Kipp The Kid

  Kipp The Kid

  Copyright 2014 Paul G Day

  Published by Paul G Day at Smashwords

  Smashwords Edition License Notes

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Prologue: The Old Abandoned Mines

  Chapter One: Kipp & Nip

  Chapter Two A Girl Called Jane

  Chapter Three The Kipper Way

  Chapter Four: Kipp’s Contract

  Interlogue: The Adventure Begins

  Chapter Five: The Out-Of-Towners

  Chapter Six: The Sounds of Night

  Chapter Seven: Thrice The Trouble

  Chapter Eight: A Fool’s Treasure

  Chapter Nine: A Dark & Dangerous Place

  Chapter Ten: Of Dreams & Angels

  Epilogue: The First Adventure

  Jane’s Song

  Glossary of Australian Terms

  About Paul G Day

  Other books by Paul G Day

  Connect with Paul G Day

  Praise for

  Kipp the kid

  By

  Paul G Day

  “Kipp The Kid by Paul G Day is a suspenseful young adult novella featuring Kipp, a boy living near the Moonta Mines in South Australia. Together with his puppy love Jane Prescott and his dog Nip, they undertake a series of adventures as play-acting gives way to the real and the supernatural. In his own private world he calls Kipp’s Chamber, Kipp and Jane and Nip encounter a trio of dastardly brothers with bad intentions. Trent, Arnold and Jake Jansen are up to no good, and a series of fatal encounters lead to supernatural interventions that make the youngsters realize how their lives have truly been blessed.

  The author pays tribute to classic teen adventure narratives with young romance challenged by personal crises which serves to bring the lovers ever closer together. The threat of the evil brothers is enhanced by the alcoholism of Jane’s father, depriving her of the shelter and protection of her home. Yet the departed family members are given a chance at redemption, reaching beyond the grave in helping Jane and Kipp. Even when a tragedy nearly pulls Jane and Kipp apart, Jane survives a near-death experience and gives both Kipp and the audience hope for a sequel to come.” (The Kindle Book Review)

  “Author Paul Day, in his story "Kipp The Kid" engages the readers' emotions and imagination and transports them to a world where the real and surreal intermingle. Paul Day's captivating story of young love. The geographical setting, which is famous for its Cornish heritage, lends drama and adventure to the story as do the well-developed and rich characters of Kipp, Jane and others. Additionally, the seamlessly interwoven themes of survival, family relationships, commitment and devotion -- that are as contemporary as they are timeless -- add yet another dimension to this enchanting tale.” (S Mazor)

  Acknowledgements

  I would like to thank my family, especially my wife Jennifer for her love and commitment, as well as my wonderful editor and friend, Janice Spina for her endless encouragement and support in this endeavor.

  ABOUT THE COVER

  Featured on the cover of this book are Charles Wundersitz (Kipp) and Ella Simpson (Jane). Both young actors also feature in the official book trailer on my YouTube Channel (see last page of book)

  Prologue

  The Old Abandoned Mines

  One beautiful spring day, an old man sat gently rocking on his old rickety chair, while two children played at his feet. He was humming a tune to himself, a song he once heard someone very beautiful sing. She was long gone now, but the memory of her was still alive in his distant heart.

  The girl at his feet stopped what she was doing and looked up into the aging eyes of the elderly man. Though his eyes were pale with the passing years and he was squinting in the sunlight, his wrinkles forming deep lines around the sockets, she thought she saw a little tear form in the corner of one eye.

  “Does it make you sad Papa…that song?”

  At first he seemed not to have heard her. For a little while she thought he wouldn’t answer. By this time the boy was also looking up.

  The old man stopped rocking for a moment and cast his eyes down upon the two children. He saw the brightness in their eyes. He saw the glow of their young faces. He wanted to tell them. Oh, how he wanted to tell them. But so difficult to start. How do you tell ones still so young, a story so troubling, so beautiful and yet so utterly real, he thought to himself.

  The two children waited patiently for an answer. The old man started rocking again. “It’s a song a girl once sang to me when I was still not much older than you two. She was the most wondrous, beautiful, intelligent girl I ever met.”

  “Who was she?”

  She was my neighbor. Such a delightful lass. So honest and lovely and truer a girl has never lived. The young girl sitting beneath him on the porch looked suddenly disappointed and shot the old man a crooked glance. He saw it just in time.

  “She reminds me a little of you my dear.”

  The girl smiled again and blushed pink at the cheeks. The boy saw it and asked eagerly, “Did you love her?”

  “Oh indeed. Indeed I did,” came the quick reply.

