Summer Bird Stories

Family-Friendly Short Stories, Cartoons, and Illustrations

An Especially Strange Coconut

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“I’ve brought home a treat today,” Dad said.

“What is it?” Walter asked.

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands,” Dad said.

“Oh, weird,” Walter said. He opened his eyes. “It looks like a hairy bowling ball. Is it dead?”

“That is a coconut,” Dad said.

“That is so weird. It’s like a grown up kiwi fruit, but less squishy,” Walter said. He tried squeezing it harder between his palms and then turned it around in his hands. “So, how do you open it?”

“Follow me!” Dad led the way to the garage, where he pulled out a hammer.

“No way!” Walter said. “Can I hit it?”

“First we need to drain out the coconut water,” Dad said. He used the hammer and a nail to make two holes and then poured the water into a bowl in the kitchen.   Then, he spread out a towel on the floor and handed Walter a hammer.

“After you crack it open, we can scrape out the insides,” Dad said. “Well, go on.” He held out his arms wide. “Hit it like a piñata.”

“Yes!” Walter said. It took a few hits, but the coconut cracked open.

“Dad, is there supposed to be a phone inside?” Walter asked.

“No, there’s not,” Dad said. They both looked at the little black cell phone inside the coconut. “How did it get in there?”

“I don’t know,” Walter said. “I checked it, it was sealed tight.”

“I think it had to be or the coconut water would have leaked out,” Dad said.

The phone started ringing. “I think you should answer it, Dad,” Walter said.

“Yes, of course,” Dad said. He picked up the phone and tried swiping the screen.   Nothing happened. After a few moments the phone stopped ringing.

“It doesn’t have any buttons,” Dad said. Dad was turning the phone around in his hands when it started to ring again. He nearly dropped it.

“Careful!” Walter said, and reached his arms out to catch it if it fell. It didn’t.

Dad held the ringing phone up close to his face.   “Hello?” he said. The phone lit up. A blue light blinked at one end, next to a steady yellow light. White letters on a green square on the front showed the time, date, and GPS coordinates.

“Oh, good, you found my phone,” a deep voice said from out of the phone. “Just keep talking and I’ll find you.”

“What do you mean? How will you find us? Where are you?” Dad said.

“That’s great. Keep going,” the voice said. There was a banging, clattering sound outside, as though something had bumped into the trashcans out front. A moment later, there was a knock at the door.

“I’ll get the door,” Dad said. Walter followed right behind him.

A tall man was at the door. Walter had never seen someone so tall. He was unusually skinny and had a long, long face.   Walter was pretty sure he wasn’t human.   However, he wasn’t completely certain.

“Hello,” the tall man said in a deep voice. “I believe you have my phone.”

Dad looked down at the phone in his hand. The screen was dark, and the blue light was off, but the yellow light was still on. He handed it to the tall man.

“Thank you,” the man said. “These new phones are always getting lost the moment you set them down. I’ll have to send it back to the lab. Where was it this time?”

“Inside a coconut,” Walter said.

“That’s a new one!” The man said. “Thanks for finding it. Well, I have to go.” He walked down the street and turned the corner.

“Do you think he’s still there?” Walter asked.

“I doubt it,” Dad said.

Walter ran to check and walked back. “He’s gone. Do you think he was an alien?”

“I have no idea. That was so weird,” Dad said.

“Weirder than coconuts,” Walter said.

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Monster Bedtime

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“How was work dear?” monster mother asked at dinnertime.

“I loved it! I am so lucky to have a job in customer service. So many customers called to complain and shout at me. It was easy to imagine them dying terrible deaths.   I left work in such a good mood,” monster father said. “How was your day?”

“The daycare kids tore through the house like little hurricanes. It was music to my ears. I sent them all home covered in finger-paint and crumbs.”

“Can I have more cardboard and old shoes?” the older monster child asked.

“Of course Jamie dear. Remember to chew with your mouth open,” monster mother said.

“Me too?” The younger monster child asked.

