Ostrich Boysby Keith Gray
"It's not really kidnapping, is it? He'd have to be alive for it to be proper kidnapping."
Ross is dead, and Blake, Sim, and Kenny are furious. To make things right, they steal Ross's ashes and set out from their home on the English coast for the tiny village of Ross in southern Scotland, a place their best friend had always wanted to go. But the boys' plan for a… See more details below
"It's not really kidnapping, is it? He'd have to be alive for it to be proper kidnapping."
Ross is dead, and Blake, Sim, and Kenny are furious. To make things right, they steal Ross's ashes and set out from their home on the English coast for the tiny village of Ross in southern Scotland, a place their best friend had always wanted to go. But the boys' plan for a quick two-day trip turns into an unforgettable journey with illegal train rides, bungee jumping, girls, and high-speed police chases—all with Ross's ashes along for the ride. As events spin wildly out of control, the three friends must take their heads out of the sand long enough to answer the question: What really happened to Ross?
An award-winning author in the U.K., Keith Gray makes his U.S. debut with this action-packed and darkly humorous YA novel about friendship and loss.
- Random House Children's Books
- Publication date:
- Product dimensions:
- 5.40(w) x 8.10(h) x 0.80(d)
- Age Range:
- 12 Years
Read an Excerpt
Our best friend was ash in a jar. Ross was dead. Kenny, Sim and I were learning to live with it.
And this was all Sim's idea. It was just that Kenny and I weren't convinced exactly how great an idea it was.
We'd had to wait for it to get dark, which at this time of year wasn't until after half-ten. We'd given it until eleven. Now we were crouched whispering in the shadow of some scraggy fir trees in the front garden of the history teacher's house. We hadbranches jabbing at us, needles in our hair and down the backs of our collars. But no matter how much we shuffled and hunkered, the shadow wasn't quite big enough. We were still wearing our dark funeral clothes, and that helped. The problem was Kenny, who keptsquirming, shoving bits of me and Sim out into the glare of the streetlights. All it would take was one eagle eye to look our way and we'd be seen for sure.
A car sped by and we ducked our heads. It wasn't just the warm June night making me sweat.
"This is for Ross, remember," Sim whispered. "We can't flake out nowwe all agreed. You agreed too, Kenny. Don't say you didn't."
Kenny made a noisenot quite yes, not quite no. "Can't we just put a note through his door or something? I'm telling you: if we get caught"
Sim looked disgusted. "Christ-on-a-bike, Kenny! You want to write a poem in a card too? A card with love hearts and rabbits wearing hats on the front?" He shook his head, popped the lid off the can of spray paint he was clutching. "No. It's got to be big."
Kenny opened his mouth to argue but I nudged his arm, hushing him.
Mr. Fowler's house was a corner terrace with a small square of scrappy garden on Brereton Avea busy enough road within walking distance of the pubs and clubs along the sea front. It was Friday night in Cleethorpes and for most people the only place tobe were those pubs and clubs. We could hear giggling and chatter from a group of girls clacking along the pavement in their heels. We huddled down even further under the fir trees, ignoring another showering of needles. One of the girls wanted to get a taxi,her feet were killing herbut her friends said it wasn't worth it, they were nearly there now. We waited for them to decide. I stared hard at the ground, hoping they wouldn't look at us if we didn't look at them.
At last they walked on and I whispered, "Either we do it or we don't, okay? We can't stay here all night arguing about it." I didn't care how edgy I sounded. More edgy than nervous. Of course I was worried about being seen, but more than that I still wasn't convinced this was the right thing to do. For Ross, I mean. I didn't give a damn about Mr. Fowler.
Two, three cars swept by.
"I don't want to do it," Kenny said. "We shouldn't do it."
"I'm gonna do it," Sim said.
"Well, yeah," Kenny agreed. "It's your idea, so you should do it."
Sim looked to me. "Blake?"
"You're gonna do it whatever I say."
He grinned. "I know."
Kenny felt brave enough to poke his head out from under the low branches, looking toward the house's dark front windows. "D'you think he's in?"
Sim shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not."
"There're no lights on," I said. And then, just like that, one went on behind the front-room curtains. I ducked my head and swore.
"He's in! He's in!" Kenny hissed. He scrabbled as far back under the fir trees as he could get, pushing me and Sim out into the open again. I had to elbow my way back into hiding.
We kept our eyes on the glow of light behind those curtains. What was Mr. Fowler doing in there? Watching TV? Reading a book? Eating takeaway pizza? How come he could still do those things but our best friend was dead?
