Call of the Cuckoo | Ep. 287

Think about the last time you felt angry.

It's normal for us to feel angry at times. And it helps if we can express our feelings in a safe and appropriate way, and do what we can to work through them.

In today’s story, we’ll hear what happens when anger is outlawed and frustration is forbidden. And boy oh boy, do the feathers fly!

Our story is called “Call of the Cuckoo.” You’ll find versions of this tale from many places, including the Asian countries of Armenia and Afghanistan, and the European nations of Denmark, Ireland and Italy.

Voices in this episode include Evan Casey, Susannah Mars, Stephen Hanna and Bret Shuford. Stephen and Bret are the real-life couple behind the website and podcast Broadway Husbands. This summer, they’ll release Husbands 2 Dads, a new podcast where Broadway meets bedtime stories, ballet meets baby bottles, and two former stage stars tackle fatherhood. You can also hear this dynamic duo in our episode, “The Little Blue Pebble”!

This episode was adapted for Circle Round by Rebecca Sheir. It was edited by Dean Russell. Original music and sound design is by Eric Shimelonis. Our artist is Sabina Hahn.

GROWN-UPS! PRINT THIS so everyone can color while listening. We’re also keeping an album so please share your picture on Facebook and Instagram, and tag it with #CircleRoundPodcast. To access all the coloring pages for past episodes click HERE. Our resident artist is Sabina Hahn and you can learn more about her HERE.

Now it’s your turn!

Next time you feel angry, what are some things you can do to manage your anger in a safe, healthy, and even fun way?

Find a grown-up and start brainstorming things you can do. Here are some ideas to get you started:

Remember: we all experience a variety of feelings, including anger. It’s what we do with those feelings that counts!

Musical Spotlight: Steel guitar

To play a traditional acoustic guitar (as Eric Shimelonis has done in many of our episodes, including “The Unjust Justice” and “One Speckled Hen”) you hold the instrument against your body and use your fingertips to press the strings against the frets as you strum. With the steel guitar, you play the instrument horizontally, and press and slide a polished steel bar against the strings as you pluck them.

The steel guitar was developed in the 1880s by Hawaiian teenager Joseph Kekuku’upena-kana’iaupunio kamehameha Apuakehau (who later shortened his name to Joseph Kekuku). Several stories have been told about his a-ha moment. In one, he laid a guitar across his lap and moved the back of a metal comb across the frets. In another story, he found a metal bolt on a railroad track, slid the metal along the strings of his guitar, and was intrigued by the sound! Either way, the original name was Kika Kila, which translates to “steel guitar.”

After Kekuku left Hawaii in 1905, he spent the next decades touring the U.S. mainland. By the 1920s and 1930s, his instrument was all the rage there. Mainlanders referred to it as the "Hawaiian guitar,” or – since it was held on the lap and played with a steel bar – as the “lap steel.”

While today the steel guitar is most closely associated with Hawaiian music, country music and bluegrass, some players have used it in rock, jazz, blues, and other musical genres. One band even uses it to play heavy metal! Eric Shimelonis most recently used it in our Circle Round episode, “Something Fishy.”

Story Transcript:

NARRATOR: It was an especially harsh winter and Balthazar and Barnaby weren’t sure how they would make it to spring. Their countryside cottage was leaky and drafty… their fields of potatoes were crusted over with ice… and their peace of mind was at an all-time low.

BARNABY: Balthazar! How will we survive this long, bleak winter? We’re down to our last bag of potatoes – and I’M down to my last straw of patience!

BALTHAZAR: I hear you, Barnaby. It’s so brutal out there, our chickens have stopped laying eggs! And our cow has stopped giving milk!

BARNABY: I’m surprised she isn’t giving milk-SHAKES at this point! (beat) Balthazar? What are we going to do?

BALTHAZAR: Well, Barnaby… we may not have much. But we’ve got each other! So how about this? You stay here, tend the cottage and animals, and I go out and find work? Soon as I make some money, I’ll send it right back home to you!

NARRATOR: The next morning, Balthazar and Barnaby shared a boiled potato and a goodbye embrace, then Balthazar set off down the road.

He crossed frozen rivers. He passed through forests twinkling with frost. He had just climbed to the top of a snowy hill when he halted in his tracks.

BALTHAZAR: (gasp!) Look there! In the valley below! There's a wide, sweeping farm… and the snow is melting! Even though spring is a ways away, the fields are turning green! (beat) Seems like the perfect place to ask for a job!

NARRATOR: Balthazar raced down the hill and knocked at the farmhouse door.

When he introduced himself and told the farmer he was looking for work, her face broke into a wide grin.