“You haven’t eaten the laces, Taylor,” Jamie said.

Taylor growled. “I was going to play with them before I ate them,” he said.

“That’s fine then. Perhaps just a little cardboard, dear,” the monster mother said. “Then it’s off to bed with you both. Taylor, do you need any help brushing your teeth?”

“Yes,” Taylor said. He finished eating and brought out his toothbrush and a bar of soap. “Make sure it lathers really well, mom. I like the bubbles,” Taylor said.

Jamie started running a cold bath. “Dad, can you bring me some ice cubes?” she asked.

“Of course,” the monster father said.

After cold baths, with their teeth nicely brushed, the children piled onto the couch. Their father read them a scary story about a tax collector. Their mom sang them a beautiful, frightening song about forgetting to turn off the lights when you go to bed.

It was early when the monster children went to bed, just like they liked it.   They were neatly tucked under their beds with their lights off and their curtains firmly shut. “Mom,” Jamie said, “do you think there might be a tickly spider under my bed tonight?”

“I hope so darling,” the monster mother said.

“Dad,” Taylor said, “Do you think we’ll have socks and lima beans at lunch tomorrow? It’s my favorite.”

“Mine too. I especially like it when the socks don’t match,” the monster father said.

“Me too. I hope we do,” Taylor said.

Finally the kids were in bed. Monster mother and monster father decided to spend some quality time together paying bills. “Look at this one dear,” monster mother said. “It’s for three and a half dollars. Shall I write a check?”

“Of course. But make sure to use yellow ink. It’s really hard to read. And try to make your handwriting extra messy,” monster father said. “We want them to continue to do business with us.”

“Here, this one is for over twenty dollars,” monster mother said, pulling out another bill. “Let’s pay it in pennies.”

Just then, they heard a shriek from upstairs. “I don’t think that was happy-scared,” monster father said. “It had the distinct tone of unhappy-scared. I’ll go see what’s wrong.”

“I’ll wait to count the pennies until you get back,” monster mother said.

Monster father went down the stairs to the basement.   Jamie was snoring loudly under her bed, the picture of a peaceful and happy monster child.

Taylor, however, was sitting up next to his bed looking sad. “Dad, I had a bad dream,” he said.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” The monster father asked.

“I dreamed there was a teddy bear on my bed,” Taylor said. “When I woke up, I didn’t see it, but I know it’s there.” He sniffled a little.

“If there is, I’m sure it’s a vampire teddy, and that’s why it’s invisible,” the monster father said.

“Oh. That’s okay then,” Taylor said. He snuggled in under his bed and started to snore.

“Back to the bills,” monster father said. He smiled. What a great day!

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The Painting

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Billy inherited a painting of a cottage from his grandmother. It was a nice, friendly painting, with sun-dappled gardens and tall, sheltering oak trees cradling a little brown house with white shutters and a shiny black door. It looked like a pleasant place to live.

The note that Grandmother had left for him said that it was her favorite painting and that for some reason it always made her think of him. She said to hang it in an out of the way place that needed a window. Billy liked the painting and missed his grandmother, so he decided to hang it in his bedroom instead of somewhere out of the way.

Billy hung it on his wall and kneeled backwards on a chair while he looked at it more closely. There was a little girl looking out the window, and a lady with a yellow dress and bright red apron was out in the garden, mostly hidden behind a rose bush. Billy took a picture of the painting with his phone.

That evening, after school, he checked his painting again. The little girl was sitting on the steps and there was a puppy sitting on the path. That wasn’t right! He pulled out his phone and checked the picture. Wasn’t there supposed to be a lady in the garden?   And wasn’t the girl inside? He was certain he didn’t remember a puppy.

He found the picture on his phone. He couldn’t see the girl or the woman in the picture.   Just the house and the garden and trees.

“Mom!” he yelled. “Come look at this.”

She came in a few minutes later, her finger in her book to mark her page. “What is it, Billy?’

“I think the people in my painting are moving,” Billy said. “Look!”

