TheHummingbirdGardenStorybyStuartBaumIllustrationsbyGryffon

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Maliksighedaheavysigh.Histeacherhadassignedhimhomework:finishingastorythatwasalreadyhalfwritten.Theteachergaveeveryonetwostories,bothofwhichwerehalfwritten,andthechildrenhadtofinishoneofthem.Thefirststorywasabouttwotreesinthewoodstalkingtoeachother.Itwassimplytoodullforwords.Athinraspyvoicenearhim,said,“Interestingwaytoputit.”Maliklookedaroundhisroom.Notmuchtolookat.Abed.Abureauwiththedrawersopenandclotheshangingout.Abookshelfwithtoysandbooksandotherstuff.Adesk,wherehewassittingnowwithapencil,apadofpaper,andaglassofwater.Acircularrugonthefloor.Andonatableinthecornertherewasasmallplant,halfbrownandhalfgreen.Nothingcouldhavesaidanything,thoughtMalik.Itmustjustbemyimagination.Thesamesmall,raspyvoicesaid,“That’sgoodtoknow.”“What’sgoodtoknow?”Malikaskedtheunseenvoice.“Thatyouhaveanimagination,”wasthereply.Malikshruggedandstartedreadingtheotherhalf-finishedstory.Thishalfstorywasaboutabluebottleonashelfthathadsomethingsmallinsideit.Youweresupposedtoguessatwhattheobjectwasandwritetherestofthestory.Probablyjustapenny,thoughtMalik.Suddenlytherewasarattlingsound.Chi-chink,chinkita-chink.

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Maliklookedaroundathissameplainroom.Thesamebed.Thesamebureau.Thesameplantonatableinthecorner…Wasitclosernow?Thesameshelveswiththesamebooksandgamesand…Wasthatbluebottlealwaysthere?Thethin,raspyvoicesaid,“No.It’snew.”And,again,therattlingsound.Chi-chinkita,chinka-chink.Malikpinchedhimself.No,Iamnotdreaming.Goodthing,hethought,IhavetofinishthisstorybeforeIgotobed.Hewonderedwhichstoryhewouldtackle.Thedulltreestalkingone.Treesdon’ttalk.Andiftheydidwhatwouldtheysay?Theraspyvoice,verysoftly,butsomehowevencloser,said,“Maybethattheyarereallythirsty.”Orthebluebottlewithsomethinginsideit.Whocaresaboutsomedumbpenny?Therattlewasloudernow.Cha-chink.Cha-chink!Cha-CHINK!Soundsmorelikeaquarter,thoughtMalik.Suddenly,Malikrealizedthattheroomwasansweringhisthoughts.Thetalkingplant,therattlingbluebottlewithsomethinginside.Helookedrightattheplant.Nowthathereallylookedatit,maybeforthefirsttimeever,herealizeditwasmorelikeasmalltreethanaplant.Anditlookedlikeitneededwater.“Whatwouldyousayifyoucouldtalk?”heaskedthesmalltree.

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Thethin,parchedvoice,whichseemedtocomefromnowhere,said,“FirstIwouldaskforadrink.”“Andthen?”promptedMalik.“FirstIwouldaskforadrink,”repeatedthetree.Easyenough,thoughtMalik.Hegrabbedtheglassofwaterfromhisdeskandpoureditintothetree’sdirt.Thevoicewasstillthin,butnowlessdryandraspy.“Thankyou.”Lessdryandraspy,thoughtMalik,butbeforehecouldaskifthetreewantedmorewater,thetreesaid,“Thatwasplenty,thanks.Ittakessometimeforthewatertogettomyleaves.”Thebluebottlerattledagain.Chi-chinkita,chinka-chink.“Maybeyoushouldlook,”suggestedtheplant.Malikbegantosighoutofhabit,butrealizedhewasnotbored.Hewasactuallycurioustolearnwhatwasinsidethisnewbluebottle.“Ihopeit'snotapenny,”hesaidaloud.“AsdoI,”saidthetree.SoMalikpickedupthesurprisinglyheavybluebottle,tippeditoverandshooktheobjectintohishand.Itwasasmallbrowncoin…apenny.Disappointing,thoughtMalik.“Lookmoreclosely,”proddedthetinytree,whichwasnowmoregreenthanbrownandhadperkedupabit.