FARMER: Boy oh boy! I sure am glad you came along! I’ve been seeking some help here on the farm. So I’d like to hire you as a farmhand. I’ll give you five silver pieces a week, plus food and drink and a place to sleep. (beat) There are just two… conditions. Two requirements that go along with the job.

BALTHAZAR: Alright! Let’s hear the conditions!

FARMER: Well… the first condition is: you must work for me until the first cuckoo call of spring.

NARRATOR: Balthazar smiled to himself. Technically it was still winter, but with the balmy weather in this valley, working ‘til the first cuckoo call would be easy.

BALTHAZAR: Sounds reasonable to me, ma’am! What’s the second condition?

FARMER: The second condition is…you must never lose your temper.

NARRATOR: Balthazar cocked his head.

BALTHAZAR: I’m sorry. Did you just say, ‘I must never lose my temper’? That’s the second condition of the job?

FARMER: It is! While working for me, you must never blow your top! Flip your lid! Fly into a rage! Lose your temper, Balthazar, and I will pay you nothing. Instead, YOU will pay ME one-hundred gold pieces. However – (gets interrupted)

BALTHAZAR: But wait! I don’t have that kind of money!

FARMER: You didn’t let me finish! You see, there's more to this second condition of mine. Because if I lose MY temper… if I blow my top… flip my lid… then I will pay YOU one-hundred gold pieces! (beat) And let you go free!

NARRATOR: Balthazar considered the farmer’s bargain. He knew he was a hard worker and an easy-going person. He should be able to keep his temper. And besides, if the FARMER lost HER temper, then he and Barnaby would be rich!

So Balthazar agreed to the farmer’s conditions. She wrote up a contract to make it official, and Balthazar signed his name on the dotted line.

FARMER: Thank you very much, Balthazar! You’ll start work first thing tomorrow. Meet me in the meadow at the far end of my property at sunrise.

NARRATOR: After a hearty dinner and a good night’s sleep in the farmhouse, Balthazar met the farmer in the meadow. The first glimmers of daylight were just peeking out from the horizon, but he could see how overgrown the meadow was, with tangled grasses and weeds reaching well past his waist.

FARMER: Good morning, Balthazar! Clearly, this meadow hasn’t been cared for in some time. So your first job is to mow it and get it ready for planting. And promise me: you’ll keep mowing as long as there is light. Okay? 

BALTHAZAR: You’ve got it, boss!

NARRATOR: The farmer handed Balthazar a scythe: a long thin pole with a sharp, curved blade at the end. Then she bustled away and Balthazar got to work.

BALTHAZAR: (ad-lib efforting sounds) 

NARRATOR: He mowed all morning…

BALTHAZAR: (ad-lib efforting sounds) 

NARRATOR: He mowed all afternoon…

BALTHAZAR: (ad-lib efforting sounds)

NARRATOR: …and come evening… once the sun had set and the moon had risen… he trudged back to the farmhouse. When he entered the kitchen, the farmer stared at him as if he had sprouted an extra arm and head.

FARMER: Balthazar!!!! What are you doing here??? I told you to work as long as there was light! 

BALTHAZAR: Riiiight… That’s why I spent all day mowing! I worked all the way until the sun went down!

FARMER: Then apparently you misunderstood my directions! (beat) The sun DID go down… but look outside! The MOON is UP! See how brilliantly it shines in the sky? To say nothing of those glittering stars! (beat) MOONlight and STARlight count as light, too. So get back to work!

NARRATOR: Balthazar furrowed his brow.

BALTHAZAR: (frowning, moving toward anger) Look, boss. No disrespect, but I’m hungry. I’m tired. I’ve been working all day. Do you actually expect me to keep mowing without any – (gets interrupted)

FARMER: (relishing this; faux-shock) Balthazar!

NARRATOR: The farmer gave Balthazar a stunned look.

FARMER: Are you… losing your temper??? Because if you are, a penalty of one-hundred gold pieces is an awful lot to pay!

NARRATOR: Balthazar took a breath.

BALTHAZAR: (nervous, playing it off) Am I “losing my temper”...? Of course not! Far from it! I’m as cool as a cucumber! As chill as a penguin! As composed as… a symphony!

FARMER: In that case, take that scythe, return to the meadow, and keep mowing. NOW!

NARRATOR: Balthazar let out a sigh. And under the light of the moon and the glint of the stars, he went back to the meadow and continued to mow.

BALTHAZAR: (ad-lib tired efforting sounds)

NARRATOR: Eventually, his tired body and empty belly got the best of him…

BALTHAZAR: (ad-lib more tired efforting sounds) 

NARRATOR: …and as the stars faded, and the moon dropped from view, his scythe dropped to the ground… and he dropped off to sleep.