“All right, where are they?” She asked. She bent closer to look. “Billy, I don’t see any people.”

“What? They were right there,” Billy said. But, when he looked at the painting, he didn’t see anyone either. The people had moved again.

He kept checking the painting. Sometimes he’d see the little girl, or the lady, or a man, or the puppy, but they never showed up on his phone when he took a picture.   They were never there when his mom came in either.

One day he decided to catch them moving. He sat in front of the painting where the man was weeding the garden and just watched him. The man was gone when Billy blinked.

The next morning, there was a sign in the yard of the little house. It said, “Stop spying on us!” Billy took a picture. He checked his camera, but the sign wasn’t in the image. When he looked back at the painting, the sign wasn’t there either.

Billy found his mother in the kitchen writing a letter.   “Mom, the people in the painting don’t like me watching them,” Billy said.

“Do you think they’d like the guest room better?” his mother asked.

“As long as we don’t go look at them too often, I guess,” Billy said.

They moved the painting. Billy still checked on it sometimes, just to see how the family was doing. They didn’t seem to mind that.   After a while, he forgot about the painting.

He grew up and started dating a woman that seemed familiar the first day he met her. They got married and bought a house that looked just like his grandmother’s painting. He brought the painting home from his parents’ house and hung it in the living room.

His wife was amazed. “It looks just like our house! That’s eerie.”

“I know, isn’t it?” Billy said. He didn’t mention the people. He didn’t see them again, either.

It was after his daughter was three that he was certain that it wasn’t all a coincidence. She looked too much like the girl from the painting. He bought her a puppy the next year for her birthday.   A month later, he was out in the garden weeding and felt like someone was watching him. He couldn’t see anyone. It was time.

He put a sign out in the front yard that night.   His wife saw it in the morning.   “Honey, what’s that all about?” She asked. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Yes, I was just answering one of those questions I had as a child. I’ll bring it in now,” Billy said. Life had come full circle. He never did find out how the painting had allowed him to look into his future, but he was grateful for it all the same.

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The Story of Winter Square

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Once there was a lawyer named Winter Square. He was a very good lawyer and tried to be the fairest in all the land when mediating disputes. He had a great success rate for settling out of court.

One day, he had an appointment after lunch with a group of brothers. When they trooped into his office, the first thing that he noticed was that they were all very, very tall. And then he noticed that he didn’t have enough chairs. “How many of you are there?” he asked.

“Seven,” said the one with glasses.

“Four more chairs, please,” Winter said to his assistant.   Soon every one was seated. “Let’s start with introductions. I am Winter Square.”

The one with glasses stood up again. “I am Red, and these are my brothers Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, and Purple.” Each brother stood in turn and shook hands with Winter.

“I know they’re unusual names,” Green said.

“Mom really liked adjectives. She named her parakeets crazy things like Shy and Dozy and Grumpy,” Purple said.

“My name isn’t exactly normal, either,” Winter said.   The brothers laughed. “So, what’s the problem?” he asked.

“One day we came home from a busy day at our jewelry design business,” Red began.

“Here’s our card,” Yellow said. Red cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

“As I was saying, we got home, and there was a strange man in our house, washing our dishes,” Red said.

“That wasn’t the first time,” Green said.   “The first time he was sleeping on the couch.”

“No, he was cleaning the microwave,” Blue said.

“In any case,” Red said, “the man keeps coming back.   We changed our locks, but he came in anyway. When we called the police to take him away, we found out that he somehow got the charges dismissed and the officer let him go.”

“I see,” Winter Square said. “This is rather unusual. Does he do any damage? Is anything missing?”

“No,” Orange said.

“Has he said why he keeps coming back?” Winter asked.

“He said he’s hiding from his evil step-daughter who is home for the summer,” Red said.

“And why your house?” Winter asked.

“Our apartment was the first one he saw when he stepped out of the elevator,” Purple said. “He looks normal, really normal and boring, but I think he might be crazy.”

“Do you have a phone number or address where I can reach him?” Winter asked.