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Malikwenttoputthebluebottledown,butthenrealizedhewasnolongerholdingthebluebottle.Ithaddisappeared.Rightfromhishand!Helookedaround,butthebluebottlewasnowheretobeseen.That’sodd,thoughtMalik.Thetreesaid,“Notasoddassomeotherthings.”Maliklookedcloselyatthepennyinhishand,butitwasn’tapenny.Itwasatoken.Atokenthatread“ADMIT ONE”andsomethingelsecoveredingrime.Hewethisfingerandrubbedthepennytoread:“First Street Hummingbird Garden.”“What’sa‘hummingbirdgarden?”heaskedaloud,lookingatthesmalltree,whichbynowhadcompletelyregaineditsgreencoloring.Itevenlookedabittaller,moretree-like.Thetreeasked,“Whatdoyouthinkitis?”

Theboyanswered,“Iguesslikeabutterflygarden,anenclosedareayoucanbewithbutterflies,butforhummingbirds.”Thetreeexclaimed,“Wouldn’tthatbelovely!”And,suddenly–pop,pop,pop–threetinywhiteflowersappearedonthetree.Malikstaredatthecoin.“AdmitOne,”hereadaloud.“Thishummingbirdgardenmusthaveexistedatonetime.”Hecontinuedtoread:“FirstStreet.Theschoolison38thstreetsoIbetthere’saFirstStreetinthistown.”Heplacedthecoinonhisdesk.

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“Don’tgoanywhere,”hesaidtothetree.“IhavetogoaskmyDadaboutthis.”Malikranfromtheroom.Hereturnedexcited,talkingataveryfast,breathlesspace.“MyDadsaidthatFirstStreetusedtobeagiantamusementparkwithridesandparks.Hewasjustaboywhentheycloseditdown,andhedoesn’trememberahummingbirdgarden,andnowit’sabrokendownareawithemptylotsandpilesofgarbage,buthealsosaidwhatyousaid,‘Wouldn’tthatbelovely!’and-”Malikstoppedsuddenly.Thelittletreewasbackinthecorner,morebrownthangreen.Ithadnowhiteflowers.Anditsdirtwasbonedry.Inapanic,helookedathisdeskwhereheputthecoinand…itwasstillthere!ADMIT ONE. First Street Hummingbird Garden. Hesighedahappysighandpickeduphispen.Hestillhadtocompletetheassignment,sohewantedtowritethisalldown,quickly,beforeheforgot.Eventhoughnoneofithadreallyhappened.Orhadit?Hewrote:

The first story was about two trees in the woods talking to each other. It was simply too dull for words. Thenhestoppedsuddenly.Beforehewroteanotherword,hehadtodosomething.Hehadtowaterhissmall,thirstytree.NotYetTheEnd

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Twodayslater,theteacherwasreturningtheassignmentsandsaid,“Asyouknow,thesewerenotgradedandeveryonewhoturneditindidagreatjob,butIwanttosaysomethingaboutMalik’sstory.”TheotherchildrenlookedatMalikand,sadlytoMalik,manyexpectedhewasintrouble.Oneasked,“Didhedosomethingwrong?”Theteacherlaughed.“Well,yesandno.WeweresupposedtopickonestorytofinishandMalikkindoffinishedthembothtogether.And…”hesmiledatMalik,“…it’sreallyquitewonderful.”StillNotYetTheEnd

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Twentyyearslater,MalikCallaway,nowallgrownup,walkeduptothetickettakeratthebrandnewFirstStreetHummingbirdGarden.HehaddecidedtorebuildtheamusementparkonFirstStreet,completewiththeridesandparksand,ofcourse,thehummingbirdgarden.Hefilleditwithsmalltreeswithwhiteflowers,justliketheoneinhisroomwhilehewasgrowingup.TheyoungmanattheticketcounteraskedhimforhisticketandMaliksmiled.Hereachedintohispocketandpulledoutanoldbrowncoinandhandedittotheman.Themansaid,“Sorry,sir,butweonlyacceptticketshere,notcoinsortokens.”Maliklaughed.Hesaidtothetickettaker,“Ithinkyouwillseethatthiscoinwillworkjustfine.”

TheEndFormorestories,writingactivities(verymuchliketheonesMalikandhisteacherused)andreadinglists,pleasevisit:https://www.StuartStories.comToviewmoreillustrationsbyGryffon,visit:https://www.instagram.com/wildwood.arts/