The Great Race to Sycamore Street. J. Samia Mair
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J. Samia Mair
The Great Race to Sycamore Street
Published by
KUBE PUBLISHING LTD.,
MCC, Ratby Lane, Markfield, Leicestershire, LE67 9SY, UK.
Tel +44 (01530) 249230, Fax +44 (01530) 249656
E-mail: [email protected]
Website: www.kubepublishing.com
Text © 2013 J. Samia Mair
Illustrations © 2013 Kube Publishing
Please note that US English has been used throughout this book.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner.
Author J. Samia Mair
Illustrator James Cottell
Book design Nasir Cadir
Editor Yosef Smyth
Printed by Imak Ofset, Turkey
A Cataloguing-in-Publication Data record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 978-1-84774-057-1
I dedicate this book to my daughters, Mei-Ying and Mei-Lin, who inspire my writing and bring much joy to my life.
Table of Contents
The peach tree on Sycamore Street
What can a peach tree teach you?
Good fences don’t always make good neighbors
Cicada Surprise
HUDE had seconds to decide. The other motorcycles were closing in fast. He could ride down a steep mountain pass leading to who knows-where. Or, he could follow the train tracks into a mysterious tunnel. Either way, he was taking a big chance.
Hude grabbed the throttle and pulled a wheelie. He headed straight into the dark hole. A strange tingling feeling flowed from the handlebars through his hands, arms and shoulders. He checked the speedometer. He had reached the seventy miles-per-hour mark. That wasn’t fast enough. He had to go faster if he wanted to escape.
Suddenly, an eerie golden glow raced towards him. It was a train! He had to get out of the tunnel and now.
Swish. The speeding train passed by him just as he exited. The wind almost knocked him down.
Too close, Hude thought to himself.
He was now riding on a narrow road, twisting down the side of a mountain. His bike was nearly horizontal through the curves. Showers of sparks flew up from the pavement.
“Rainbows!” Hude yelled when he saw puddles of oil in front of him.
He could not avoid them all, and his bike slid out of control. When he swerved to avoid a tree, he came dangerously close to falling off a cliff. Somehow he managed to get back on the road. But his troubles were not over.
A truck ahead of him blew a tire. Pieces of shredded tire littered the road. He weaved in and out, not daring to slow down.
Out of nowhere, the motorcycles chasing him appeared. He looked ahead. He was coming to a bridge. A section in the middle was missing! But he had no choice. He had to go for it. The other motorcycles screeched to a stop. Hude rolled the throttle. He lowered his head and torso close to the bike. The motorcycle soared into the air.
“Come on, come on, come on! ... Bummer. I bit