  The old man was not yet convinced these two children really wanted to hear his story. He decided he would wait until they could stand it no more.

  “This girl, did she have a name?” asked the lad.

  “She did, she did indeed.”

  “Well, what was it?” asked the girl as she moved closer to his feet.

  It was then he knew he had their attention. So he invited them both to sit on the small stools either side of him and he poured a glass of lemonade for each of them. When he reached into his pockets, the two children beamed with anticipation. He pulled out two large lollipops, so bright with swirling patterns that they would water the mouth of even the least hungry child.

  “It’s a long story,” he started, “but one you do not want to miss.” He paused, allowing the words to build the anticipation further as the two children started sipping their drinks and licking the sugary sweetness of the candy.

  “Please Papa, please tell us.”

  “Ok then, but you have to pay attention. Or you might miss the best bits of this incredible and true adventure…”

  chapter 1: Kipp & Nip

  It’s not very unusual for a boy to have a friend, but when your only friend in the whole world is a little scruffy brown dog called Nip, well, let’s just say they were lucky to have each other. Kipp was not scruffy like his dog Nip, but he did have a mass of curly copper colored hair all over his head.

  During school, Kipp always sat staring out the window, watching the birds and listening to the sounds of machinery way off in the mines. Not the old mines he often played in, mind you, but the big, modern mines right on the edge of town.

  Kipp could hardly wait to get home each day. He always made sure he did his chores and rushed his homework, scoffed down something to eat, gulped down a large glass of milk and within an hour of being home he was off down to the old mines again.

  There was only really one reason he even liked it at school at all. A girl. Jane, with fiery red hair, just like his, only hers was all flowing and beautiful. It was soft too like the silk sheets his grandmother occasionally hung on the line to dry. He’d get in so much trouble after coming home from a day in the mines, because the silk was too irresisti
ble and he couldn’t help touch it, getting his grubby, copper-covered hand prints all over them.

  “Kipp!” his grandma would yell out and he would leg it past the laundry and down to the shed where he would hide until she gave up the chase or else forgot completely why she was after him in the first place.

  But it was the weekends and school holidays Kipp looked forward to the most. If he could have, he would have spent every single day, from dawn until dusk at the mines. If his gran and grumps would let him. Yes, that’s what he called his grandpa whenever his back was turned, grumps.

  Grumps was very old and hard of hearing. He spent most of the day on the front porch, rocking in his chair and mumbling to himself. Every now and then Kipp’s gran would ask him to fetch this or that for grumps. Kipp would roll his eyes and pull a face, but he knew better than to argue. Besides, the sooner he did what he was supposed to, the sooner he was allowed to take off. And take off he did too, sometimes overnight, occasionally for a day or two. But always on his own. Well, almost on his own. He always took Nip wherever he went.

  Chapter 2: a girl called jane

  Kipp knew the mines like his own back yard. He knew where all the really good shafts were. He knew where he could find water. He knew how to get to the top of the old engine house and he also knew where you could still find copper and other minerals and gems.

  It was the second day of the school holidays and Kipp was at the mines at last. He couldn’t go on the first day, because his grumps had dragged him along to the RSL to help set up for a function. Of course, by help, Kipp knew it would be left up to him to do all the work, while grumps sat half bent over, jabbering on to his old mates about the good old days. So he suffered through an entire day of moving tables and chairs, putting table cloths and napkins out, shoving a seemingly endless supply of party pies and pasties into the old ovens etc.

  But on Sunday, as soon as they returned from the most boring sermon at Mass ever, Kipp wasted no time in packing supplies for an overnighter. Before his gran could think up any more jobs for him to do, he snuck out his window to avoid her and jumped down into the hay on the old Ute, rolled out onto the ground and then ran as fast as he could, with Nip following hot on his heels. He didn’t even stop to wave to Jane, next door, who was only partially sticking her head out of her window as he sped on bye.

  “Can’t stop. Gotta run,” he said puffing as he whipped past her house, managing barely a glance up to her window.

  “Where are you off to so quickly?” she called out after him as if she didn’t already know the answer.

  One of these days, thought Kipp, she’s gonna follow me I know it. Even though he liked Jane, she was not a boy and she wouldn’t like the mines. So it was him and Nip all the way. That’s the way he liked it. No complications, no hold ups, no unwanted or uninvited stragglers. Certainly and this was a rule he made up his mind about a long time ago, no girls. They were forbidden. It says so in his own journal.

  Wherever I go, whenever I go,

  It’s always only me and Nip.

  No stragglers and nobody else,

  just me and Nip, beside my hip.

