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    Do Carpenters Dream of Wooden Sheep?
    Do Carpenters Dream of Wooden Sheep?
    Do Carpenters Dream of Wooden Sheep?
    Ebook133 pages1 hour

    Do Carpenters Dream of Wooden Sheep?

    By Corinna Turner

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    About this ebook

    The Story of St. Joseph—with a Sci-Fi Twist!
    Razim’s staying overnight to help his friend Daniel, who’s sick with leukaemia, but he’s forgotten his phone! Lying awake after watching Blade Runner, Razim reads the only story he can find—about Joseph and Mary—only to fall asleep and find himself in futuristic Merillia.
    In Merillia, his name is Cleopas, and his big brother, Jo, is considering an arranged marriage to a girl called Miryam. Soon, events are in motion that will change their lives—and the world—forever.
    For anyone who feels over-familiar with the Holy Family’s story after Christmas after Christmas of nativity plays, this imaginative re-telling thoroughly blows the dust off.
    A standalone spin-off from Corinna Turner’s ‘Friends in High Places’ series, it can be read on its own or in between books 1 and 2.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCorinna Turner
    Release dateMay 31, 2021
    ISBN9781910806197
    Do Carpenters Dream of Wooden Sheep?
    Author

    Corinna Turner

    Corinna Turner has been writing since she was fourteen and likes strong protagonists with plenty of integrity. She has an MA in English from Oxford University, but has foolishly gone on to work with both children and animals! Juggling work with the disabled and being a midwife to sheep, she spends as much time as she can in a little hut at the bottom of the garden, writing.She is a Catholic Christian with roots in the Methodist and Anglican churches. A keen cinema-goer, she lives in the UK with her Giant African Land Snail, Peter, who has a six inch long shell and an even larger foot!

    Read more from Corinna Turner

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      Book preview

      Do Carpenters Dream of Wooden Sheep? - Corinna Turner

      PRAISE FOR CORINNA TURNER’S BOOKS

      LIBERATION: nominated for the Carnegie Medal Award 2016.

      ELFLING: 1st prize, Teen Fiction, CPA Book Awards 2019

      I AM MARGARET & BANE’S EYES: finalists, CALA Award 2016/2018.

      LIBERATION & THE SIEGE OF REGINALD HILL: 3rd place, CPA Book Awards 2016/2019.

      Corinna Turner was awarded the St. Katherine Drexel Award in 2022.

      PRAISE FOR I AM MARGARET

      Great style—very good characters and pace. Definitely a book worth reading, like The Hunger Games.

      EOIN COLFER, author of the Artemis Fowl books

      PRAISE FOR DO CARPENTERS DREAM OF WOODEN SHEEP?

      The friendship in action of Razim shines through, as does Daniel’s deep faith in God. Razim’s dream is an imaginative retelling of St. Joseph’s life and should appeal to the techie gadget-loving reader. This is a story that will work with young adults male and female.

      SR. TERESA CARDINEZ O.P.

      A fresh and enjoyable approach to the life of St. Joseph, cleverly incorporated into a dream. The story really hit home for me on several levels.

      ANDREA JO RODGERS, author of award-winning Saving Mount Rushmore

      It’s difficult to re-tell such an overly familiar story like Joseph’s and the Nativity story, but this creative adaption gives it a fresh twist!

      CAROLYN ASTFALK, author of Rightfully Ours

      Really great for nerds like me!

      ROBERT, age 12

      ---+---

      DO CARPENTERS DREAM OF WOODEN SHEEP?

      ST. JOSEPH’S STORY

      as dreamt by a sleeping teenage boy

      A FRIENDS IN HIGH PLACES SPIN-OFF

      CORINNA TURNER

      Copyright 2021 Corinna Turner

      ---+---

      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 use only, then please return to your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      ---+---

      CONTENTS

      1: Bedtime Reading

      2: The Betrothal

      3: The Betrayal

      4: The Light

      5: Registration

      6: A House Divided

      7: Run, Cleo, Run

      8: Exile

      9: The Carpenter’s Apprentice

      10: Homecoming

      11: Lost and Found

      12: Mad Acts of Friendship

      Going Deeper

      More Information

      Discussion Questions

      Prayers

      The Complete Scriptural Account

      OLD MEN DON’T WALK TO EGYPT Sneak Peek

      Other Books by Corinna Turner

      Acknowledgements

      About the Author

      Connect with Corinna Turner

      Boring Legal Bit

      ---+---

      DO CARPENTERS DREAM OF WOODEN SHEEP?

      ---+---

      CHAPTER 1

      BEDTIME READING

      Oh… Swearing under my breath, I fish around in my overnight bag, even though I have a crystal-clear memory of plugging the charger into my phone and leaving it on my window ledge at home. No phone for me tonight.

      I wasn’t very loud, but over on the bed, Daniel stirs slightly. What’s wrong, Razim?

      I stop rummaging in my bag and lie still on my wobbly camp bed, not wanting to disturb him. Oh, nothing.