“We don’t even know his name,” Blue said.

“Well, the next time he comes, call me,” Winter said.

Three days later, Winter Square left his office to visit the apartment of the seven giants. The strange intruder was there. Winter had the paperwork for a restraining order in his briefcase, but hoped he wouldn’t have to use it.

The man was sitting at the table playing Solitaire.   “So what’s your name?” Winter asked.

He waited. “Gray,” the man finally said.

“So, Mr. Gray,” Winter said. “I’m sure you realize how unsettling it would be to find an uninvited stranger in your home. I understand that you don’t feel safe in your own home. Perhaps we can help you find some assistance.”

“My wife is a queen among women, but my step-daughter is evil. Would you let me stay if I pay rent?” Mr. Gray said. “I feel so safe snuggled into the giant furniture. It would only be on my days off during the summer.” His eyes looked wide behind his glasses.

Everyone looked at each other for a moment. “Well, if he paid rent,” Green said.

“He does help with the chores,” Orange said.

“I guess I’ve gotten used to him,” Purple said.

There was a pause. “Are we all agreed then?” Red asked. The brothers nodded.

“We’ll protect you from your evil step-daughter until you can return to live with your queenly wife and live happily ever after,” Indigo said.

“Until the step-daughter returns next summer,” Yellow said. Everyone looked at him. “Sorry.”

“Mr. Square, please help us write up a contract,” Red said.

A short time later, Winter Square left the apartment, agreement in hand. He had successfully mediated another conflict. He smiled at his reflection in the elevator door. “You’ve still got it,” he said.

“Winter Square, you are the fairest in all the land,” the reflection replied. Creepy. Winter Square decided to take the stairs.
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Charlie’s Room: The Closet Door

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When they first moved into their little house, Charlie’s room was missing the closet door. “We don’t need a closet door,” Marianne said. “He’ll just pinch his fingers.   Leave it be.”

But Isaac liked to finish things, and so that unfinished closet door bothered him, just a little. Not all the time or even all that often, but sometimes he’d look into Charlie’s room and see straight into his closet, and then he’d think that maybe they did need a closet door after all.

One rather nice Saturday, Charlie was invited to a birthday party. “It’s at a pizza place,” he said. “With games. So I need to bring lots and lots of quarters for the games.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take him,” Marianne said.   “I want to talk to Joey’s mom about a playdate next week, and she’ll be there.”

The party would take hours, and Isaac was home alone again. He decided to go on a walk.   It seemed to be yard sale season, and every so often Isaac would come across a table full of books or baby clothes, or a row of kitchen chairs.

Two blocks away, on the corner, someone had left a closet door at the curb with a sign taped to it that said, “free.” It was just the right size for Charlie’s room.   Isaac picked it up and carried it home, with several stops to readjust his necessarily awkward handholds. At least it was lightweight.

It didn’t take long to prop it on the wall next to Charlie’s closet. Luckily it still had its hinges, and he somehow happened to have the right size screws in his toolbox. Were those from when he took apart the crib or from the cabinet remodel? It didn’t really matter.

He plugged in his power drill and got to work. He used chairs and a shelf of books to hold the door in place and zip, ziiiiiiiiiip-zip, it was done. He swung the door open and closed a few times, admiring his work.

On its seventh swing open, he noticed that something was odd inside the closet. There was a strange shadow behind Charlie’s neat row of shirts and coats and superhero dress-ups. Isaac pushed his hand through to see if the wall felt damp. He really didn’t want to try to deal with plumbing issues ever, if he could help it.

Nothing was there. There was no dampness and no wall. He pushed his entire arm through the hanging curtain of clothes and there was nothing there. He pushed his way through with both hands and the clothes brushed along the sides of his arms and face for an absurdly long time.

And then he realized he was pushing through pine tree branches. “Aren’t I too old to go to Narnia?” he thought. But he felt a little giddy. He’d always sort of hoped he’d find his way to Narnia, even now that he was grown up.   “I just need to be very careful who I talk to, and it will all be fine,” he told himself.

