Five Stories Read online

  THIS IS A BORZOI BOOK PUBLISHED BY ALFRED A. KNOPF

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015 by Anna Alter

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Alfred A. Knopf, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House LLC, a Penguin Random House Company, New York.

  Knopf, Borzoi Books, and the colophon are registered trademarks of Random House LLC.

  Visit us on the Web! randomhousekids.com

  Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at RHTeachersLibrarians.com

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Alter, Anna. author, illustrator.

  Five stories / Anna Alter. — First edition.

  p. cm. — (Sprout Street neighbors; 1)

  Summary: Relates the adventures of the animal residents of an apartment building on Sprout Street.

  ISBN 978-0-385-75558-0 (trade) — ISBN 978-0-385-75559-7 (lib. bdg.) — ISBN 978-0-385-75561-0 (ebook)

  [1. Neighbors—Fiction. 2. Apartment houses—Fiction. 3. Animals—Fiction.]

  I. Title.

  PZ7.A4635Fi 2015

  [Fic]—dc23

  2014000543

  eBook ISBN 9780385755610

  The illustrations were created using pen and ink with acrylic.

  Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.

  v4.1

  a

  For my sweet Tilly

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Also by Anna Alter

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

    CHAPTER 1: The Acorn Problem

     CHAPTER 2: The Best Birthday

     CHAPTER 3: Fernando’s Wish

     CHAPTER 4: The Surprise

    CHAPTER 5: The Secret Garden

  Henry lay in bed under his favorite quilt. It was the first day of fall and his room was chilly. He gazed out the window and watched his neighbors at 24 Sprout Street sweeping the walkway, raking the leaves, and doing their other weekend chores.

  “What a waste of a Saturday morning,” he thought. Stretching, he burrowed deeper into his quilt. He closed his eyes and began to drift asleep. Without warning, a loud THUNK shook him awake.

  “What on earth could that be?” thought Henry. He pulled the covers over his nose. Then again, THUNK. “It’s rather early to be so nois—” THUNK.

  “Enough!” he grumbled, climbing out of bed and walking to the window. He saw nothing falling out of the sky that could make such a racket. Henry put on his robe and stomped outside and into the yard. He looked around. His next-door neighbor, Wilbur, was raking red, orange, and yellow leaves. His third-floor neighbor, Violet, sat on the stoop knitting. Next to her was a basket full of colorful winter hats.

  “Excuse me,” he said. “Have either of you heard a loud thunking noise this morning?”

  Wilbur stopped raking and looked up. “I don’t think so,” he said.

  “Me either,” chirped Violet.

  Henry sighed. He turned around to go back inside, but stopped in the doorway.

  “Why have you knit so many hats?” he asked Violet.

  “They’re all I know how to make,” she said, “and there is nothing more relaxing than knitting.”

  “Oh,” said Henry, stepping inside.

  Back in his apartment, it was nice and quiet again. Henry yawned. He took off his robe and climbed into bed. Outside his window, he could see the wind gently lifting the leaves on the trees. He thought about Violet and her rainbow of hats. His eyes closed for a moment.

  THUNK!

  “Too much!” he cried as he leapt out of bed. He quickly got dressed and flew up the stairwell. Surely his second-floor neighbor Emma would know what was going on.

  Henry stood in front of apartment 2A and raised his paw. But before he could knock on the door, the door knocked at him with a loud THUNK-A-DUNK-DUNK.

  “Emma?” he called out.

  “Come in!” Emma shouted from inside.

  Henry pushed against the door. It opened halfway, then got stuck. He pulled the door closed again, then gave it a big push. WHACK.

  Something was behind the door, and Henry had just hit it very hard. He squeezed through the doorway and his jaw dropped. Before him was the largest pile of acorns he had ever seen. And they were starting to move.

  First, the acorns at the bottom of the pile began to shake. Next, the acorns in the middle started to jump. Then the acorns at the top started bouncing like popcorn. They bounced around so much that they all began rolling down, one after the other. Before he knew it, the entire pile landed on top of him. THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK…

  “Mystery solved,” thought Henry from the bottom of the pile of acorns.

  “Henry!” cried Emma, reaching through the nuts to help him up. “Are you all right?”

  “Emma…,” he began. “Emma, I very much enjoy being your neighbor, but I must—”

  “Oh, me too,” she burst out. “You’re simply the best! I consider myself very lucky to be your neighbor. I really must have you over for lunch very soon.”

  “Yes,” said Henry, standing up. He took a deep breath to tell her why he had come, but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her how much noise she was making.

  Emma turned around and began stacking her acorns back into a pile. “I will invite you over just as soon as I finish moving things around,” she went on. “Wilbur brought me all these acorns from the yard, and I simply don’t have enough places to put them.”

  “Yes,” said Henry again. “I can see that.” Henry brushed off his pants and sighed. He wished her luck and returned downstairs.

  Henry tried to forget about the noise. He made some toast and opened a book of poetry. THUNK! His toast fell into his lap.

  He put on some music and got out his playing cards. THUNK! His cards went flying.

