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WBUR Podcasts, Boston 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!
I'm Rebecca Shear, and welcome to Circle Round, where story time happens all the time.
Today, 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 to the European nations of Denmark, Ireland, and Italy.
Some really great people came together to bring you our version of this folktale, including Broadway performers, Lifestyle bloggers, educators, and real life husbands and dads, Brett Shuford and Stephen Hanna, the dynamic duo behind Broadway Husbands.
Listen for their new Podcast, husbands to dads this summer.
So, circle around everyone, for Call of the Cuckoo.
It was an especially harsh winter and Balthasar 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.
Balthasar, 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.
I hear you, Barnaby.
It's so brutal out there.
Our chickens have stopped laying eggs and our cow has stopped giving milk.
I'm surprised she isn't giving milkshakes at this point!
Balthazar, what are we going to do?
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.
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.
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!
Balthasar raced down the hill and knocked at the farmhouse door.
Knock knock knock. When he introduced himself and told the farmer he was looking for work, her face broke into a wide grin.
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 farm hand.
I'll give you five silver pieces a week, plus food and drink and a place to sleep.
There are just two conditions, two requirements that go along with the job.
All right, let's hear the conditions.
Well, the first condition is you must work for me until the first cuckoo call of spring." Balthasar smiled to himself.
Technically, it was still winter.
But with the balmy weather in this valley, working till the first cuckoo call would be easy.
Sounds reasonable to me, ma 'am.
What's the second condition?
The second condition is you must never lose your temper.
Balthasar cocked his head.
I'm sorry, did you just say I must never lose my temper?
That's the second condition of the job?
It is. While working for me you must never blow your top, flip your lid, fly into a rage.
Lose your temper Balthasar and I will pay you nothing.
Instead, you will pay me 100 gold pieces.
However... But wait.
I don't have that kind of money.
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 100 gold pieces.
And let you go free.
Beltazar considered the farmers' 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 Balthasar agreed to the farmer's conditions.
She wrote up a contract to make it official, and Balthasar signed his name on the dotted line.
Thank you very much, Balthasar.
You'll start work first thing tomorrow.
Meet me in the meadow at the far end of my property at sunrise.
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. 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?
You've got it, boss.
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.
He mowed all morning.
Oh! He mowed all afternoon, 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.
Balthazar, what are you doing here?
I told you to work as long as there was light.
Right? That's why I spent all day mowing.
I worked all the way until the sun went down.
Then apparently, you misunderstood my directions.
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.
Moonlight and starlight count as light, too.
So, get back to work!
Balthazar furrowed his brow.
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...
Balthazar! The farmer gave Balthazar a stunned look.
Are you losing your temper?
Because if you are a penalty of 100 gold, pieces is an awful lot to pay." Balthasar took a breath.
Am I losing my temper?
Of course not, far from it.
I'm as cold as a cucumber, as chill as a penguin, as composed as a symphony.
In that case, take that scythe, return to the meadow, and keep mowing!
Now! 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.
Eventually his tired body and empty belly got the best of him, and as the stars faded and the moon dropped from view.
His scythe dropped to the ground, and he dropped off to sleep.
Shhhh! Moments later...
Balthasar! Wake up!
Balthasar blinked open his eyes.
Looming over him was, you guessed it, the 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 choppity -chop, get to it.
Balthasar's stomach twisted, his nostrils flared, his cheeks burned.
And then with his racing pulse thudding in his ears, he balded his fists, clenched his jaw, and let loose.
That's it. I can't stand it anymore.
So why don't you take your cockamamie conditions and hare -brained roars and find some other lackey to follow them.
I am outta here! Before a belthasar could leave, the farmer held up a hand.
Not so fast, belthasar.
Am I sensing that you're blowing your top?
You bet! Flipping your lid?
Oh, yeah! Flying into a range?
Absolutely! Then you owe me 100 gold pieces because, according to my cockamamie conditions, The first one of us to lose our temper must pay the other 100 gold pieces.
That's what it says in the contract you signed, does it not?
Baltazar gave a sigh and a nod Yes, it does say that.
So listen, I will pay you 100 gold pieces.
I just need a little time.
Can you give me a few days, please?
The farmer crossed her arms. 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.
Despair settled like a stone in Balthasar's stomach. Tears blurred his vision as he staggered back to his snow -covered cottage where he greeted Barnaby with a miserable wave. Hi honey, I'm home.