BALTHAZAR: (ad-lib sleeping sounds)

NARRATOR: Moments later…

FARMER: Balthazar! Wake up!

NARRATOR: Balthazar blinked open his eyes. Looming over him was… you guessed it!... the farmer.

FARMER: The sun is up, and you haven’t done a lick of work! I told you: you must keep working as long as there is light! So choppety-chop! Get to it!

NARRATOR: Balthazar’s stomach twisted. His nostrils flared. His cheeks burned. And then, with his racing pulse thudding in his ears, he balled his fists... clenched his jaw… and let loose!

BALTHAZAR: (losing his temper) That’s IT! I can’t STAND it anymore! So why don’t you take your cockamamie conditions and hare-brained rules and find some other lackey to follow them! I am out of here!

NARRATOR: Before Balthazar could leave, the farmer held up a hand.

FARMER: Not so fast, Balthazar! Am I sensing that you’re… blowing your top? 

BALTHAZAR: You bet!

FARMER: Flipping your lid?

BALTHAZAR: Oh yeah!

FARMER: Flying into a rage?

BALTHAZAR: Absolutely!

FARMER: Then you owe me one-hundred gold pieces! Because according to my “cockamamie conditions,” the first one of us to lose our temper must pay the other one-hundred gold pieces! That’s what it says in the contract you signed… does it not?

NARRATOR: Balthazar gave a sigh and a nod.

BALTHAZAR: Yes. It does say that. So listen. I will pay you one-hundred gold pieces. I just need a little time. Can you give me a few days? Please?

NARRATOR: The farmer crossed her arms.

FARMER: (cold) Fine. I’ll give you two days. And if you don’t come back with the money you owe, I’ll have you arrested for breaking our contract!

NARRATOR: Despair settled like a stone in Balthazar’s stomach. Tears blurred his vision as he staggered back to his snow-covered cottage, where he greeted Barnaby with a miserable wave.

BALTHAZAR: (miserable) Hi, honey! I’m home!

BARNABY: Balthazar! What happened? Why are you crying?

NARRATOR: Balthazar dropped into a chair and told Barnaby all about the farmer and the curious conditions he had agreed to in her contract.

BALTHAZAR: …And since I promised I wouldn’t lose my temper… and then I went and flew off the handle… I owe that woman one-hundred gold pieces! Or I’ll go to jail!

NARRATOR: Barnaby was quiet for a moment. Then his eyes began to glow.

BARNABY: Balthazar? I think I know what to do. And if my plan works, you won’t have to pay that stingy farmer anything. (dramatic) Because she’ll be the one paying the price!

NARRATOR: What do you think Barnaby is up to? Will his plan work?

We’ll find out what happens, after a quick break.

[BREAK]

NARRATOR: Welcome back to Circle Round. I’m Rebecca Sheir. Today our story is called “Call of the Cuckoo.”

NARRATOR: Before the break, Balthazar and Barnaby were struggling to survive the long, harsh winter.

To help bring in some money, Balthazar got hired at a farm in the valley. But his crafty new boss tricked him into breaking his contract by losing his temper… which meant he had to shell out one-hundred gold pieces! In two days!

When Barnaby heard the story, he promised to help. And the next morning, he set off for the farm in the valley.

When he asked the farmer for a job, she offered the same conditions she had offered Balthazar.

FARMER: You must work for me until the first cuckoo call of spring. And you must never lose your temper. If you do, you must pay me one-hundred gold pieces. But if I lose MY temper, I must pay YOU one-hundred gold pieces! And let you go free!

NARRATOR: Barnaby gave his shoulders a shrug.

BARNABY: I’m sorry, ma’am. But one-hundred gold pieces? That’s not nearly enough! How about we up the ante and make it… (enticing) two-hundred gold pieces?

NARRATOR: After the farmer’s success throwing Balthazar into a tizzy, she was confident she could do the same with this new fellow. And if she could get two-hundred gold pieces for her efforts…? All the better!

FARMER: Two-hundred gold pieces sounds good to me, Barnaby. Meet me tomorrow at sunrise, in the meadow at the far end of my property. I need you to do some mowing. And promise me: you’ll keep mowing as long as there is light!

BARNABY: You’ve got it, boss!

NARRATOR: Barnaby signed the contract, then enjoyed a hot dinner and warm bed. And at sunrise, when the farmer went to meet him in the meadow…

FARMER: Barnaby? 

NARRATOR: …he was nowhere to be seen!