  He sat at his desk and tried to write a letter. THUNK! His pen scribbled straight off the page.

  It wasn’t working. Henry could not forget. So he put on his coat and went outside once more. Violet was still sitting on the stoop knitting. Her stack of hats was higher than it had been that morning.

  “Hi, Violet,” he said.

  “Hi, Henry,” Violet said. “Did you figure out what was making the thunking noise?”

  “Oh, it was nothing,” he said. “I’m going for a walk. See you later, Violet.”

  He left the porch and walked down Sprout Street. It was a clear day and the air smelled like cedar trees. Henry passed a garden full of yellow sunflowers and cheerful orange chrysanthemums. He gave a great yawn.

  “Hello, Henry!” shouted a voice from across the street. He looked up to see Fernando, who lived across the hall from Violet. Fernando was heading home with two large bags in his paws.

  “What are you up to?” called Henry.

  “Just a little shopping,” said Fernando. “I have a large loaf of bread and some good cheese in my bag. Care to join me for a bite to eat?”

  “Yes, please,” said Henry. With all the noise, he had forgotten to eat lunch.

  He took a bag from his friend and they walked to 24 Sprout Street. Fernando told Henry about the cabbage soup and roasted potatoes he planned to make for dinner.

  Henry suggested they sit under the oak tree in the yard. “It’s freshly raked and there are no acorns at all,” he pointed out.

  After a few minutes, Violet came over to join them with her basket o
f hats. They sat under the tree together, eating the bread and cheese and chatting. Now and then, Violet picked up her knitting and added a hat to her stack.

  Henry glanced up at Emma’s window. He could see her stuffing acorns in cupboards and under chairs. “I’m glad I’m not in my apartment,” he thought. “There’s got to be a lot of thunking going on.” He yawned again.

  “You seem tired,” said Fernando, placing a large piece of cheese on a thick slice of bread.

  “Yes,” said Violet. “Did the thunking noise wake you up this morning?”

  “To tell the truth, yes,” Henry sighed. “Emma has an apartment full of acorns and she’s dropping them all over the place. I missed my morning nap completely.”

  “What a shame,” said Violet.

  They all sat quietly for a moment. Violet looked up at Emma, moving about in her apartment. Then she looked down at her hats—and got an idea. “Henry,” she began, “do you think you might want to have some of my hats?”

  “Thank you, Violet,” said Henry, “but I’m not sure how that will help me get some sleep. Besides, my birthday isn’t until October.”

  “Well, I have more than I can use,” said Violet. “Perhaps you could give them to Emma.”

  After a bit of explaining and a lot of thanks, Henry returned to his apartment with a large stack of hats under his arm. He laid them on his bed and got out a box and some tissue paper. He put the hats in the box, wrapped them carefully, and tied a big bow around the outside. Then he went upstairs.

  When Henry reached the top of the stairs, he heard a loud CRACKITY THUNK-DUNK-DUNK. A large acorn rolled straight out of Emma’s front door and landed at his feet. He picked it up and went inside.

  “Emma,” Henry called out, “I have something for you!”

  “Thank you,” she said, “but I don’t need any more acorns.”

  “Not this,” he said, putting the acorn down and raising the box. “This!”

  “Oh,” Emma gasped, “but it’s not my birthday until December!”

  “I thought I would give you your present now,” said Henry.

  Emma dropped the three acorns she was carrying. THUNK! THUNK! THUNK! She picked up the box and tore open the package. “My,” she said, “what lovely hats!”

  “Violet made them,” said Henry, “but they’re not hats. They’re acorn holders. Here, I’ll show you.”

  Henry turned a hat upside down, picked up an acorn, and placed it inside. Then he tied the earflaps neatly to the back of a chair.

  “Genius!” shouted Emma. “How clever! I am so lucky to have you as a friend.”

  “Not at all,” said Henry, breathing a sigh of relief. “It is I who am lucky to have such wonderful friends.”

  Henry helped Emma put away her acorns, then went back downstairs and put on his pajamas. He had a long, peaceful afternoon nap and didn’t get out of bed until it was time for supper.

  Emma could hardly sit still. She tapped her fingers on the kitchen table and swung her legs back and forth. Outside, snowflakes piled up on her windowsill. Soon it would be her birthday. The thought bounced happily in her head like a game of jacks.

  She began pacing around the room, thinking of all the birthday parties she’d been to that year. At Fernando’s party, there had been a clown to make jokes and hand out candy. At Henry’s birthday, a magician did magic tricks and even pulled a rabbit out of a hat.

  “I’ll throw a party, too,” thought Emma. “I’ll invite everyone at 24 Sprout Street. It will be the best birthday ever!” She spun around and did a little happy-birthday-to-me dance.

  Then Emma got very still. She needed to do something big to impress her friends. Something VERY big. She put on her coat, grabbed her thinking cap, and went downstairs to the front stoop, her favorite thinking spot.

  Violet came through the door, carrying a shopping bag. “Good morning, Emma,” she said. “What is that you’re wearing on your head?”

  “This is my thinking cap,” said Emma.

