The Kallerbay Stories 22-25
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 the final four Kallerbay stories. To go back to the first Kallerbay stories, and follow along in sequence, click here.
Story 22
Getting into the Band
by
Pete Rogers
Hi! I’m Peter Rogers but everyone calls me Pete and now it’s my turn to tell a story. I hope lots of people read it because I’ve never told a story before. It’s about when I got into the band.
My sister Ellen is 16 and she plays in the KBB, that’s what we all call the Kallerbay Band. It’s a great band. There are about twenty people in it and I’m the youngest which is nice because I’m like the mascot of the group. We play drums and trumpets and horns and flutes and other instruments that I don’t even remember. I play the side flute. I got my first flute from my aunt when I was only five. She showed me how to assemble it and how to clean it and look after it properly. It has a fantastic soft sound and it’s great when we do parades because it’s very light! Some of the members carry heavy drums and sometimes they end up with black bruises on their legs, especially if we’re marching on an uneven surface or if it’s raining or there’s a strong wind blowing.
We’re like a Marching Band but we’re what they call a Scatter Band because we don’t just do marching and parades. We can do shows and street performances and when we’re marching we can break ranks and do different designs and even do our own individual performances. The band leader carries a microphone and calls out the name of the player who would be doing some solo medley. Some day he’ll solemnly announce: “Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr Peter Rogers.” And all the public will cheer and clap and I’ll do my solo piece and everybody will be thrilled with the sound. But that’s a long way off…
Before I got into the band I used to love following the musicians around or watching them practice in the town hall or outdoors if the weather was good. I used to get my friends to make up a mock band and we’d walk along the beach banging pot lids and shaking plastic bottles with sand in them or cola cans filled with pebbles. We made such noise that we were told the only place we could play was on the beach! Little by little they all got tired of following me around and I knew it was time to try out the real deal.
I did a few auditions. The first time was a disaster. I couldn’t get my breath and I started to cry and I just wanted to run home but the leader was very understanding and he fixed an appointment for the following week. He explained about how to relax and do breathing techniques and all that. So I practiced everything he told me. I went around the house making drum noises and bass noises and piano sounds and Dad helped me out and the next time it went much better so they gave me three pieces to prepare and the third time I auditioned it was a completely different story. I enjoyed it and I told the leader that I’d like a bit more time because I just knew I wasn’t good enough and then, one Saturday morning, I played in front of the whole band and they clapped and the leader said:
“Let’s welcome Peter to the band. He deserves his place.”
I was just so happy and I was very proud of myself. They had to have a uniform specially made for me because I was so small. I’ve grown a lot since. I play football so that has helped me quite a bit. We have an important engagement next Saturday at the start of a football championship match. I’m looking forward to that.
The funniest thing was the other day I saw Jack Johnson’s little sister Flo on the beach and she was singing and holding a stick in her hand and you could see she felt as if she was on stage. I wanted to tell her to keep practising and not to give up but I decided not to. She’d probably have said I was acting all grown-up.
I know that a time will come when I’ll tire of the band and I’ll want to play solo or maybe in an orchestra but that’s all a long way off. For now, I just love being in the KBB. It’s just something special.
The next story is by Waldon Scott. His parents are famous musicians. I’d love to meet them sometime but they always seem to be very busy. I think Waldon misses them but he pretends he doesn’t. Bye!
Story 23
The Station Master
by
Waldon Scott
Hi! My name’s Waldon. My father is Wayne Scott. Have you heard about him? He’s a famous singer and my mother sings with him. Her name is Lydia and I have a little sister Lia who’s four. My parents are away a lot and we have a lot of people who look after us and our house.
Hanging around the train station is my favourite pastime but I don’t get to do it very often because the station is a long way from where I live. Sometimes I run in after school and wait. I love to stand near the track and listen to the screeching brakes just as the train is coming in. Nat Norris and I sometimes go a long way down the line while the train is still coming in fairly fast and the air catches us. One day I laid down just beside the track and it was really scary when the iron wheels raced by. I didn’t do that again. I think I screamed but nobody heard me above the noise. Nat didn’t suggest doing it again either so I think he was as frightened as me.
Libby Tomkinson always wants to be with me and Nat. She’s a bit strange. My mum says she’s a bit of a tomboy and she doesn’t like me to invite her home. I think she’s cool because she isn’t afraid of anything and when she’s around I’m not afraid either. She has a dog and so does Nat and they often take them out for walks. I don’t have a dog because they mess up everywhere and you have to walk them every day. My dad isn’t always at home so he said:
“if you want a dog, you’ll have to look after him.”
