Hot Rod Todd Coloring Pages

Coloring Page

By Adrian Czarnecki

Though I love dreaming up and putting together my Siberian Husky themed children’s illustrated picture story books, Adventures of Hot Rod Todd, I don’t think of myself as an ‘author’ or as a ‘writer’. ‘Story teller’ sounds better. My books are so dependent upon the illustrations. That’s where illustrator Cameo Anderson http:// www.cameoanderson.com/ comes in. Cameo really can see into my mind’s eye interpreting my often rambling page descriptions into works of art; there’s a saying, “A picture is worth a thousand words” and with a children’s book that is so important and Cameo nails it every time and then some.

So, for your enjoyment, here is a page from the Coloring Book featuring some of the characters and scenes from the books. Coloring Book FREE PDF download available via website www.adventuresofhotrodtodd.com

Adrian S. Czarnecki is a semi-retired writer of Siberian Husky oriented children’s books based on an actual litter of 6 puppies born to his Dam Empress Maya and Sire Damien Czar on March 14th 2019. Born in Huddersfield, England, Adrian has travelled the world extensively pursuing careers in journalism, photography, PR / Marketing as well as print and sales. Adrian now lives in Idaho, USA with his wife Meta and their Siberian Huskies who keep them on their toes.

The Old Woman on the Bench

by N. Sherry

It was in early spring when Morag Wilson passed away. Her only known relative was her daughter, Kate.

Morag had worked in the medical profession all of her working life. Kate would be the first to acknowledge that the widely held perception that medical personnel made the worst patients was in the most cases found to be true. However, she had loved her mother and had lavished attention on her, answering her every whimsical demand.

She was now carrying out her mother’s final demand.

Kate could never in her wildest dreams have foreseen the difficulties she would have in carrying out her mother’s dying wish. Or the journey that it would take her on. And the terrible secret that the journey would reveal. Her mother had certainly been demanding and an emotionally draining person for as long as Kate could recall. But during the latter stages of her illness, she had become almost like a cold-hearted stranger. Kate was sitting beside her mother’s bed when her mother had turned her head to meet Kate’s eye’s, soft from unshed tears. However, Morag’s eyes were bright and seemed to look straight through her. Her voice was barely audible as she spoke to Kate.

“Kate, I want you to give me your word?” she had asked. And Kate had given her word.

“What I want you to do is simple.” Simple and Morag did not belong in the same breath, Kate mused. spare.” Her mother’s breathing was shallow and Kate had leaned closer. “I want you to go to Ochiltree, in Strathclyde.” Her mother fell silent for a while lost in her memories, a faraway look in her eyes. “It is a beautiful little hamlet. You know, I once lived close to there,” she whispered. As an after thought she added. “You will have no problem finding it.” Her eyes had taken on a gleam of an inner light from some distant memory.

“When you get there, you must find the little babbling brook that runs under the small stone bridge, it meanders along a walkway.” Her mother had become silent again. Her eyes closed a smile on her face. Kate watched her mother’s changing expressions and could only imagine that she was reviewing pleasant memories. “It is there you must scatter my ashes.” She had opened her eyes and was staring at Kate. “There is just one thing more. The blue check coat.”

“Bring it with you, and hand it into the local charity shop on the main street.” A mischievous glint had flashed across her eyes for just a moment. “Why did you keep that coat?” Kate asked. “You never wore it.”

“I did once, and once only, you wouldn’t remember.”

A pleasant looking young girl was on duty at the check out and while paying for the magazine she had chosen; Kate made her enquiries, however, the reply was disappointing. “I am sorry I am not from around here.” The young girl replied. Kate turned to leave and the girl followed her to the door.

The man I loved, he loved someone else.” Her mother closed her eyes.

“Now it has a wrong to put right.” She gripped Kate’s hand with a strength Kate didn’t realise she still had. “Promise me now, someone must remember, I never meant to keep….” Her grip loosened and her hand fell away, the light faded from her eyes her mother had gone.

She had asked and Kate had promised.

Kate had asked and been granted time from her job to carry out her mother’s dying wish. She had rented a small car and made the long journey to Strathclyde. She had driven there on the busy northern motorway. Seeing the sign for Ochiltree, she had followed it and reached her destination. Looking around there was nothing she could recognise from her mother’s description. This place was not a little hamlet but a bustling town. Kate knew she had the right place, there were no two places with similar names. She had found an old map in her mother’s belongings with it clearly marked out. Yes, this definitely was Ochiltree. Yes, she was in the right place, just the wrong time. The boom times had reached Ochiltree before her. The little brook was dried up and a motorway now sped along where the bridge and walkway must have been. Kate looked around in dismay, before making her way to the big service station. It was always a good place to make direction enquiries. “I think, perhaps she may know.” She said, inclining her head in the direction of a lonely figure. The woman was sitting on a bench beneath the overhanging branches, of an ancient looking tree. Probably the same tree this place got its name from, Kate thought.

“She is always there.” The girl added. “Yes, she might know. I think her name is May. I overheard a customer speaking about her.”

“Thank you. Will it be all right if I leave my car here?” Kate asked.

“Yes, your car will be ok there.” The girl replied. Opening the boot, of her car, Kate took out a bag and inside it was the blue check coat. She hadn’t seen any charity shop. And it looked as though the old woman could be doing with some charity. What better to do with the coat than give it to her, Kate thought?

Kate made her way over to where the lonely figure was sitting, placed the magazine on the seat, and sat down. Without looking in Kate’s direction the old woman spoke.

“Please don’t sit there.” Kate was surprised by the articulated tones of the woman’s voice, while she recognised it was laden with sadness. Looking closer at the woman, she noticed she was not much older than her late mother. Only her face was lined and her eyes sad. Kate stood up.

“I am sorry, but I was told that you may be able to help me?” Kate said. “I am looking for the little stone bridge and the stream that flowed under it?”

Kate was not sure if the woman had heard her. If she had, she didn’t answer her, for a short while.

“I just can’t let you sit there. If my daughter came back and saw me sitting with a stranger, she might think I had forgotten her.” The woman explained.

“Your daughter, is she in one of the shops?” Kate asked. The old woman turned towards Kate. “Have you children?” she asked Kate.

“No, I don’t.” Kate replied.

“Well, I had. My baby girl and I were sitting here thirty years ago this Sunday.” She peered closer at Kate. “My Catherine is beautiful. She has eyes like yours, lovely dark brown like her fathers.”

Kate lowered her head and looked furtively around her. She might be lost in this strange town, but this woman had psychological problems and she didn’t want to be seen talking with her. The woman continued to talk as though to her self. “We were sitting here on this exact spot. They were going to do away with it you know, when they ran the motorway through here, but I convinced them to leave it.”

There was such a sad faraway look on her face and a tear crept down her cheek.

“A lady joined us. She took Catherine to throw pebbles in the stream, and my baby has never come back.” A loud sob shook the woman’s frail frame, as she said.

“The woman wore a bright blue, check coat.”

Kate clutched the bag she was still holding tightly to her bosom, while she remained frozen to the spot.

I am a writer in several genres. I love stories and am always thinking about the next journey in creating a life and world for what is still an undeveloped plot and personnel.

I am also a Holistic therapist in several disciplines. I am a life coach and counselor in Mindfulness, Druidism, Shamanic, and some other disciplines.

Enjoy my stories Nuala