The Sunny Side of the House

By Michael D. Harrison

Sometimes you need to suspend your disbelief while reading so you can enjoy the story within. This is one of those short stories.

It builds upon the original e-book by author Michael D. Harrison "Leaving Nora's Garden." Which was more aggressive and had scary sections. However, in this story an old man works at the side of his house, in a shed, building guitars as a way to pass the time. His service dog watches him daily and soon we find out they communicate as well as old friends do who care for each other. And they talk. Of course nobody knows about that aspect of their relationship. Over time other animals come into the story and of course, they can talk to each other. Just assume that it is a thing that happens; don't fight it, because its a story.

The important aspect of the story is the warmth of their friendships, the respect with which they relate to each other and the pleasant nature of their time together. The intention is to create a somewhat magic experience for the young person you are reading this story to, whether at bedtime or just together in the afternoon.

The dialogue is consistent with human interaction, but do not make the assumption a child won't understand. It may hit a couple notes where you have to explain to a very young listener, but that's the fun in reading to grandchildren of a certain age, I think. There is no crude material nor cursing in this book.

There is some education about the life cycle of animals, written in a gentle rolling forward of time. Some accurate nature descriptions. Please enjoy your time participating in this story and share it with your grandchildren.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael D. Harrison
• Release date: Apr 9, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005188900

Michael D. Harrison

Michael D. Harrison retired after 33 years in the Transportation Industry with UPS. He had published several poems in the MUSE at Riverside Community College in the mid-1990s. He began writing fiction in 2010. His favorite genre is Literary Fiction. The book "Sifting the Sands"is his first adult themed story, having mature content and was published in 2012. The 2013 children's story, "Leaving Nora's Garden", is his first children's themed story written in a format enjoyable to adults as well as children. In 2022 he has published another family children and adult read aloud story, "The Sunny Side of the House." Currently Michael is publishing only in electronic format.

Book preview

The Sunny Side of the House

(by Michael D. Harrison)

Published by Michael D. Harrison at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2022 Michael D. Harrison

Discover other titles by Michael D. Harrison:

Leaving Nora’s Garden 2013

Sifting The Sands 2012

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Smashwords Edition

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Table Of Contents

Hemingway

Welcoming The Mouse

A Drop In The Bucket

Sleep Talking

Axle

Friends

The Hunters

Hallelujah!

The Race

The Next Day

Mouse In The Mirror

Tethered

Trouble In The Water

Campers

The Passage

Landing On The Ground

Hemingway

Hemingway chose his own name. That was a big deal for an animal like him.

He made a home in the little shed at the side of the old man’s house. The shed attracted him because every time the old man opened the door for his day’s work the wood smells mixed into the air outside.

Exotic wood smells; and the milder scent of Redwood and Sitka Spruce. Hemingway especially loved when the ginger scent of sanded Port Orford Cedar combined with the spice of fresh cut Peruvian Walnut. But the odors were not the only thing that drew him to the small building.

He heard the voices of two occupants, Lou and Axle. They did not seem to notice him while they talked. On and on, and on. Hemingway reasoned that if they did not notice him, there was room to spare. Presumptuous, yes, but he did not need much for comfort; a field mouse never does. And he knew enough to stay out of the way.

Lou, Hemingway learned after a while, was simply a voice that came from the little box on the shelf near the old man’s head. The man would reach to his left, flick a knob and Lou would speak in a reassuring tone. Deep, sonorous, freight train ruminating. It was the same string of sound every time. Islands in The Stream, by Ernest Hemingway, and so forth the voice continued.

As the field mouse became accustomed and his understanding of the man’s language grew, the mouse relaxed and became a little careless about staying hidden. Sometimes he fell asleep in the maple cabinet beneath the work bench, only awakening as the shed door shut behind the old man, creating a startling silence as deep as darkness.

One pleasant Autumn afternoon the man tired of sanding a guitar soundboard made from Port Orford Cedar. He sighed to help himself change the pace of activity. The old man cleared a little space in the center of the work bench as preparation for the next morning. The soles of his shoes swished as he turned around. Stepping out the open door he avoided Axle, who was lying in front of the door and without looking back he tapped the door shut with a kick of his foot.

Axle, would you move please? he said. I’m going to trip over you.

Axle muttered something beneath his breath.

Hemingway could not make it out. And anyway, he was already focused on the mess the old man had left on the work bench.

What are you complaining about, I said please? the man said to Axle.

You stepped on my tail, said Axle as he jostled to get through the side door of the garage ahead of the old man.

Their voices became murmurs and then they were gone.

Hemingway knew there were other ways to get out of the shed so being locked behind the door did not concern him. The walls of the shed were still vibrating as Hemingway crept to the center of the work desk where the bent sides of the guitar body formed a small enclosure. Being careful to sniff without touching the wood, his whiskers twitched from the ripe essence of the unfinished wood. He was entranced as he inhaled and the spice odor filled his lungs and, then, he held his breath until he was dizzy. His beady eyes moistened in the darkness. It was a perfect pleasure.

At that moment the old man yanked the shed door open, tripping because he forgot to lift his foot over the step again, maintaining a control of sorts he lunged forward and stayed upright. Hemingway froze in the beam of the old man’s flashlight, he was trapped within the four-inch-high walls of the guitar body, and with surprising accuracy the old man dropped a Tupperware cake lid over Hemingway.

Hemingway did what any trapped mouse would do. He ran in circles, bumping and bouncing into the sides again and again. One last hard run and he ran out of breath and fainted.

When Hemingway awoke, he was immediately embarrassed. Near him were several tiny mouse droppings. Definitely his.

Oh my gosh, he thought, I’ve gone and soiled myself. And the man’s table.

As he got to his feet, he noticed a miniature collar around his neck secured him by a string to a nail in