He kept pushing forward, hoping for a glimpse of a lamp post, but it felt like he’d been walking for hours through the forest, and he hadn’t seen anything out of place. Just when he was considering turning around, he smelled something peculiar.   Gingerbread? He walked a little more quickly. Licorice? Mint? He entered a clearing, and there at its center was a little house, covered in candy.

“Nope, I know this story,” he thought. He turned around and began to push his way home.   He hadn’t gone too far when giant chicken legs barred his path. He looked up to see a ramshackle hut perched on top of the legs.

“I know this story too.” He darted around the legs and started to run. He burst through the closet and tripped over his drill.   Ouch. He sat up stiffly. “That was not Narnia,” he said out loud. He allowed himself to feel sad for a moment. Then he picked up the drill and took down the door. There was no weird shadow at the back of the closet.   He patted it to be certain. All solid.

He put away the chairs and books and screws and drill.   Then he reattached the note to the closet door and carried it back two blocks to the corner where he found it.   When he got home, Marianne and Isaac were pulling into the driveway. “Did you have a nice walk?” she asked.

“It was okay,” Isaac said.

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No Smoking Here, Either

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“Hey Bob, do you have an extra cigarette?” Tom asked. He smiled, looking hopeful.

Bob snorted. “You’re kidding, right? I had to pass a three page calculus test for these, and then I found out they raised the price again. No, these are gold. Get your own.”

Tom scowled and leaned against the dirty alley wall. “I tried. I got a test in ancient Greek. I failed of course. Now I have to wait two days to try buying another pack.”

Bob exhaled and Tom leaned in closer. “It may be time to quit,” Bob said.

Tom sighed. “I looked into getting some like black market, from out of the country, but those are really chancy. And terribly expensive.”

“Yeah, I heard a guy died the other day from some poison in the paper or something,” Bob said. He exhaled again, eyes closed.

“This is so stupid. Why did I even start?” Tom looked towards the entrance to the alley. “I’m going to go back to work smelling like garbage again.”

“Well, you know how it is. They made it look so cool in the movies,” Bob finished his cigarette with a sigh.   “Now people act like you’re an ax murderer if they hear you’re a smoker.”

“It’s just not worth it. Maybe I’ll start eating oreos instead or something.” Tom straightened up and ran shaking hands down his face.

“They tax those too,” Bob said.

“But there aren’t any math tests. Or ancient Greek,” Tom said. He laughed, but didn’t sound amused. “At least not yet.”

“Just think of the money we’ll save,” Bob said.

“So, if you’re quitting now, you wouldn’t mind giving me a cigarette, for old time’s sake, right?” Tom said.   “Since you won’t need them anymore.   In fact, I’d take the whole pack off your hands.”

Bob sighed. “Hey, listen. Pay me double what I paid for this pack and they’re yours.”

“Really?” Tom looked delighted. He fumbled his wallet out of his back pocket in a rush. “That’s really decent of you.”

“Yeah, well good luck with them. I’m not really doing you a favor, you know?” Bob said. He took the money and handed over the pack. He waved and left the alley.

Tom ripped open the pack in his haste for a smoke. It was full of pixie stix. He stumbled back into the wall. “Bob?” he said. He looked up and then ran to the mouth of the alley and looked both ways. Bob was gone.

Tom didn’t know where he worked or what his last name was. He’d just been delighted a week ago when someone was here, smoking too. It was so rare to meet other smokers anymore.

But he’d really been smoking. He had! So where were the cigarettes? How could he do this to a fellow smoker? They stuck together, united against the people trying to keep them down, didn’t they? Tom felt like his last illusions were shattered. Smokers weren’t all really cool after all. Mostly, he just felt stupid. He dropped the pack in the trash and shuffled out of the alley.

He’d make an appointment to talk with his doctor. He was finally done with cigarettes. Oreos were still cool, though. He could even eat them at his desk.   He’d pick some up on his way home.   And some milk. That was cool too and they went well together. His hands shook, just a little.

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