The Kallerbay Stories 19-21
By Frances Fahy
Kallerbay was conceived as a short story project for 6 – 11 year-olds, written in a first-person child-related style and the “storytellers” are a class of 25 children in this age bracket. In an uncomplicated environment, we follow the adventures of 25 schoolboys and girls in the fictional seaside town of Kallerbay where life is adventurous and often exciting. Under the guidance of their teacher, Miss Emerson, each pupil tells a story about family, friends, neighbours, joys and fears. The country location is not mentioned. It’s an anglophile Fantasy Land. It’s where the child wants it to be!
This page contains three more Kallerbay stories. New stories will be posted as time goes on and linked from the preceding stories. Depending on when you read this, you may find those links already there or not. To go back to the first Kallerbay stories, and follow along in sequence, click here.
by Stan Loman
Hi! I’m Stan Loman from Kallerbay. Before I start my story, I’d like to tell you a bit about my family. My brother Dave is 16 and my sister Emma is 13. I’m the baby! Dave and Emma are just fantastic. We always have such fun together. My dad is a teacher. His name is Gary. If I have any problems, he’s always there to give me a hand. He teaches the older kids in the school. My mum doesn’t teach, she works in the bank. Her name is Trish. My teacher is Mr Clarke. He and Ms Emerson do a lot of work together at school, and he’s helping her with the story-telling project.
When Mr Clarke asked us to tell a story about Kallerbay, I thought I’d do a scary story. Mr Clarke said that was ok as long as it wasn’t too frightening. You see, I’m a specialist in scary stuff. I’m in a wheelchair because I had an accident when I was little and I can’t walk. My wheelchair is cool, and dad has put all sorts of gadgets on it. He made a harness too so that he can strap me on to him and we can walk together. He’s super strong, and it’s fantastic when we do that. We even manage to run a few steps sometimes, but that’s a bit tiring. I always do exercises with Dave, and I go swimming, or better floating about and flapping my arms like mad. I’m quite strong. Emma loves swimming too. Swimming in the pool is ok, but the best thing of all is swimming in the sea. I can’t go in when it’s rough, but that’s ok.
As I said, I had thought of telling some kind of spooky story, but I’ve changed my mind. Maybe next time. So I’m going to tell you about when I referee table-tennis matches. Some people call it ping-pong and others get offended if you call it that but I don’t want to get involved in the arguments about the name of the game, so I’m going for table-tennis. And another thing, some people say umpire and some say referee. Whichever you like. I love umpiring, and that’s what I’d really love to do when I grow up. Being in a wheelchair makes no difference so, if I’m really good, I’ll be able to umpire at big matches, like world championships and even at the Olympic Games. That’s my dream! We have four tables in the Workshop, and that’s where I learned how to referee matches. You know the way people are when there’s someone around who can’t play. They give you a whistle, and they say “you referee”. I play sometimes, but I prefer refereeing. Our house is well organised so I can get to the Workshop on my own and most days to school as well. If it’s raining, dad takes me in the car.
I was refereeing a match one day, and two boys were playing. I didn’t know them. They were from two different clubs. They were quite good, and there was very little between them. While they were playing, one of them kept on repeating something, and it started to annoy me. Every time he scored, he went: “That’s one for the road!” The first time he said it, I politely said “quiet” as the rules say we should do. But, by the fourth time he said “That’s one for the road!”, I was beginning to lose my cool. Then he won the set and shouted the same old phrase in his opponent’s face, and I lost it. I had a spare bat in my hand, and I just threw it at him and hit him right in the nose.
I couldn’t believe what I’d done. His nose was pumping blood, and people rushed over. His mother was right behind him, and she came over and spun my chair around and slapped me across the face.
“How dare you, you brat,” she screamed and then ran over to her boy. I just sat there, stunned. My brother Dave was in the hall, and he went over to them, handed the boy his bat and said:
“That’s one for the road. Don’t ever set foot in this hall again.”
Mr Lee, our sports instructor, was doing something else when all this happened and he came over and saw the finger marks on my face. He just said: “Are you ok?” and I gave him the thumbs up. He blew the whistle and announced the next set of matches, and he asked me if I was able to go on refereeing. I said I was but that I preferred not to for that evening because I really felt I’d over-reacted and it was better if I got the same treatment as anyone else who did something as serious as I’d done.
