Summer Bird Stories

Family-Friendly Short Stories, Cartoons, and Illustrations

Career Counseling

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Mr. Marsh looked up when he heard someone knock on his open door. It looked like the next student had arrived for career counseling.   “Come in,” he said. He checked his schedule. “John?”

“That’s right,” the teenager said. He sat at the edge of his chair with a big smile. Good, that probably meant he had some idea of what he wanted to do after school.

“So,” Mr. Marsh said.   “Have you given any thought what you’d like to do after next year?” He opened the folder at the top of the pile. “Your grades are good enough to get you into a nice university.”

“No, I think I want to go find the unicorns and live there with them. Like that lady did with the gorillas,” John said. He looked entirely sincere.

Mr. Marsh waited for the moment when his expression would change and he’d shout ‘just kidding.’   It didn’t happen and the silence was beginning to feel awkward. “Um, John,” Mr. Marsh said. “Unicorns aren’t real.”

“That’s what they want you to think. Just like the dinosaurs.” John smiled.

Mr. Marsh tapped on his planner with his pen. “Dinosaurs were real. They just all died out,” he said.

“You believe that comet theory?” John raised an eyebrow. “That’s ridiculous. A single comet took out all the dinosaurs?”

“Well, it blocked out the sun and changed the climate, and…”

“And didn’t kill the plants? Or the sharks?” John chuckled.

Mr. Marsh frowned.   “Well, it killed some of the plants.   And sharks are sharks. In any case, they’re all gone and unicorns don’t exist.”

John shrugged.   “Believe what you will.”

“Even if you believe in unicorns, you don’t know where they are. How can living with them be a valid career plan?”

“Finding them will be part of my career, of course,” John said.

“And how do you plan on financing your expeditions?” Mr. Marsh asked. He clicked the end of his pen and prepared to take notes. If John was serious about this, he’d do his best to advise him. Even if he was fairly certain there was a hidden camera somewhere.

“Sponsorships, of course,” John said.

Mr. Marsh sighed.   “How do you plan on attracting sponsors?”

“It shouldn’t be too hard. Everyone likes unicorns.   Of course, the sponsors will have to realize that the unicorns may not agree with me sharing any of my findings.   They are probably hiding for a good reason.” John pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket.

Mr. Marsh leaned forward as John held the paper up. It looked like a list of names written in different handwritings.   “What’s that?”

“My classmates petitioned me to accept sponsors. It’s why I’m considering it even though I don’t think I’ll ever be able to share my research findings.” John folded the list up and put it back in his pocket.

“Then what was your original plan?” Mr. Marsh asked.

“Leprechaun gold.” John smiled. “It will probably be my main source of income. However, I do understand the need people have to be a part of major scientific endeavors. So, I will accept all offers of funding, as long as there are no strings attached.”

Mr. Marsh dropped his pen and leaned back. He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “John, you do know that there aren’t really any leprechauns, right?”

John rolled his eyes. “That’s what they want you to think.”

“Right. Right.   Like the dinosaurs.” Mr. Marsh took another deep breath.

John smiled.   “Exactly.”

“And how do you plan on obtaining this gold?” Mr. Marsh asked. He picked up his pen.

“Oh the usual way.   Follow a rainbow, trick a leprechaun.   You know.” John shrugged.

Mr. Marsh nodded and took notes. “All right.   Well, I see a lot of time hiking and camping in your future. And a lot of time spent outdoors in the rain. What do you think you need to do to prepare for that?”

John pulled out another piece of paper from a different pocket. He smoothed it out. “Well, I’ve written a supply list. Tell me what you think.”

Mr. Marsh held out a hand and John handed him the paper. He looked over the list. “And where do you plan on finding rope made out of elf hair?” he asked.

John shrugged.   “Oh, you know. Usual place. Go to a fairy circle, trick an elf.”

Mr. Marsh sighed.