So I said, maybe next year.
One day, Libby came to the station with us. When we walked in there were a lot of people rushing around. Then suddenly who came over to us but Mr Gilford, the station master.
“Hello,” he said. “Are you waiting for someone or are you going somewhere?”
“I’m waiting for my granny.” This wasn’t true, of course.
“The train will be here in about 15 minutes,” he said and walked away.
We wandered into the waiting room and sat down.
“I have an idea,” said Libby. “When the train stops, let’s get on at one end and run right through and jump off when we hear the whistle.”
I wasn’t sure I liked this idea, but Nat said:
“Cool.”
So I said “OK.”
The train pulled in. People were getting off and people were getting on and we looked at each other and Libby said:
“Go.”
I darted between the people and hoisted myself up and started pushing my way through. Libby and Nat were in front of me. Then I had to go into the next carriage and I looked down and I could see the track. I went into the next carriage and the next but the others were already well ahead of me.
Suddenly, the whistle blew and I went to the door but there was a very big, fat man pushing a huge suitcase on to the train. I couldn’t pass. I raced down the carriage to the next door but it was already closing. I looked out and there was Nat on the platform shouting at the station master and pointing at me. Libby was beside him and instead of being worried she was grinning at me and clapping her hands. I hated her. The station master pushed the emergency button and blew his whistle again and the door made a hissing noise and opened.
I got off and walked towards them. The station master said:
“So you’re young Scott, right?”
“Yes, sir”. I said.
“I think you should all go home now and I’ll see you tomorrow at school. Make sure you’re all there.”
We walked off and we didn’t speak to each other for a few minutes.
“We won’t tell our parents, ok?” Libby said.
I didn’t mind because my parents were away and wouldn’t be back for five nights.
Next day, we were at school and Mr Clarke called the three of us into his office. There was the station master standing near the window and wearing his uniform and hat.
“So, I’d like you to tell Mr Clarke what happened yesterday at the station.”
We looked at each other but no one said anything. Libby had her daring expression on and I was afraid to say anything.
“Libby and Waldon, can you go back to your classroom,” said Mr Clarke. We left the room.
Ten minutes later Nat came into the classroom and told Miss Emerson that Libby had to go to the office. She glared at him and walked out. Then it was my turn. The door was closed and I had to knock. I wanted to cry and run away. When I went into the room they were sitting waiting for me.
“Now can you start from the beginning and tell us why you got stuck on the train,” said Mr Clarke. His voice was very stern. I didn’t know what the others had told him and I couldn’t think of an excuse. I told him that it was Libby who’d suggested it and that we’d never done it before.
“How did you feel when you were stuck on the train,” asked the station master.
“I was scared,” I said.
“You were right to be scared. Do you know where the next stop is?”
“No, sir.”
“Did you have money to buy a ticket?”
“No, sir.”
“Did you have your phone with you?”
No, sir.”
“So I think you’d have been in a right mess.”
“Yes, sir.”
“This time we won’t call in your parents but I advise you to stay away from the station unless you are travelling with an adult.” Mr Clarke said as he stood up.
I nodded and left the room. I wanted to go home. I wanted to see my mum. Then I saw Mr Bill, the janitor and he called me over.
“You in trouble young man?”
I pressed my lips tight together and nodded.
“Listen, I saw you down by the train tracks the other day. I don’t think that’s a very smart game you were playing. You could get hurt.”
He put his hand on my shoulder and shook it.
“We’d hate to see anything happen to any of our kids but there are a lot of you and you have to watch out for yourselves and for each other too.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“Off you go,” he said, “and don’t let that Libby lady tell you what to do. Use your own head and trouble won’t come looking for you.”
I went into class and there was a strange silence. Miss Emerson was walking around checking tests.
“Waldon, you, Libby and Nat will have to stay in during break and catch up.”
I sat down and I put my hands under my legs so that no one could see they were trembling.
That’s the end of my story. It wasn’t all that interesting but I’m glad I told it.
The next one is by Artie Baker. Bye now!
Story 24
The Cell Phone
by
Artie Baker
Hi! I’m Artie. I’m not sure if my story will be in the project.
Sometimes my Dad takes me with him when he has to do a short run. He’s a taxi driver and his name is Steven but everyone calls him Steve. I think Mum tells him to take me, especially when it’s raining, and I can’t play outside or, maybe, when we can’t go to The Workshop because Mr Hunter is sick or something. The Workshop is my favourite place in all Kallerbay.