When I told my dad he just said:
“Next time make the no-speaking rule before you start the game and make sure the players obey it, or they might end up with an actual broken nose, and you might end up being barred from ever umpiring again.”
I just couldn’t let that happen. Seriously!
The next story is by Omar Bild. He’s one of my best friends. Bye!
by Omar Bild
Hi! My name’s Omar Bild. All these stories that everyone is telling and I can’t even think of one. Even my little sister Megan is better than me. The teacher said the other day:
“Omar, I’m looking forward to your story.” But I know she meant:
“Omar is your story ready?”
So I’ve finally decided I’m going to tell you something about me.
One of my nicest memories of when I was very little was my dad reading me bedtime stories. Funny how I remember Dad telling stories and not Mum. I suppose she was busy looking after Megan and then she has a travel agency and she’s always busy there too. Dad is a postman, so I suppose he has more free time.
What made Dad’s stories special was that they were nearly always about mythology. Mythology is stories about people who lived long, long ago and their customs and beliefs. So the stories that Dad told me were myths. He always acted out the myths, and I could imagine the dragons and the monsters and the gods and they were always fighting some enemy or other. Now I read my own stories, and I still love these old tales, and I hope to remember them so that one day I can tell them to my own children.
In Mum’s agency, there are Mythology Tours to Egypt and Greece and so many other places, and they are very popular because people want to see the old temples and the statues and all that. I told Mum that, by the time I finish school, I’ll know enough about mythology to organise my own tours. We’ll call them The Bild Tours and expand Mum’s business! Who knows! she said
Myths are not true stories because no one knows if any of them ever happened. They are just ways of passing on the things that people believed about the world. The thing about all the different kinds of myths is what they have in common. They are all about the power that nature has over us. There are four elements in nature: earth, water, air and fire and people everywhere fear them because they can’t control them. Like floods, tidal waves, storms, earthquakes. So what did they do long ago? They called them gods, and they gave them offerings and sacrifices and built monuments and temples in their honour so that they would be good to them. Then, when people moved from one land to another, they brought their stories and their beliefs with them. That’s why nearly all the gods from Greek mythology turn up in Roman mythology with different names. Zeus, the most important god for the Greeks, is called Jupiter by the Romans and Poseidon, the Greek god of the sea, is called Neptune by the Romans. By the way, Zeus was the only god who could throw lightning bolts. So, I’ll tell you a myth, and it’s about Zeus.
Once up a time, there were two brothers, Epimetheus and Prometheus. They were gods, not humans. One day, Prometheus got in trouble with Zeus. Zeus was angry with the humans and had declared that they didn’t deserve fire and had told all the gods not to give it to them. Prometheus had a kind heart, and he knew that man needed fire for food and warmth, so he went against the orders and gave man the secret of fire. Zeus was furious that his order had been ignored. As punishment, he chained Prometheus to a rock for years and years, and from then on, only Zeus could distribute fire.
With Prometheus chained to the rock, Zeus went after Epimetheus and planned a sneaky punishment. First, he ordered his servant Hephaestus to make him a daughter. Hephaestus made a beautiful woman out of clay. He brought her to life and then brought her to Zeus, who called his lovely new daughter Pandora.
Zeus knew that Epimetheus was lonely and he pretended to do him a favour and told him he could marry Pandora. Epimetheus was suspicious of Zeus, but he loved Pandora at first sight. Zeus gave the newlyweds a gift. Some say it was a jar. Some say it was a box. Whatever it was, it was locked.
And there was a note that said: “DO NOT OPEN.” Attached to the note was a key.
Pandora was very curious, and one day her curiosity got the better of her. She unlocked the box and as she raised the lid, out flew all the things that Zeus had put inside. Bad things like envy, sickness, hate, disease. Pandora slammed the lid closed, but it was too late.
Epimetheus heard her crying, and he ran to her. Pandora opened the lid to show him it was empty. Out flew one last tiny bug that hadn’t managed to get out the first time. He flew away to make his way in the world. That tiny bug’s name was Hope. So Zeus wasn’t all bad after all. And Hope made all the difference in the world. As they say, where there’s life, there’s hope!