Pieces of Sky

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Danny went on a walk with his dad after the storm. He was excited to go outside after being stuck inside all week while it rained.   Dad had the best ideas.

The ground was wet and made funny squishy sounds as they walked. Danny’s boot sank into a patch of mud. The mud pulled on his boot when he lifted his foot.

“Sticky mud,” Danny said. He wanted to take some home and use it to make his own stickers.   He reached down to pick some up.

It wasn’t sticky. It was slimy. He smelled his fingers. They smelled like dirt. He tapped his fingers together. They didn’t stick. He wiped his fingers on his jeans.

“Did it smell funny?” Dad asked.

“Like dirt,” Danny said.

“That makes sense,” Dad said. “Mud is just dirt that got wet.”

They walked past the pine tree at the corner of the lawn. There were branches on the ground, and lots of pine needles. “Oh no,” Danny said, and pointed to the branches. “Tree broke.”

“I think the storm just gave it a haircut,” Dad said.

“Tree hair?” Danny looked at the pine needles and giggled. Trees have green hair. That’s so silly. He picked up a branch and held it onto his head. He had green hair now too. “Me tree,” Danny said.

“Looks good, Danny,” Dad said.

Danny pretended the wind was blowing. He did a tree sort of dance. Then he decided to see how far he could throw the branch. It landed all the way into the bushes. Danny threw his arms up in the air and cheered.

“Good throw,” Dad said. “Oh look, you have some pine needles in your hair now. Let me get that.” Dad picked the pine needles out of Danny’s hair and dropped them into Danny’s hand.

Danny looked at the tree hair in his hand. He tipped it over and watched the needles drop on the ground like raindrops.   “Hair rain,” he said.

“Let’s keep walking, Danny,” Dad said. He held out a hand. Danny grabbed it and squeezed Dad’s fingers so tight. Daddy squeezed Danny’s hand back, just a little.

In the driveway, there were little pieces of sky that had fallen down during the storm. Danny pointed. “Oh no,” he said.

“It’s just puddles,” Dad said. “That’s why you wore your boots.”

“Not puddles,” Danny said. “Sky fall.”

“It does look like pieces of sky, doesn’t it?” Dad said. “Don’t worry. Now that the sun is out, the pieces of sky will go back where they belong.   Why don’t you try jumping on them?”

Danny wasn’t so sure. He always had to stay away when glass broke. But Daddy said the sky pieces were why he wore the boots. The boots must be magic and would keep his feet safe.

Danny jumped into the sky pieces. They splashed like water. Maybe the sky was made from water and it just leaked all over. Were storms just times when the sky was leaking?

He looked up. Who fixed the sky when it leaked? It would have to be a giant. Then the sun came out and dried up the water, and the water went back into the sky.   Danny smiled. He loved learning new things.

He jumped into the sky pieces again. “Puddle?” he asked, pointing to another sky piece.

“That’s right, Danny,” Dad said. “Do you think if you ran a little bit before you jumped, you’d get a bigger splash?”

“Yes!” Danny said.   He backed up and got ready to jump.   Dad always had the best ideas.

A New Home

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“Drat,” the witch said. “I’ve been eaten out of house and home again. Perhaps it’s a bad idea to build my home out of candy and gingerbread. Even when I built my house in the middle of woods, children still found me and ate holes in my walls.”

“I still say you should have eaten them, see how they liked it,” her magic staff said.

“Oh hush,” the witch said. She paused and looked over her shoulder. She could just see the candy-shingled roof over the tree line.   “If I listened to you, their parents would hunt me down and hang me in the town square. You have absolutely no common sense.”

“Yes, and I have wood for brains. You’ve said all this before,” the staff said. “So, what now?” They both watched from the shadows as another noisy crowd of children rushed past them.

“Can’t we make our house out of something else?” the witch asked. She turned and watched as the roof suddenly tilted at an odd angle.

“I really think you should put that culinary degree to use. You defied your parents and ran away from home to get it.” The staff hummed. “Perhaps you could make your home out of vegetables?”