FARMER: Barnaby!

NARRATOR: The farmer waited all morning long. Come noon, she stomped back to her farmhouse, where Barnaby was still in bed!

FARMER: Barnaby! The sun is high in the sky and you haven’t started work yet! Get up this minute, you lazybones!

BARNABY: “Lazybones”???

NARRATOR: Barnaby’s eyes snapped open.

BARNABY: You aren’t losing your temper, boss… Are you…?

NARRATOR: The farmer shook her head.

FARMER: (softer tone) No! I’m not losing my temper! I am merely… suggesting it’s time for you to start mowing the meadow!

BARNABY: Alright then! I’ll get dressed.

NARRATOR: The farmer stepped into the hallway and closed the door to wait.

She waited ten minutes.

FARMER: (calling through closed door) You done getting dressed, Barnaby?  

BARNABY: (playing with her, milking it) Just putting on my pants!

NARRATOR: She waited twenty minutes.

FARMER: (calling through closed door) (more annoyed) You done getting dressed, Barnaby?

BARNABY: (playing with her, milking it) Just buttoning up my shirt!

NARRATOR: She waited thirty minutes.

FARMER: (calling through closed door) (even more annoyed) You done getting dressed, Barnaby?

BARNABY: (playing with her, milking it) Just lacing up my boots!

NARRATOR: By the time Barnaby emerged – fully dressed – sixty minutes had gone by! An entire hour! Think about how long it takes YOU to get dressed. Even on the most sluggish of days, I doubt it takes you a whole hour! So as you can imagine, the farmer was not pleased.

FARMER: (very annoyed) For goodness sake, Barnaby! What took you so long? Are you part snail?

NARRATOR: Barnaby studied the farmer’s face.

BARNABY: Gee! If I didn’t know better, boss… I’d say you’re losing your temper! ARE you losing your temper?

NARRATOR: The farmer pushed her mouth into a semblance of a smile.

FARMER: Losing my temper? Pish posh! I am NOT losing my temper. I am simply eager for the meadow to get mowed. It’s past noon already!

BARNABY: Past noon?

NARRATOR: Barnaby patted his belly.

BARNABY: No wonder I’m so hungry! I’d better eat lunch.

FARMER: You have GOT to be kidding!

BARNABY: Actually? I AM! It’s my first meal of the day, so technically it’s BREAKFAST. (beat) Let’s eat!

NARRATOR: The farmer was ready to explode, but she knew she mustn’t lose her cool. So she gritted her teeth and followed Barnaby to the kitchen.

Barnaby took his sweet time sipping his coffee and chewing his bacon and eggs. Three hours later…

BARNABY: That hit the spot! But ya know what? I think may have eaten too fast. My stomach’s all gurgly. I’d better lie down.

NARRATOR: Then, before the farmer could say a word, Barnaby collapsed on the kitchen floor…

BARNABY: (ad-lib sleeping)

NARRATOR: …and fell asleep.

The farmer was practically foaming at the mouth by now.

FARMER: (angry) Barnaby! Wake up this instant, you good-for-nothing, work-shirking, pathetic excuse for a – (gets interrupted)

BARNABY: Did you say something, boss?

NARRATOR: Barnaby sat bolt upright.

BARNABY: Because I could have sworn I heard someone losing their temper! Flipping their lid! Flying into a rage! Was it you?

NARRATOR: The farmer averted her gaze.

FARMER: No! It wasn’t me. It must have been a dream!

BARNABY: More like a nightmare! It was awful! (beat) But listen. I’m still not feeling well. I’m gonna head back to my room and get more sleep. That is… if it’s okay with you…?

NARRATOR: Barnaby flashed the farmer a smile. She forced a smile back.

FARMER: (forcing a smile) Of course it’s okay with me. Get all the rest you need!

BARNABY: Thanks, boss!

NARRATOR: Once Barnaby went back to bed, the farmer slumped down at the table.

FARMER: This Barnaby character is driving me mad! I must find a way to get out of this contract without having to pay him two-hundred gold pieces. The contract says he must work until the first cuckoo call of spring… If only I could speed that call up…!

NARRATOR: The farmer spent the rest of the day and night plotting and planning. By morning, she had concocted an idea. She pasted on her warmest grin and knocked at Barnaby’s door.

FARMER: (fake nice) Barnaby! How would you feel about some roasted pheasant for lunch?

NARRATOR: There was a shuffling sound in the bedroom, then Barnaby came bounding to the door.

BARNABY: Roasted pheasant? I love roasted pheasant!

FARMER: Well, there’s a whole mess of pheasants living in the woods on my property. How about I give you my extra bow and arrow and we go out for a hunt?