Anyway, I love going with Dad ‘cos he plays cool music in the car and he sometimes picks up the strangest passengers. He calls them fares. Last Saturday I went to the train station with Dad and the first fare was an old woman. She had lots of bags. Dad asked me to wait on the platform for the next train with a sign that read Mr Blake while he took the woman to her destination. He returned and I had already met Mr Blake and after that, we went on a few more rounds. One was quite a distance away. On our way home I jumped in the back and said to Dad:
“I’m going to have a nap.”
He said; “I’ll turn off the radio,”
I said “No.”
So I was in the back seat and was just making myself comfy when I felt something under my head. It was a cell phone. Not a very modern one, so I knew it wasn’t Dad’s.
“Whose is this phone, Dad,” I asked. It was dead so nothing came up when I pressed the buttons.
“I’ve no idea,” said Dad. He pulled over and scouted around in the glove compartment and found a charger. Just like Dad to have a charger handy!
“Do you know how many people ask if they can charge their cells on their way here and there?” he said.
When the cell switched on, we looked at the numbers and Dad said:
“Wayne Scott. I know him. I brought that elderly lady to his house this morning.”
“I know him, too,” I said. “He’s Waldon Scott’s Dad.”
“You don’t sound as if you like him very much.”
“He’s O,.” I said. I didn’t feel like talking about him.
“Let’s go and deliver this phone. Wait until you see the house!”
I was undecided. I didn’t want to see Waldon Scott. He’s just such a baby even though he’s six months older than me. But I was really curious to get inside those big iron gates outside the Scotts’ huge house on the hill. He would never invite anyone in. He said security or something was strict.
Waldon’s parents are singers and they travel a lot so I reckoned the lady was his Gran because he told us at school that, when his parents are away, his Gran minds him and his little sister Lia.
We buzzed the intercom and Dad explained about the phone. The gates slowly opened and he got back into the car and drove up the driveway. There were tall trees on both sides and lots of flowers and statues of animals. Then we saw the house. It was amazing. Pillars and arches and big windows. We rang the doorbell and the door was opened by a man who was like a ship’s captain in a film.
“Yes?” the man said.
Before we could speak, Waldon raced down the stairs.
“Who is it, James?” he shouted.
“The taxi-driver…”
Waldon saw me and I saw him and we both just stared. He was dressed in a blue and white sailor boy outfit and he even had a sailor hat on. Then his sister Lia appeared and she, too, was dressed as a sailor girl.
“I’m the butler here,” said the man.
My Dad handed him the phone and explained that he had found it in the taxi.
“Mrs Philips will be very relieved,” said the butler. “Waldon, do you want to give it to your Gran?”
“Here I am, Captain. I’ll take it.”
It was the lady passenger we’d met at the station. She, too, was dressed in her sailor outfit.
“Hello,” she said. “You must know Waldon.”
“Yes,” I said. “We go to school together. Hi Waldon!”
“Hi, Archie!”
“We’re having a little party this evening to celebrate my arrival. We always have a theme, don’t we, Lia. Would you like to join us, Archie?”
My Dad was very quick with an excuse. “I’m afraid not this time. We have to go and visit Archie’s granddad and we’d better be moving. But thanks for the invitation.”
Waldon was still staring at me and I knew he was threatening me. He was afraid I’d tell everyone about the sailor suit.
“Bye, Waldon,” I said. “See you Monday. Keep that suit handy. Pete’s dad is going to take us out on his boat next week.”
“ Who’s Pete?” asked his Gran.
“A friend at school,” Waldon said turning and walking towards the stairs. “Bye Archie.”
As the big gates closed behind us, I started to laugh and Dad was trying hard not to laugh too.
“I must get you one of those suits,” he said.
“Yeah, and two big ones for you and Mum.”
“Not forgetting Yvonne and Loris.”
“Dad, we’re not going to visit Granddad, are we?”
“I wish we could son. Wish we could.”
“He’s not well, is he?”
“I’m afraid not.”
We drove home and I thought about Waldon. I was kind of afraid of him because he could make Libby and Nat do horrible things to some of the kids. So I’d keep the secret of the sailor suit to myself.
“What’s Waldon like at school?” Dad asked. It was as if he could read my mind.
“He’s ok,” I said.
Dad patted me on the knee and said: “If he ever gets too big for his boots you stand your ground, do you hear me? And if you can’t manage him just let me know.”