“Most vegetables aren’t sturdy enough, and all the local wildlife would come and eat holes in the walls. There’s lots more animals than children in the woods,” the witch said. The roof disappeared. She turned and adjusted the strap of her small bag. She started walking again.

“You could eat them, and their angry parents too,” the staff said.

“I’d still have holes in my walls,” the witch said.   “When I use all my magic on patching my walls, I don’t have any left for starting my magic mail-order pastry business.”   She pushed through some bushes and used her staff as a shield to avoid the thorns.

“Hey watch it. Use your magic. Here, let me.” The staff sent out a pulse of magic that parted the vines. “Maybe it’s a good thing that you haven’t had a chance to start your business yet.   We could go home and go back to magic school. I have so much potential.   I could be doing so much more with my life.”

“Maybe I’ll make my next house out of wood,” the witch said. “You’re using my magic when you do that, you know?”

“That was harsh. Really, really harsh. I would never suggest you build anything out of human flesh, you know,” the staff said.   “Besides, you started it when you used my sensitive wooden self as a shield without asking. I think you might have scratched my finish.”

“I’m sorry. How do you feel about rock as a building material?” the witch asked.

“Rock candy? It has a high sugar content and flavor is practically nonexistent, but it sparkles nicely. It’s a little too transparent for house building, though. Let’s leave it for windows,” the staff said.

“No, building a house out of stone,” the witch said.

“Inorganic matter isn’t something I’m good at,” the staff said. “Hey, where are we going?   I don’t recognize this place at all.   What if there are bears? Or worse, termites? Let’s go back to the city. You can start your business on weekends while you’re going to school.”

“They won’t let me use the ovens,” the witch said.   “Hey, is that a house?”

“What, here? Let me check it out before you get to close.” The staff said. The witch nodded. “Hmmm. Empty, stone, no roof. The well is dry, but I can fix that. No bears or termites. This looks good. Candy shingles?”

“How about straw? Then we can clean up and unshrink the furniture,” the witch said.   She set her bag down and pulled out a spell book.”

“Thatching? I suppose that would be all right. I think we could use the spell on page thirty.” The staff began to hum.

“Thanks,” the witch said. “Maybe I could finish my magic schooling by correspondence. I wouldn’t want you to waste your potential after all.”

The humming grew brighter, and happier. The witch began to wave the staff around in spirals and figure eights, and then she started chanting. Thus finally began the career of the witch of the deep woods bakery. And her magic staff.

The Princess Test

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“I don’t know,” the queen said. “She doesn’t look very royal.”

Prince Ferdinand looked up from his paperwork and rolled his eyes. “She was caught in a rainstorm.”

“I certainly don’t recognize her,” the queen said. “With how few monarchies there are left in the world, it’s certainly suspicious.”

“We’re related to all the royalty we know well, and most of them are a little crazy. It’s probably a point in her favor,” the prince said. “Besides, I told you that her name checks out. Her parents just never allowed their daughters to be photographed.”

“Well, I won’t allow a liar at my dinner table.   Until we can test her claims, we’ll serve her dinner in her rooms,” the queen said.

“Do you expect her to carry her birth certificate in her coat pockets?” the prince asked. “If she was fleeing a military coup, she probably didn’t have a chance to pack a bag.”

“I’m sure there’s some way to test her,” the queen said.   “I know! I’ll pile up a bunch of feather mattresses and put a dried pea at the bottom of the pile. If she feels it and doesn’t sleep well, she’s obviously of noble blood.”

“You mean if she’s unusually sensitive and is impolite enough to complain about it?” the prince asked.

“You say it like that’s a bad thing,” the queen said. “How would you test someone to see if they belong to the nobility?”

“I don’t know,” the prince said. “An etiquette test at a formal dinner? Filling out paperwork? Public speaking? Speaking politely to the media without really saying anything?”

“Done. If she can pass all those tests, she can have your hand in marriage,” the queen said.