      Daniel’s particularly tired tonight and he doesn’t press the issue. I hear his breathing deepen and slow as he falls asleep, but I don’t feel sleepy yet. I should, ’cos I was here Monday night and I’ll be here again next Monday and I can’t believe how tiring it is having even two disrupted nights a week. But that’s why I’m here, of course.

      When Daniel had his first round of chemo his parents insisted on one of them staying with him in his room every night, in case he needed anything. Daniel swore—still does—that he doesn’t need it, but after the morning when they found vomit in a lot of places it shouldn’t be, and Daniel curled up freezing-cold in the middle of the floor halfway to the bathroom because he’d got too tired to crawl back into bed, they insisted.

      But they were like zombies by the end and that really upset Daniel. So when his second round of chemo clashed with another Covid lockdown, I hatched a clever plan. Well, I thought so at the time. I could come and stay over two nights a week to give his mum and dad a break. And that way I’d get to see Daniel, despite the lockdown, because I’d count as a ‘carer.’

      It took a lot of persuading, with both sets of parents—we coaxed, we argued, we even begged—and then to my shame, I almost quit after the first time. I suppose I had this idea that we’d chat and have at least a bit of fun. I guess I wasn’t really prepared for all the—

      Over on the bed, Daniel stirs, making a slight retching sound. I leap up from the camp bed, grab the basin from the floor and hold it out. Need this?

      Ugh…

      Yep, he vomits.

      You done? I ask at last, trying, as usual, to sound as though holding a basin of puke is no biggie.

      Think so. His head sinks towards his pajama sleeve so I put the bowl down quick, snatch a tissue and hastily wipe his chin. I’ve learned all sorts of little tricks for keeping the smell down. He’s so pale, the brown skin of my hand contrasts sharply with his face. Coffee and Cream, my big brother Sayeed used to call us—and not in a nice way—but when he saw Daniel after his first round of chemo he called us Coffee and Milksop. I pushed him over into a bush but then I couldn’t run for it the way I usually would because Daniel wasn’t up to it, so I got well-pounded. Daniel said I shouldn’t have reacted but he also gave me a tissue for my nose so I forgave him.

      You gonna need this again, man? I nod to the bowl.

      Daniel shakes his head without lifting it. Don’t see how I can possibly have any more where that came from, he jokes weakly.

      Too right. It’s been particularly bad, tonight. We tried to watch Bladerunner after I arrived—well, after I’d showered and put on clean clothes to reduce the risk of transmitting anything to immunosuppressed Daniel—but Daniel puked through most of it. Ugh, he’s fifteen, not much older than me, he shouldn’t be this sick!

      I barely managed to make myself come back, the second time, it was all such a shock. The vomiting. The stench. And just…seeing Daniel this weak and down. Unbearable. But I figured I wasn’t much of a friend if I could let a bit of puke stop me helping out, and I made myself come back. And I’m glad. I mean, he’s my best mate, but if he can’t beat this leukemia, well, he could just be…gone…by the time this Covid-thing is all over.

      You’re nearly done with the chemo, right? I say, when his eyes don’t close again immediately. There’re what, less than two weeks left? Like we don’t both know that, but it’s the most cheerful thing I can think to say.

      Yep. He musters a smile.

      Even with his weird new optimism about everything, a few times he’s got so tired that he’s just cried. Quiet, helpless weeping, like he simply can’t help it. It’s horrible. And I can tell he’s ashamed when he gets like that, so I just talk cheerful, like crying’s no big deal, and try to distract him from how awful he’s feeling, but I don’t feel like it works. Thankfully, he’s not quite that tired tonight. Yet.

      And the Lockdown’s easing on twenty-ninth March, I say. So, just think, a few days to get your strength back, and we can go down to the park, get an ice cream, fly my hovercraft… I got a remote-controlled hovercraft for Christmas, and Daniel hasn’t had much chance to see it in action, yet. It knocks the socks off a remote control car or boat, the way it can just go straight down the bank and out onto the lake.

      Daniel nods and smiles. Well, if it’s actually still in one piece!

      I laugh. Yeah, okay, I pulled it apart and changed a few things, but I got it back together okay.

      Of course you did, murmurs Daniel. But then his smile fades. His hand rises to run over his bald head. Wish it wasn’t getting so hot— He breaks off suddenly, his pale cheeks going slightly pink, the way they do when he feels like he’s been grumbling. The new Daniel doesn’t hold with grumbling.

      I guess he’s worried he won’t want to wear a woolly hat, the way he did after his last course of treatment. I remember after his hair started falling out again, all couple of millimeters of it, how he just muttered, Here we go again, and never said another word about it. I guess it bothers him more than he likes to let on.

      Ah, we’ll be, like, a skinhead gang, man. It’ll be cool.

      Daniel shoots me a look, smiles a too-polite smile and closes his eyes.

      Okay, that went down like a lead balloon. Guess you can’t really have a skinhead ‘gang’ when only one of you is bald. I carry the stinking basin to the bathroom, empty it and rinse it

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