“Ok Dad, thanks.”
I gave him a high five and we turned in our gate and jumped out. Loris was crawling around the kitchen and Dad scooped her up and started to sing I’m Popeye the sailor-man.
“So, did you have a nice day?” Mum asked as we were sitting down to dinner.
“Yeah, it was good, really good. Wasn’t it Dad?”
“Aye, aye, Skipper,” said Dad. “ A really good day.”
The next story is by Zoe Hill. She’s 10 and she’s nice.
Story 25
When Dad Went to the Circus
by
Zoe Hill
Hi! I’m Zoe. When I grow up I want to be a vet like my dad. Did you know that there are vets for large animals and vets for small animals? Dad works mostly with big animals like horses and cows. I think I’ll be a vet for cats and dogs and small pets. Dad said we could be a team. That would be so cool!
Sometimes I go out with him on calls. but if there are weird things like horses giving birth he doesn’t take me. He said he would when I’m bigger. I used to go out more but something happened last year. My Mum died, and I haven’t been able to go out a lot since ‘cos I try to help Dad look after Zoe and George. We have a home-help lady called Lisbeth and when she’s at home I feel a bit better.
Last Saturday we were having our lunch and dad said he had to go to the circus that had come to a town near us. The boss of the circus had called him. They needed a hand because the circus vet had a fever and one of the elephants had a bad cut on his belly. Dad always says animals should not be kept in cages and small spaces. He doesn’t like the circus and neither do we.
Lisbeth was doing the cleaning that day and I asked dad if I could go. He said ok but he wasn’t sure if I could go near the elephant.
“You might have to wait in the car,” he said.
“I don’t mind,” I said, “I’ll listen to music.”
“Can I come too, Daddy? Please, please, please!” it was Katy in her baby voice.
“Not this time, sweetheart,” he said and tussled her hair.
She ran out the door.
We drove off and I put on my earphones. I didn’t feel like talking but Dad took one of the plugs out of my ear and said:
“How’s school going?”
“Fine,” I said.
“You still miss Mum a lot, don’t you?”
“Sometimes.” That’s why I always listen to music. I hate that question.
“Me too,” he said.
I didn’t say anything because I know he has a new girlfriend so I don’t think he misses her that much.
We got to the circus field and dad opened the boot of the car to get his medical bag. Who did he see crouched under the back seat but Katy. She was smiling at him.
“What on earth are you doing there?” he said.
“I really, really, really wanted to come.”
The circus man came over and introduced himself. They spoke for a while and then he said:
“Know what, I’ll get my Zac to show you girls around while your dad makes Gwen better.”
He made a phone call and after a few minutes, this boy came running over. He was just a bit bigger than me. We said ‘ hi’. Katy was already asking him a million questions.
“Let’s go,” he said.
He took us to the big tent and there were lots of people inside doing exercises. Some of them were way up near the top and they were swinging and catching each other. One man was cycling on a tiny bicycle.
“He’s a clown,” said Zac.
“Where’s his clown nose?” asked Katy.
“He’ll wear it this evening for the real show.”
The clown came over and said hello. Then he caught Katy and tossed her up on the trampoline and she started to bounce like crazy.
“Want to try?” he said to me but I shook my head.
When dad finished up and we were all leaving, the circus owner asked him if we wanted tickets for the show. Dad said no, but thanks all the same. I was a bit disappointed.
On our way home, Katy told dad everything we’d seen and then he said:
“Did you have a good time, Zoe?”
I wanted to say it was great but I just said it was ok.
“I have to go out and check the elephant again on Wednesday evening if anybody would like to come. Or maybe I’ll just bring George this time.”
“We’ll all come together,” I said, without thinking.
“Yeah!” shouted Katy.
“We’ll do that,” said Dad, “and maybe this time I’ll accept those tickets for next week’s show.”
“Yeah!”
This time I was shouting even louder than Katy and we gave each other a high five.
I’m looking forward to going to the circus.
So, now it’s my task to say that this is the last story in our project. Miss Emerson thanks all the pupils who wrote stories. It was fun. Bye, everybody!
The End
This concludes the series of stories from Kallerbay. We hope you enjoyed them! If so, please tell your friends about it. If they want to enjoy these stories, you can send anyone the link to the start at https://www.shortkidstories.com/story/the-kallerbay-stories/
Many thanks to author Frances Fahy for kindly sharing them on Short Kid Stories!
- Total nr. of readings: 550 Copyright © The author [2020] 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...
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