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1 READING
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2 TRANSLATION
Every summer my family used to go on holiday to the coast. We always went to the same place and stayed at the same small guesthouse. We would stay for two weeks, swimming in the sea, eating cheese sandwiches on the beach, and walking around the little town. In other words we never did anything very much and nothing ever really happened on these vacations.
My family consisted of my father, the manager of a small bank in our village in Surrey, my mother who was a housewife, my brother Ron, who was two years older than me, and me. My name is Ben.
Key words:
Guesthouse: a small hotel or private home where people can pay to spend the night
At the time of this story I was eight years old. Most people can
At the time of this story I was eight years old. Most people can remember this particular summer, as it was the best summer England had had since records began. It didn’t rain throughout June and July and the sun shone through a clear, blue sky, day in and day out. The newspapers called it a “scorcher” and people were heard to complain that it was “just too hot” to go out or do anything at all.
But Ron and I loved the heat and the sun. We were fed up with the long, grey, rainy days of the never-ending winter and the disappointing spring to worry about the dangers of getting sunburnt. So every day, down by the coast, we would ride our bicycles further and further away from the small guesthouse while our mother lay in her room reading her fat books and father sat in the cool of a pub garden struggling with his crosswords.
Key Words:
Struggle: to experience difficulty, especially financial difficulty
One day Ron decided that we should ride our bikes down the coast as far as the old railway station and then follow the track of the disused railway and see where it would lead us. I was happy to follow Ron as usual and we set off after breakfast on yet another gloriously sunny day.
We had been as far as the old station the year before so this part of our journey was familiar to us. At the deserted station we rested for a while and drank water from our water bottles. The only sounds to reach us were the distant drone of a tractor in a field and the gentle buzzing of a bee nearby.
“OK, Ben,” said Ron, “let’s go and explore the old railway. This line hasn’t been used for twenty years so it might be a bit overgrown.”
Key Words:
Disused: no longer in use
Gloriously: in a very beautiful way that makes you feel happy
Deserted: there are no people there
Deserted: there are no people there
Drone: a low continuous sound
With that he set off and I pedalled after him. At first the track was easy to follow and we cycled along side by side. After a while the grass grew thicker and we had to ride in single file. Ron led the way. The narrow pathway then went into a cutting in a hill and it gradually grew darker as the branches of the trees that grew by the side of the track formed an archway over the old railway.
Ron braked suddenly. “Look ahead!” he exclaimed. I stopped next to him and squinted through the gloom. I could see a white, wooden gateway across a black opening in the hill ahead.
“It’s a tunnel,” I said.
“Yes, and it says ‘Keep Out’ on the gate,” replied Ron. “Do you want to have a look inside?”
Actually I didn’t want to go inside. I felt chilly, all of a sudden, and I wanted to go back out into the sunlight. But I answered, “You bet!” and moved ahead.
Key Words:
In single file: a line of people or things in which one is directly behind the other
Cutting: a passage cut through something such as rock to allow a road or railway to pass through
Squint: to close your eyes slightly and try to see something, either because of a bright light or because your eyes do not work very well
Gloom: darkness in which it is difficult to see clearly
We left our bikes leaning against the gate and climbed over. We entered the cool tunnel. It got dark very quickly and then little by little our eyes adjusted to the darkness. I groped my way behind Ron as he slowly moved further into the tunnel.
The air inside the tunnel was thick and heavy like a blanket. It lay over us, smothering our faces and made me want to gasp for breath. Above our head there was a rustling sound that grew louder and louder.
bright shades.
“What’s that?” I called out.
“Bats,” said Ron. “Keep your head down,” and he moved away again.
“Don’t go so fast,” I called after him. I meant, “don’t leave me behind”, but I didn’t say so.
Key Words:
Adjust: to change something slightly in order to make it better, more accurate, or more effective
Grope: to try to get to a place by feeling the way with your hands
Smother: to cover something completely
Gasp: to get enough air into your lungs by breathing in quickly
Rustling: the sound that paper or leaves make, for example when the wind blows on them
The next thing I knew was a loud crack right above us, a roaring sound like an express train and then a scream.
“Ron!” I shouted. “Ron, what’s up? Can you hear me?” No reply. “Speak to me Ron, tell me what’s happened.”
The air was now a giant hand choking me. I inched forward to where Ron had been and found a pile of earth and loose rock. As I reached out to hold onto the rock I felt something wet — Ron’s face!
His eyes were closed and he was breathing awkwardly. “It’s OK, Ron,” I
whispered. “I’ll dig you out.”
There was a muffled groan. I could see the whites of Ron’s eyes as he said, “I think I’ve broken my leg. The pain is terrible. Just go and get help, Ben.”
“No,” I replied. “I won’t leave you here. The roof has fallen in and more might come down at any time. I’ll get you out of here to safety first.” So saying, I started digging away the dirt and rocks with my bare hands.
Key Words:
Choke: to be unable to breathe because there is not enough air or because something is blocking your throat
Awkwardly: in a way that shows you are not comfortable, relaxed, or confident
Groan: a long low sound that a person makes, especially when they are in pain or unhappy
Muffle：difficult to hear because the sound is blocked by something
I felt calm. I felt in control. It took a long time to clear away the earth covering Ron. Every time I touched his leg he let out a moan. Finally I managed to clear enough debris away to free his body. Holding him under the arms I dragged him backwards, inch by inch, towards the pinhole of light that was the tunnel entrance.
It seemed to take ages but finally I had pulled Ron out of the tunnel. He didn’t look too well. His face was white and covered in sweat and he was biting his lip to stop himself crying out with the pain. I found our bikes and brought the two water bottles to Ron.
“Here, drink these,” I said. “I’ll go and get help. I’ll be as quick as I can.” In reply Ron simply pressed my hands.
Key Words:
Debris: the broken pieces that are left when something large has been destroyed, especially by an explosion, fire, or accident
I got on my bicycle and raced back along the track to the old station. There was no one about so I took the road and followed it until I got to a farmhouse. I ran through the yard, ignoring the dog that started barking and found a woman washing some dishes in the kitchen.
“Excuse me,” I cried out. “But please help me. My brother has had an accident in the old railway tunnel and has broken his leg. Can you call for an ambulance please?”
The woman turned to me and said. “We don’t have a phone but Fred has got a car. He can drive to pick up your brother and take him to hospital.”
Fred came along and we drove in his car down the track to the tunnel. There was the bicycle leaning against the gate but where was Ron? “Ron, hey Ron?” I called.
And then there he was, sitting under a tree beside the track with a stupid grin on his face. “I’m sorry,” he said to the farmer. “I think I’ve broken my ankle.”
He had broken his ankle. Fred took us to the hospital where his leg was put in plaster and then drove us back to the guesthouse to see our parents, who had become worried about us.
Key Words:
In plaster: (a broken bone) protected by a hard cover
My mother cried with relief when she saw Ron but all my father could say was, “Let that be a lesson to you” before turning back to his newspaper.
And what was that lesson? It was “‘Keep out’ means stay out of trouble.” Ron is now the manager of the local bank just like our father. And me? I am a mountain rescue officer.
Perhaps we both learnt lessons from this holiday adventure!
