Excerpt for Wolf, the Explorer #0.5 (Karabas in Old Turkey) by , available in its entirety at Smashwords



Karabas in Old Turkey

For Beyko, our Golden one.

Even the darkest night will end, and the sun will rise!”

- Victor Hugo (Les Misérables)

Leen Lefebre



Karabas in Old Turkey




#0.5/ Karabas in Old Turkey (Prequel)

#1/ Wolf in Old Belgium (Prologue)

#2/ Wolf in New Morocco

#3/ Wolf in the New Dominican Republic

#4/ Wolf in New France

#5/ Wolf in New Madeira

#6/ Wolf in the New Azores

#7/ Wolf in the New Netherlands

#8/ Wolf in the New United Kingdom

#9/ Wolf in New Rhodos

#10/ Wolf in the New Land of the Sami

#11/ Wolf in NewTurkey

#12/ Mr. Eagle in New Belgium (Epilogue)

#12.5/ Hold on Tight! (Song of Hope)

© 2018 Leen Lefebre (e-book)

© 2014 Leen Lefebre (Dutch e-book) - Original title: “Karabas”

All rights reserved

Cover photo © Carlos Morón Villar

Cover design © Leen Lefebre

ISBN: 9780463491041 (epub)

ASIN: B07M6B7X9W (mobi)

D/2018/Leen Lefebre, uitgever

No part of this book may be translated, used or reproduced in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval systems, or by any manner whatsoever, without prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

MISSION #0.5 (Prequel)

Karabas in Old Turkey”

A deafening noise rages through the atmosphere.

Instinctively I pull back. A shiver glides over my spine. Is…, is this the end, then?

I look skittishly around me. The ground vibrates, and this expands to a dangerous thunder. An immense cloud blocks the sun and comes straight towards me.

The menacing darkness blocks my view as I run for my life. I stumble and alas I can’t keep myself from falling now. A sudden and sharp pain shoots right through my ankle. I see blood!

I quickly get back on my feet. Panting and half limping I try to stay ahead of the dark.

Finally I reach the top of the mountain. My limbs vibrate. Howling I sit down on the rough rocky soil. My tears taste salty as sweat.

The serenity slowly returns inside. Yet, something seems not right! I look up uncertainly to the graphite grey sky.

The earth trembles a second time. I brace myself – holding on tight. The swirling water is rapidly migrating inland. With a sinister sound, the waves drag everything along mercilessly. The tiny huts in the valley collapse like houses of cards. The lower land is renamed “Sea”.

While a tsunami conquers this mountain area below, I close myself off. I pray for the sky to turn crystal clear. And when I wake up I hope this is nothing more than a bad dream.

I can’t help but open my eyelids. That ominous heaven seems a bit brighter. The water level stops rising. I breathe a sigh of relief; Mother Nature seems to be no longer enraged.

Gradually I realize that I’m completely surrounded. My mountain peak is the only one towering above the blue plain. Water! Water everywhere. I hate water! I can’t help it – even a bath is too much. Luckily I’m high and dry up here.

Since today, there is hope again. For the first time in weeks the sun is shining. Hesitantly she pushes her body through the cloud cover.

Mother Sun fascinates me more than ever. Like a magnet she pulls me towards her.

I am afraid that one day the sun won’t rise anymore. For nights on end, I stay vigilant at the top. Each time her bulbous body climbs upwards in the air, I sigh of relief. When nobody looks, I thank her with a cheerful pirouette.

I stare at the grazing goats in a nearby meadow. My gaze descends further, to the newly formed coastline. Our people are very busy over there.

The colossal pine trees block our paths lifelessly. Once, those green giants created places full of peace – and a welcome shade. As of today, they are inexorably cut down.

The tree trunks are dragged down from the steep mountain slopes. Our men build a wooden village along the coast. A brand new settlement, yet on stilts though!

The mountain lake looks like a big washtub now our women wash their dusty clothes in it. Meanwhile the old drinking place of the herd also serves as one enormous freshwater reservoir. Out of pure necessity, the delicious spring water is accessible to every thirsty creature.

The deep blue sea water is anything but yummy. Once I tasted it – yuck!

Many hours of useful rest pass by but as soon as the sinking sphere touches the waterline and her great firepower fades away, I get ready for the night. My brother rushes towards me. Right before the natural disaster, we learned the tricks of the goatherd’s job together. His long day shift has come to an end by now. An inevitable change of guards is there; I really have to leave!

I always first pick up my group of goats at the lake, and then lead them to a higher plain for grazing. I am a born herder, if I may say so myself. If only my parents could see it; they would be ever so proud!

Under no circumstances do I want to swap with the village builders down below. Up there, amidst all the beauty of Nature, I feel some peace within. On top of that, each service starts and ends with a magical view on a travelling sphere.

I now walk between chattering women and playing children. Concentrated I herd the hungry goats. A fading glow still illuminates our climb and leads us along rough paths.

At a fast pace I lead them uphill, over the narrow trail. In the overwhelming depth I notice how the lights along the coastline demarcate the abandoned building site.

A sea, which can never be trusted again, keeps an eye on me anytime and anywhere – yet from a safe distance. Thank heavens!

On schedule we reach the plateau. Mother Sun just disappears into her bath. To preserve the existence of Nature she has no choice but to extinguish her fiery but tiring nature at night.

I accompany the goats to the centre of the meadow and plop down on my belly, exhausted yet still partly alert.