  Within half an hour Kipp was already at the Engine House. He peered inside and spooked a flock of pigeons who had kept guard of the place while he couldn’t be there. When they realized it was him, they quickly settled back down to their cooing and pooing.

  “Pigeons,” Kipp’s grumps had told him often enough, “not much good for anything, except for eating.” Kipp had never tried eating them, though if he was hungry enough he was sure he would give anything a go.

  The campsite was exactly as he had left it a few days before. Exactly, that is, except for some tin cans thrown about and all the logs moved. There were tracks leading up to the logs, like they had been dragged by something or someone.

  Someone, Kipp realized as he stared down at the big boot marks in the dust. Hardly anyone came down to the mines anymore. Even the tourists stopped coming ages ago. Occasionally, Kipp saw visitors, a few rat bags now and again, mostly from out of town, but they rarely invaded his camp site cause it was always so hard to get to and so well hidden.

  He could have camped anywhere in the mines and been safe, but Kipp preferred one of the shallower dug-outs because it offered shelter from wind and rain and there was always water there. Not very tasty water, but good enough to drink if you didn’t have anything else.

  There was an artificial crevice tucked neatly away in the corner of the dug-out. It was cool and mostly dry there and the fire bounced off the vertical walls of solid rock and made the whole space nice and cozy. It was a good spot, his spot. The fact that someone else had found it annoyed him. He felt protective of it, like he was an explorer who had discovered it first. He’d even named it Kipp’s Chasm and had scrawled the name into a rock, as if doing so made it his.

  Someone else had written something now too, but it was graffiti and Kipp couldn’t read it at all. He got a big sharp rock and scratched away at it until all he saw were scratches. Nip sat patiently panting by the stack of wood Kipp had collected on his way into the Chasm. He gave a quick bark and then cocked his head sideways. His little floppy ears dangled like old brown socks in need of mending. His big brown eyes watched everything Kipp was doing.

  As soon as he had scratched off all the graffiti, Kipp got the fire going and sat on a flat stone he had placed there a long time ago, back when he was barely old enough to lift it, back when grumps used to come down with him. Nip sat next to him as Kipp rubbed his hands together.

  “It’s gonna be a cold one tonight Nip. A bit nippy I’d reckon.” Then he chuckled to himself. Nip barked a reply as if agreeing with him and then he wandered over to the backpack and started sniffing. “Oh, right, you want something to eat huh? No surprises there I suppose.”

  Kipp opened up a can of spam and tipped it onto a tin plate and gave it to Nip who gulped it down without even tasting it. It was probably just as well, because Spam is one of those things people make, but nobody actually likes, yet everyone seems to have a spare can or two in their pantry.

  He watched Nip finish licking the plate and then dived into the bag and pulled out a packet of chips. He opened it and started munching away. Then he made up some cordial and drank a couple of cups full.

  Above him, the stars were already bright in the narrow section of sky between each wall of the chasm. Aside from naming the Chasm, Kipp had also taken to naming the constellations. He knew they already had names, but he wanted to name them himself, as if he were the only one who had ever seen them. Big Kipper, he called one of them he thought was shaped like a boy, Little Nipper he called another shaped like a dog and there was another one that sort of resembled a girl with a dress on. He absentmindedly named it Jane, seeing how she was the only girl he actually knew well enough to deserve having stars named after her.

  As he sat there thinking about Jane, but trying hard not to, there was a cracking noise coming from the other side of the dug-out. At first Kipp thought it was a Kangaroo, or wild dog. Nip started barking and took off to the opening of the chasm where he stood, yapping away like he had seen a fox or rabbit.

  Kipp followed him and peered into the dark. He had his torch with him, but he wanted to see if he could hear anything first.

  “Shush Nip.” He commanded and Nip stopped barking. Instead, he was growling under his breath, letting out a half-hearted “wrrrroof”, not quite qualifying as a bark, but close enough.

  Kipp was about to give up looking when a figure appeared out of the shadows and into the moonlight. Kipp had expected it to be an animal, or maybe an owl. But he had not expected it to be a girl and certainly not someone he knew.

  “Jane? What the heck?”

  Jane wandered sheepishly over to him, casually swinging her arms from side to side. Kipp was gob smacked. At first he didn’t know what to say, so, being a girl as she was, Jane did all the talking.

  “So this is your secret haunt?”

  “Well, it was a secr
et, but not any more, I guess,” he stammered, rolling his eyes.

  “You needn’t look so worried. I won’t tell.” Kipp breathed a sigh of relief, but he soon had reason to worry again. “That is, unless you don’t let me stay.”