“Isn’t that going a little fast? Perhaps we can grant her asylum while her country fixes its issues. Then we can go from there,” the prince said.

“But if she really is nobility and not related to us…” the queen said.

“She’s traumatized and doesn’t know what happened to the rest of her family. I think it may not be the best time.” Prince Ferdinand patted his mother’s shoulder.

She sighed. “You’re probably right. I’m still going to test her though.”

“I’m sure you will, mother,” the prince said. “Or you could ask my magic mirror.”

“That thing is a liar. It said that we won’t have another ball this year, and I’m planning one for midsummer,” the queen frowned.

“I gave you the expense account. You can only have your ball if you can find a way to independently fund it,” the prince said. He raised an eyebrow. “It’s not a bad thing to only host a ball every other year. People will appreciate them more.”

The queen huffed. “I’ll find a way. Wait and see. When I do, you need to toss that lying slab of glass down the well.” She paused. “No, throw it out the window. If we dropped it into our drinking water, I’m certain it would poison us.” She turned and stalked out.

A face appeared in the mirror hung to the left of the desk. “The girl is a noble,” the mirror said. “Her family is looking for her and will arrive in about a week to bring her home. A servant heard the alarm and sent her out the back gate, but the army never made it to the family quarters. The palace guards defeated them.”

“All right,” Prince Ferdinand said. “We’ll do our best to care for her while we wait.   Oh, and don’t worry, I won’t let mother throw you out the window.”

“I know,” the mirror said.

The girl was invited to dinner, where the queen carefully watched which forks she used. Throughout the next week, the queen asked for help with various tasks, such as filling out paperwork, addressing the royal decorations committee, and speaking to a reporter from the local newspaper. The girl was polite and performed all the tasks well.

“I think she may be the one,” the queen said to Ferdinand at the end of the week.

A face appeared in the mirror. “She’s already engaged and her fiancé will arrive with her parents tomorrow to take her back home,” the mirror said.

“I hate you,” the queen said to the mirror. She stalked out of the room. Prince Ferdinand laughed and went back to his paperwork.

 

Charlie’s Room: The Novel

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“I can’t believe it’s still so cold,” Marianne said. “It will make Charlie’s field trip to the zoo a little miserable.”

“They did schedule it in March,” Isaac said. “They should have expected it to be cold.”

“I imagine they got a good deal on tickets or something.”   Marianne sighed. “Now we’ll all freeze.”

“You didn’t have to volunteer to chaperone,” Isaac said.

“Of course I did. You’re just jealous. You have a boring day ahead of you,” Marianne said.

“At least I’ll be warm,” Isaac said. “Besides, I’m meeting Cousin Reginald for lunch.”

Marianne made a face, and then laughed.  “I’ll take my day, cold and all.”

That evening, Charlie had lots to say about the zoo. The polar bears had been especially active, and Charlie was certain that a tiger had been stalking him. “And the birds came right up to us at lunch and took the food right out of our hands,” Charlie finished.

“They were pigeons,” Marianne said.

“Ah.” Isaac nodded.

“So, how’s Cousin Reginald?” Marianne asked.

“He’s invented face muffs and he’s trying to patent them,” Isaac said. “It looks like he has giant fluffy blue eyebrows and a big fluffy blue mustache.”

“That sounds cool,” Charlie said. “I’d wear that.”

“Great. He’s promised to make some for all of us,” Isaac said. Marianne groaned and Charlie cheered. “Unfortunately, we can’t have them until he has his patent.   He’s afraid of rival inventors.”

“Awww,” Charlie said.

Marianne nodded. “That makes sense.”

“While waiting to hear back, he wrote a novel. He insists that it will bring the world together and usher in world peace,” Isaac said. “He gave me a copy. I’ll go get it.” Isaac stood up.

“It’s published already?” Marianne asked. Isaac paused in the doorway. “Isn’t that pretty quick? He didn’t mention it before now.”