Here, high up on the bare mountain, the wind sings to me sweetly: “All will be well – you can relax now!” Her voice echoes in my cloudy head. A satisfied feeling overwhelms me as a calming chant drifts me off to the land of nod.

A sea of flames manages to pierce my dormant senses.

My eyelids weigh kind of like lead. I reluctantly unlock them. I am immediately delighted that I did so – as I’m standing face to face with undoubtedly the most beautiful fireball that ever existed.

After a turbulent night I yawn out loud. My brother must recover, and therefore is allowed to continue sleeping. It’s more crowded than ever at the lake. Since the natural disaster all people gather around it. The lower plain has been transformed into a noisy campsite.

I fully enjoy the silence up here. Where has the good old days gone anyway? It does not even seem that long ago. For my part, that village on stilts in the sea cannot be finished fast enough. Only then the peace will return there down as well.

As a whirlwind I circle the white-wooled gang. It’s not easy to collect such a chaotic herd, let alone keep together. I, an apprentice goatherd, know what I’m talking about!

Swiftly I track an inattentive mother goat. No idea what drives the poor beast. Her kid takes a shortcut. I rush to get there.

I clamp my body around that vibrating goat, panting. My eyes cast a fleeting glance into the abyss next to the hiking trail. I shudder. Gee, that was terribly close!

Sometimes I wish I had more eyes. After all the animals are of vital importance. Their woollen fur supplies us with warm clothes.

The herd also provides us with buckets full of fresh and tasty milk. Tasty? Well, let us better use the word nutritious, for I myself turn up my nose for milk. I’d rather drink water straight from that lower lake!

The little goat struggles to escape from my tight grip. I gently push it, to the safer mountainside. Further on there is a goat entangled with its curly coat in a bush along the path. It takes me a lot of effort to free the most stubborn woolly animal from the universe.

Beads of sweat break out and drip down my spinal cord. A romantic fairytalish image of a goatherd’s life is above all fake, and our duty should not be underestimated.

I lead the herd further downhill. Not much later I give the last goat in the row a gentle push through the dense bushes. I am ever so grateful – I’m just in time to see the sun at its greatest.

While my group of goats eagerly drink out of the lake, I catch sight of my brother. He is already faithfully at his post – as befits a genuine goatherd boy.


I turn around. Surprised by the harsh light, I attempt to look ahead of me.

Then I recognize that voice. I react with my deep bass, push myself off and… jump! Promptly I plant my dirty paws on the wobbly upper body of the boy. Together we tumble through the grass.

As a greeting I push my wet nose against his.

Two dark eyes, under equally dark hairs, look at me quite amused. Unashamedly I lick his whole face clean.

Gosh, Altan – are you serious? Get up!”

Mother comes rushing in with a soft, damp cloth in her right hand. She kneels next to her son and wipes my drool off his face.

I can only thank her for so much love. Before I even realize it, I also pamper her with a beauty scrub. Oh well, the urge is just too strong.

Of course I’m a well behaved pup but I also like to imitate the mischief of my human brother. Luckily she can laugh about it.

Despite her fresly washed dress, she now embraces me as her own kid. Mmm! Her wet hair locks smell like meadow flowers plucked in the Old World.

Ha-choo! Ha-choo!” It sure tickles all of my senses, which creates an instant link to the past and a gateway to the future.

As little Altan descends to play along the coast, I follow his mother wagging my tail to the beige cooking tent. Gee, I’m so hungry, I could eat a horse!

The door is ajar and my prying eyes keep close track of each movement inside the kitchen. It doesn’t take long before fine fragrances, of equally tasty spices, float towards me. The water runs into my mouth. Waiting for the chef to call my name, I lick my lips impatiently.

On the tent fabric I catch a beautiful reflection of a warm glow that seems both near and far. So mysteriously far-reaching, and yet totally out of reach, Mother Sun fascinates me deeply.

After turning my head, I intensely enjoy the warmth of her endless rays on my face. Yawning I open my mouth and close it. I narrow my eyes to slits. My tummy is rumbling. I whine softly.

The surrounding voices gradually disappear into the background. I make frantic attempts to keep my eyelids wide open but I don’t succeed. Dog-tired my soul reaches for a deep peaceful state of mind.

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Leen Lefebre, the author

The author shines in the role of “true warrior” in her own tiny tale:

Leen’s waking mind never stands still, for in her wonderful world there is always something to explore. This walking question mark eagerly awaits in front of that majestic gateway of her own magical fantasy land. Her adventurous soul lures her restless body into a new, a so much better world.

Nervously she touches her beating heart where she keeps her most precious key. With a brute force she pushes this jewel into an old door lock, and turns it firmly. “Oh no!” She lets her eyeballs roll. Why does this never ever seem to work at first?! Only just in time she recovers, gently giving a clockwise spin.

Yes!” Leen’s laughter is contagious. Her eyes are filled with tumbling fireflies. Shuffling she travels over an other yet untrodden path. The mystery beckons with a sparkle, and awakens her dreamy mood. However she doesn’t hesitate as it’s either now or never! Twinkles of hope dance cheerfully in her two grass-green, studious binoculars.

With sharpened senses and her wild hair swaying in a fierce wind, she strides forward – like a brave warrior. Slowly a peaceful rest flows through her arteries and only after they’ve reached the thinnest fibres in her body, the new age child radiates – almost as reborn. This…, this sure feels like coming home!’

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