  “What are you thinking about?” asked Violet.

  “Next week is my birthday and I want it to be the best birthday ever.”

  “Then I would have lots of balloons,” suggested Violet.

  “Yes!” cried Emma, jumping up and waving her thinking cap over her head. “The best birthday ever would surely have a lot of balloons! Thank you, Violet.”

  Emma shoved her thinking cap in her pocket and headed down Sprout Street toward Maple Street. She climbed the icy hill to Sergio’s Market, where she bought a balloon in every color. There was a bright red balloon the color of a summer tomato, an orange balloon as bright as a tangerine, and a magenta balloon the color of the bougainvillea in Wilbur’s garden.

  When she got home, Emma laid them all out on the table in her kitchen. They looked beautiful. She imagined them blown up, big and shiny, at her party.

  But then she began to worry. Maybe her friends wouldn’t like the balloons. They weren’t as special as a clown or a magician. She would have to think a lot harder if she wanted this to be the best birthday ever.

  So Emma put on her thinking cap again. This time, she sat in her sunroom, tapping her toes on the tile and watching the snow fall. “Think,” she said to herself.

  Rrrrr-ing! rang the phone.

  “Oh, hello, Wilbur. Yes, it is really coming down outside. Wilbur, can I ask you something?”

  “Of course,” said Wilbur on the other end.

  “What would you do to make a birthday the best birthday ever?”

  “Well…” He paused for a moment. “At my birthday party last year, we had a piñata. That was my best birthday ever.”

  Emma smiled from ear to ear, remembering Wilbur’s glittering, watermelon-shaped piñata swinging from the ceiling. She jumped out of her chair and threw her thinking cap into the air.

  “A piñata, of course! Thank you, Wilbur!”

  She hung up the phone and went back to Sergio’s. There were so many piñatas hanging from the ceiling, it was hard to decide which was the best. Then she spotted a tall giraffe with blue spots and a tail made out of sparkling streamers. “Perfect!” thought Emma.

  On the way home, the snow stopped and the sky began to clear. Emma went inside and put the piñata on the table, next to the balloons. The streamers sparkled in the sunlight. Surely the best birthday ever would have a piñata like this one. She leaned back to admire it.

  But then she started to worry again. “What if my friends don’t like the piñata?” she thought. “What if they’re tired of piñatas after Wilbur’s party?” Emma sighed. She would have to go back to square one.

  This time, she decided to go for a walk. She thought very hard. When she arrived at the bottom of the hill, she found herself in front of Sweetcakes, her favorite bakery.

  The window was covered in frost. Emma wiped away a small circle and looked through the glass. The bakers were lifting cakes out of their pans, filling them with vanilla custard, covering them with velvety-smooth icing. Her mouth watered. Then her eyes wandered to the end of the counter, where a baker was hard at work piping small, beautiful pink roses.

  Suddenly Emma got an idea. The biggest idea yet. “I know what will make my birthday the best ever,” she couldn’t help saying out loud.

  “I will make a glorious birthday cake! It will be the biggest, most beautiful birthday cake anyone has ever seen. There will be fifteen layers and icing in every color of the rainbow. And at the top, a shiny, perfect acorn made out of marzipan!”

  Emma ran back to Sprout Street and made invitations for all of her neighbors. When they were finished, she carried them to the corner outside and put them in the mailbox.

  She skipped back to her apartment and got to work in the kitchen. She mixed, she poured, she whipped, and she frosted. Each morning, she put on her apron and added something new. Her cake climbed taller and taller, and grew more stunning by the day. She filled it with peaches, blueberries, and chestnut cream. Sprinkles covered the cake like dew and glimmered in the
sunlight. Chocolate truffles lined the tiers. And on the top, the single perfect marzipan acorn sat like a queen on her throne.

  When Emma woke up on her birthday, she knew it was going to be the best birthday ever. She blew up the balloons and hung them around the windows. She tied the piñata to the chandelier and put out her big, beautiful, mile-high birthday cake for everyone to see.

  One by one, her friends began to arrive. Wilbur brought a holly branch from the yard. Henry brought a poem he had written just for her, and Violet brought a hand-sewn kerchief made out of fabric from Paris. Fernando brought chocolate chip cookies in a red polka-dot box, wrapped in satin ribbon. They all stopped to admire the cake, sitting tall and proud in the middle of the room.

  “Beautiful!” said Wilbur.

  “Incredible!” said Henry.

  “Absolutely perfect!” said Violet.

  Fernando, awestruck, couldn’t help reaching out for a little taste. Violet swooped in before he could get close enough and walked him to the punch bowl.

  Everyone gathered around the piñata. Violet picked up the wooden paddle. Emma tied a blindfold over her eyes and turned her in a circle. Violet stretched the paddle behind her, then swung it forward with all her might. There was a THUD and then a THUMP as the piñata hit the wall without breaking.

  Next, it was Henry’s turn. He swung the paddle, swoosh, through the air. He swung it so hard that he lost his balance and slid across the floor into a pile of balloons, POP POP POP. Wilbur chuckled and helped Henry up.