“He says that publishing companies are too mainstream.   He self-published,” Isaac said.

Marianne rolled her eyes. “Of course he did. He and his second adolescence.   He acts like anything normal is a bad thing. Go on then, go get it so we can see it.”

Isaac left and returned with a huge paperback book.   The cover was black with red writing that said World Peace. Isaac set it on the side table with a thump.

“That’s a big book,” Charlie said. “Do we have to read the whole thing?”

“We can at least read the first few pages,” Marianne said.   “It looks like he put a lot of effort into writing it. Besides, I’m curious to hear how a book can cause world peace. Why don’t you start reading, Isaac. We have some time before dinner is ready.”

“All right,” Isaac said. He started reading. The oven timer woke them up a half hour later.

“Did we all just fall asleep?” Charlie asked.

“I didn’t even read past the first page,” Isaac said.

They all looked at the book. It had fallen off Isaac’s lap and somehow landed on the floor face up.   “That is a dangerous book,” Marianne said.

“I like it,” Charlie said. “Read it to me the next time I have nightmares, Dad.”

Isaac laughed. “I’ll leave it on the bookshelf in your room.  Let’s have dinner, and then we can write Cousin Reginald a thank you note for his gift.”

A Scientific Breakthrough

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Ceolbeorht tightened the last part with his tentacles.   His invention was finally ready.   No one believed it was possible, but he had done it. He had created a surfacing suit.

When he was younger, he was fascinated with the higher, brighter waters. Older jellyfish told him that he was being foolish. “The food is worse and there are more predators. Stay deeper,” they said.

“But I can see that there is a whole world out there, filled with creatures stranger than we could imagine,” Ceolbeorht said.   “Some of them visit us. There must be a way to visit them.”

The elders would drift off, leaving Ceolbeorht to think. He trailed after the creatures from above, trying to examine their equipment. Unfortunately, they feared his poison sting and avoided him.

He came across a floating cave now resting on the ocean floor, abandoned by its owners. It was filled with technology that he was able to examine and adapt to his needs.   It took a long time, but he finished the prototype.

Now came the hard part, venturing above. He waited until it was dark above and the creatures were hiding for the night. Ceolbeorht hesitated before swimming the last distance.

“You don’t have to do this,” an elder said. He had agreed to accompany Ceolbeorht on this historic test flight.

“I trust my efforts. The surfacing suit will work,” Ceolbeorht said.

“And if there is an emergency, you’ll pull three times on the cord and I pull you back, right?” the elder asked.

“That’s right.”

Ceolbeorht swam forward at last. It grew more and more difficult as he pulled himself and the heavy suit out of the water. In the end, he couldn’t pull himself all the way out of the water on his own power.

Now that the water was shallower, he was caught in a powerful current that he couldn’t avoid by darting below. The water rose and fell, surging past him. It carried him forward a little, and then back. It was a little frightening. Sometimes he could touch the sand with his tentacles.

He thought about letting go. He could let the waves carry him the rest of the way to the edge of the surface. But at that point, could he return? His tentacles were not strong enough to carry him and his heavy suit forward any further.

He would have to make all the observations he could from here, and then fight his way back before his strength was gone. He began to look around. The surface was bigger than he’d imagined.

There was light coming from above. A big round elder glowed, surrounded by younger, smaller lights.   Was this yet another layer of the surface? Was there another layer above that? He began to wonder if there was a layer below them as well.

Perhaps, just as their communities stretched forward and back in time, always elders teaching the young, other communities surrounded them in all directions. Maybe there were more similarities than differences among those that moved.

Ceolbeorht glanced around. He saw plants and rocks and sand here, just like at home. He felt at peace. There were no mysteries here to discover, after all. He pulled on the cord sharply, three times. Then, he began to swim back against the current.

“Are you well?” The elder asked.

“Yes,” Ceolbeorht said.

“And what did you see?”

“That the surface is much like here, but it is not made for us.   Let’s go home,” Ceolbeorht said.