NARRATOR: Barnaby suspected the farmer was up to no good, but he agreed. And minutes later, as he and the farmer stepped through the trees, their bows and quivers slung across their backs, the farmer suddenly froze.

FARMER: (gasp) Do you hear that?

NARRATOR: Now Barnaby froze!

BARNABY: I don’t hear anything! Is it a pheasant?

FARMER: No… I do believe… it’s a CUCKOO!

CUCKOO PERSON: CUCKOO! CUCKOO!

FARMER: Yes! That is definitely the call of a cuckoo. Why – it must be the first cuckoo call of spring! (beat) (GASP!) You know what that means…

BARNABY: That we’re having cuckoo for lunch instead of pheasant?

FARMER: No! Don’t you remember the first condition in your contract? “You must work for me until the first cuckoo call of spring”! Well, we just heard it!

CUCKOO PERSON: CUCKOO! CUCKOO!

FARMER: And there it is again! You are free to go home!

NARRATOR: Barnaby immediately sensed the farmer’s plot. Clearly, she had enlisted someone to hide at the top of the tree and mimic the call of a cuckoo. So Barnaby hatched a plot of his own.

BARNABY: (faux-unconvinced) I dunno, boss… It’s rare to hear a cuckoo call this early in the year! I must see this bird for myself!

NARRATOR: He raced to the tree and wrapped his arms around the trunk, as if getting ready to climb.

The farmer felt a rush of panic. Because guess what? She HAD enlisted someone to hide at the top of the tree and mimic the call of a cuckoo! And Barnaby was about to blow her cover!

FARMER: Barnaby! Wait! Don’t climb that tree! The bird will fly away!

CUCKOO PERSON: (nervous) Cuckoo Cuckoo!

FARMER: You’re scaring it, Barnaby! It sounds nervous!

BARNABY: I think it sounds pretty! (GASP!) Maybe I’ll CATCH it! And keep it as a pet!

CUCKOO PERSON: (nervous) Cuckoo Cuckoo!

NARRATOR: As Barnaby shimmied up the trunk, the farmer felt something tighten in her chest… something dark and hot. It began to bubble… and boil… and next thing she knew…?

FARMER: (furious) THAT’S IT!!!!!

NARRATOR: …she unleashed a torrent of rage!

FARMER: (angry) If you must know, that’s NOT a cuckoo! It’s my cousin, Steve!

CUCKOO PERSON: Cuckoo cu – (gets interrupted)

FARMER: (interrupting) CAN IT, Steve! I’m trying to yell at Barnaby!

CUCKOO PERSON: (disappointed, sheepish) Oh. Sorry!

NARRATOR: The farmer shot Barnaby a stormy look.

FARMER: Barnaby! Ever since you showed up at my farm, you have been getting on my nerves! Driving me up the wall! Making me batty! …So get out of my sight, you rascal! You rogue! You scoundrelly scamp of a scallywag!

NARRATOR: Barnaby batted his eyes.

BARNABY: Boss! Am I sensing that you’re… blowing your top?

FARMER: YES!

BARNABY: Flipping your lid? 

FARMER: YES!

BARNABY: Flying into a rage?

FARMER: YES!

BARNABY: Then you owe me two-hundred gold pieces! Because according to our contract – which, despite your little trick today, is still in play – the first one of us to lose our temper must pay the other two-hundred gold pieces! 

NARRATOR: The farmer heaved a sigh.

FARMER: Fine. I’ll pay you two-hundred gold pieces. It will be worth it to have you out of my life! (beat) Wait here while I fetch the money from the farmhouse!

BARNABY: Hang on!

NARRATOR: Barnaby leaped to the ground.

BARNABY: You only need to pay me one-hundred gold pieces. Someone very dear to me owes you the other hundred. So consider his debt paid. As of today, Balthazar owes you nothing.

NARRATOR: The farmer’s eyes widened as she made the connection between her two latest hires. Of course they knew each other! And Barnaby had come to save Balthazar’s good name.

The farmer sagged in defeat and went to fetch one-hundred gold pieces from the farmhouse. And as Barnaby made his way back home, his purse was plump with coins.

He and Balthazar used their newfound cash to buy more food and fix up their cottage. And now that they were back on their feet, they lived happily all winter long. Though they did look forward to warmer weather, and eagerly kept their ears open for the first cuckoo call of spring.

CUCKOO PERSON: Cuckoo cuckoo!

NARRATOR: No, Steve! The REAL first cuckoo call of spring!

CUCKOO PERSON: (disappointed) Oh. Sorry.