dad had decided that I was old enough to learn that death was a part of life, that people ate meat and what that meant.

"Wait here." He said, without looking at me.

My parents had to work all the time to support us when we were young. They cut corners where they could and it still wasn't enough. Dad came up with the brilliant idea of raising our own Turkey’s.

Now where as this was a good idea, it was not such a good idea for a family that loved animals. We got the chicks young and hand-raised them. They ran around our property with some of our dogs and formed quite a formidable pack.

More than a few visitor’s where surprised when they got out of their cars and had their vision tested, as a pack of barking, gobbling, fur and feather’s came charging around the corner of the house to repel the intruders.
 

"Cruft's Ice Cream Party"
When you buy the Nigel Pluckrose E-book this story is included in it.

$4.00 CAD

The loud speakers in the giant building seemed to bellow as they announced; "Now calling to Ring # 3, Number 415, Number 719, Number…"

We were at Cruft's Dog Show in London. One of the most important Dog Shows in the world. This was the biggest event of the year for my Dad.

He bred Standard Schnauzer's and for the past ten years, his male, Champion Sundays Boy of Allbright, (we called him Soda), had been the best and was one of the last remaining Champions.

Nobody else's dogs could beat him. In order for a dog to become a Champion, it had to beat other Champions.
 

"The Trophy"

$6.00 CAD

In an instant, tears flooded down Ricky's face. He turned and ran into the house. Gene-Paul started the old, rusting, sky-blue truck, with the hand made camper on the back, and backed hurriedly down the driveway. Aunt Myrtle came out of the house and yelled after us, "You’d better run!"

This was not quite the start I had envisioned for this hunting trip. Gene and I laughed; I resolved to make it up to Ricky when we got back. That is, if I was still alive after my Aunt was finished with me.

My cousin Gene-Paul and I had been out all summer looking for a good spot to hunt Elk. He was two years younger than me and looked up to me as his cool, tough cousin from the City.

Now that fall was here, we knew exactly where to go and I knew exactly what I was looking for. Up in the foothills was a lake, home to a small herd of Elk. There was a bull with an incredible rack that was going to be mine. That's all I wanted. As a young boy, my father thought of me as a crybaby and said I wouldn’t amount to much. I remember being told: "There's only two ways to make a man; Dig ditches or join the Army."
 

"Dipsomania"

$6.00 CAD

"I don't know." I yelled back over my shoulder. It was very hard to sound annoyed at the inconvenience of having to go to the hospital when I was so jubilant inside. I had absolutely no intention of returning that night. Summoning every ounce of will in my body I forced myself to walk, not run, out of the plant to my truck.

The cool fresh air washed over my face as I opened the door to freedom. Climbing into my beast of a vehicle I prayed Emergency would be quiet that night. That way I could just slip in, they could induce me to vomit, pat me on the back and send me on my way. God it felt good to have the air rushing in the open window as I raced up there breaking all the town speed laws. What did I care? I had a built in excuse if a cop stopped me. A mental picture flashed through my head, "Sorry officer but I may have been poisoned at work and I have to get to the hospital right away." He would jump back in his car and race ahead of me clearing the way. I pushed my foot down on the gas. The faster I get there the faster I get my coffee, yeah.

I parked the truck in the parking lot and made my way inside, muttering to myself how it was wrong that sick people had to pay to park. It just attached a hypocritical feeling to that oath doctors took.