Ross was hit by a car, knocked off his bike. At the funeral the vicar had called it an accident. But somehow the word wasn't enough. It wasn't big enough, powerful enoughdidn't mean enough. He hadn't spilled a cup of tea, he hadn't tripped over his ownfeet. He'd had his life smashed out of him. It felt like there should be a whole new word invented just to describe it.
Sim didn't seem in the least bit worried that the teacher being home might make his plan riskier. Although I didn't think I'd ever seen Sim get nervous about anything much. He was more comfortable being angry. He had these dark brown eyes that hardenedlike snooker balls whenever he got mad. And he'd always had short hair, but only yesterday he'd had it shorn to within a millimeter of its life, leaving his freshly exposed scalp much too pale compared to the rest of him. In his funeral getup he looked like a fifteen-year-old version of the bouncers who guarded the doors to the rowdy clubs along the sea front.
Meet the Author
KEITH GRAY grew up in Grimsby, England, and knew that he wanted to be a writer even though he never received top marks in English. Since then, Keith has gone on to write seven books. He won the Angus Book Award and the Smarties Prize Silver Award. Ostrich Boys was shortlisted for the Carnegie Medal and the 2007 Costa Book Award. Visit Keith at his Web site Keith-Gray.com.
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Most Helpful Customer Reviews
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OSTRICH BOYS is about friendship and loyalty. Blake, Sim, and Kenny just lost their best friend, Ross. Hit by a car while riding his bike, he is gone and they can hardly believe it. After the boys attend his funeral, they decide the ceremony didn't do their friend justice. Ross was so much more than a collection of words and hymns. As a sort of revenge for the fact that he was taken in such unfair circumstances and at an early age, they concoct a plan to honor him in their own way. Ross always dreamed of visiting a town of the same name, Ross, Scotland. The three remaining friends "kidnap" Ross's ashes and head to Scotland. The removal of the funeral urn from Ross's home didn't go as smoothly as planned, so their scheme to take a train to Scotland and back in just two days turns into a sort of escape that has Ross's family and the families of the three boys frantic. Just before leaving Ross's house, his father confronted Blake about the possibility that Ross may have taken his own life by riding his bike into the path of the car. Blake is shocked by the question, as are Kenny and Sim, but shortly into their journey there is word that they have been on the evening news. Speculation is that the three boys are part of a suicide pact, and now the hunt is on. OSTRICH BOYS is filled with action and adventure. Each boy is unique - Blake is known as the intelligent one, Kenny is the computer whiz and happens to be the bankroll for their trip until he unfortunately forgets his bag while switching trains, and Sim possesses an amazing knowledge of collective nouns that is sure to fascinate and provide remarkably useless information for readers. Author Keith Gray combines bungee jumping, wild train rides, quirky characters, and the emotional upheaval of losing a close friend to create an incredible tale. A bit of a slow start might discourage some readers, but if they are encouraged to stick with it, most will find it a rewarding read.
Zured and Kerov ducked under low branches and swatted away mosquitoes. Zured kept track of where Moba and her friend were going...to a high precipice. The oasis ended as Zured and Kerov reached here and Zured now understood when he saw a big hole in the earth. He knew Cabaro was in there. He could see the understandment in Kerov's eyes too. They quietly trundled down a small hill from the oasis and made sure they didn't fall off the precipice. Moba and her friend gathered a vine with thorns and lowered it down the hole. "Cabaro...psst! Wake, up! It's me, Moba! We're coming to save you!" Moba whispered. "I don't want a huge rescue. I'm useless without the talisman. The humans STOLE it," Zured heard Cabaro's voice from the hole,"I was trying to defend MY talisman and somehow, a big hole erupted from the earth from nowhere and a little blond boy with his pet Briggan took advantage and took the talisman from ME!" Zured gasped. Kerov widened his eyes. If Cabaro caught Zured and Kerov alive, he would blame them for losing his talisman. "We need to get out of here," Kerov whispered. "Shh!" Zured hushed him. "Moba, have you seen any ostrich guards alive? If they are, bring them to me. They will not be killed, but will be severly punished." Before Moba could even answer, Cabaro said,"Zured and Kerov. I know your scents-come here." "I don't want to betray Cabaro," Zured told his brother,"I have to go." "No-" Kerov tried to stop Zured, but Zured didn't listen. He went over to where Moba, her friend, and Cabaro were.
This book has action and adventure and comedy. This book will make you want to cry and laugh. Great and outstanding book overall.