I hope you liked my story, and thank you for reading it. The next one is by Uma Greenwood. She’s just a little one. I think she’s coming seven. Bye!
A day in the park
by Uma Greenwood
My name is Uma Greenwood. I’m six and a half. I live in Kallerbay. I’m recording this. I like stories about magic. So does my friend Iris. The best magic story is Aladdin and the Lamp because he could make people’s wishes come true. My mum often tells me bedtime stories. I sleep in my own room, but sometimes I have bad dreams and I wake up and I try to go back to sleep and I can’t so I call Mummy, and she says “Come on in.” So I go into the big bed, and I go back to sleep straight away. I love sleeping in between Mummy and Daddy, but now she has a baby in her tummy, and she says she’s afraid I’ll kick him so if I go in I sleep on the edge. Just in case.
I’m not going to tell a magic story this time. Instead, I’ll tell one about a day in the park. It was really nice. Mr Lee organised it. He told all the kids to bring an old rug or an old blanket. My dad came because he’s a carpenter and he always helps out on the days out if he’s not too busy. He brought hammers and nails and everything. Mr Lee brought a big pile of high stakes to put down. The bigger boys wanted to hammer in the stakes, but it wasn’t easy, and they got tired after a few minutes. While they were doing that we all put our rugs on the ground and we played games.
Then Mr Lee gave us an assignment. We had to find three things in the park that began with the five vowels of the alphabet, you know A, E, I O, U. It wasn’t easy. We made five teams and said we’d report back to where there were making the tent after ten minutes. I was on the A-team. We found an acorn and an ash leaf, but we couldn’t find anything else. Tom was in my team, and he had an apple in his rucksack, and we brought the three things to Mr Lee. He said: “Uhmm!” in a strange way, and he looked at us and said:
“There probably is an apple tree in the park, but apples don’t grow with the sticker on them, so this doesn’t count.”
We were disqualified. I think the Is won, but I can’t remember what they found. One thing was an ivy leaf. While we were doing all that the big people nailed all the rugs on to the stakes and they made a huge tent. It was a funny shape and really colourful.
I was waiting and waiting for Iris, but she didn’t come. Then her sister Rosemary came and said that Iris had to stay home because she fell off her bike and hurt her two knees. After a while, Winnie Rivers came on her bike. She’s a tour guide at the castle. She’s very funny. She had paints, and she asked if we wanted to have our faces painted. We all got in line, and she did it really quickly. While she was painting our faces, she told some funny stories.
Then the band arrived, and they came under the tent and played some cool music. But they didn’t all fit because they were too tall, so they stayed outside. Pete Rogers is in the band. He’s the smallest, but he’s really good. When he passed by, we cheered and called his name, and we all danced and sang along. It was lovely under the tent because we felt so snug and happy. We had snacks and drinks as well.
My story is short because I can’t remember anything else about that day except that when we were going home, dad suggested that maybe we should go and see how Iris was so I said ok. We brought her some ice-cream, but she didn’t feel like it, so her mum put it in the fridge. We stayed, and I thought that maybe we could watch a cartoon, but Iris wasn’t in the mood to do anything because her knees were bandaged and she didn’t want to get off the couch. I wanted to tell her about the day, but she said she was tired. So dad said we had to get home to mummy. I was glad he said that.
That’s the end of my story about our day in the park, and the next story is by Pete Rogers. Bye!
We continue next time with stories 22-25 in the final instalment of The Kallerbay Stories.
- Total nr. of readings: 150 Copyright © The author  All Rights Reserved. This story may not be reproduced without the express written permission of the author except for personal use.
Enjoyed that? Then you might like these...
‘Twas the night before Christmas
The famous poem by Clement Clarke Moore about one Christmas eve and the arrival of you-know-who down the chimney.
A teacher runs a story competition to see who will become editor of the class monthly newsletter.
The Foxy Howl
No Brahmin – the farmer is the priest for a ritual – but fox’s howl is a must
No More Peanut Butter in the Jelly Jar
A young boy struggles to do things like his big brother does.
The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
L. Frank Baum's classic about a girl from Kansas transported to the land of Oz is a must-read for all children. Although this is in fact a short novel of about 40,000 words, one chapter a night (on average about 10 minutes each) makes for perfect bedtime reading!