Balthasar, what happened?
Why are you crying?
Balthasar dropped into a chair and told Barnaby all about the farmer and the curious conditions he had agreed to in her contract.
And since I promised I wouldn't lose my temper and then I went and flew off the handle I owe that woman 100 gold pieces or I'll go to jail.
Barnaby was quiet for a moment.
Then his eyes began to glow.
Balthazar, I think I know what to do.
And if my plan works, you won't have to pay that stingy farmer anything because she'll be the one paying the price.
What do you think Barnaby is up to?
Will his plan work?
We'll find out what happens after a quick break.
Before we return to our story, a quick reminder and request to take our short survey, so we can learn how to make your circle -round experience even more fun.
It takes 10 minutes and all survey takers get a bonus story from me Rebecca sheer.
Click the link in the show notes or visit WBOR slash survey Welcome back to circle round.
I'm Rebecca shear today.
Our story is called the call of the cuckoo 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 Balthasar.
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 100 gold pieces, but if I lose my temper, I must pay you 100 gold pieces.
pieces and let you go free." Barnaby gave his shoulders a shrug.
I'm sorry, ma 'am, but 100 gold pieces, that's not nearly enough.
How about we up the ante and make it 200 gold pieces?
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 200 gold pieces for her efforts, all the better.
200 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.
You've got it, boss.
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.
Barnaby? He was nowhere to be seen.
Barnaby! The farmer waited all morning long.
Come noon, she stomped back to her farmhouse, where Barnaby was still in bed.
Barnaby, the sun is high in the sky and you haven't started work yet.
Get up this minute, you lazybones!
Lazy bones! Barnaby's eyes snapped open.
You aren't losing your temper, boss, are you?
The farmer shook her head.
No! I'm not losing my temper.
I'm merely suggesting it's time for you to start mowing the meadow.
Alright then, I'll get dressed.
The farmer stepped into the hallway and closed the door to wait.
She waited 10 minutes.
You done getting dressed, Barnaby?
Just putting on my pants.
She waited 20 minutes.
You done getting dressed, Barnaby?
Just buttoning up my shirt.
She waited 30 minutes.
You done getting dressed, Barnaby?
Just lacing up my boots.
By the time Barnaby emerged, fully dressed, 60 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.
For goodness sake, Barnaby, what took you so long?
Are you part snail?
Barnaby studied the farmer's face.
Gee, if I didn't know better, boss, I'd say you're losing your temper.
Are you losing your temper?
The farmer pushed her mouth into a semblance of a smile.
Losing my temper? Oh, pish posh!
I am NOT losing my temper.
I am simply eager for the meadow to get mowed. It's past noon already.
Past noon? Barnaby patted his belly.
No wonder I'm so hungry.
I'd better eat lunch. You have got to be kidding!
Actually, I am. It's my first meal of the day so technically it's breakfast. Let's eat!
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...
That hit the spot! But you know what?
I think I may have eaten too fast. My stomach's all gurgley...
I'd better lie down.
Then, before the farmer could say a word, Barnaby collapsed on the kitchen floor...
Snoring Shh! And fell asleep.
The farmer was practically foaming at the mouth by now.
Barnaby, wake up this instant.
You good -for -nothing, work -shirking, pathetic excuse for - Did you say something, boss?
Barnaby sat bolt upright.
Because I could have sworn I heard someone losing their temper.
Flipping their lid.
Flying into a rage.
Was it you? The farmer averted her gaze Nooo It wasn't me it must have been a dream More like a nightmare It was awful But listen I'm still not feeling well I'm going to head back to my room and get more sleep that is if it's okay with you Barnaby flashed the farmer a smile She forced a smile back.
Of course it's okay with me.
Get all the rest you need.
Thanks, boss. Once Barnaby went back to bed, the farmer slumped down at the table.
This Barnaby character is driving me mad.
I must find a way to get out of this contract without having to pay him 200 gold pieces.
The contract says he must work until the first cuckoo call of spring.
If only I could speed that call up.
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.
Barnaby! How would you feel about some roasted pheasant for lunch?
There was a shuffling sound in the bedroom.
Then Barnaby came bounding to the door.
Roasted pheasant? Oh, I love roasted pheasant.
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?
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.
Do you hear that? Now Barnaby froze.
I don't hear anything.
Is it a pheasant? No. I do believe it's a cuckoo.
Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Yes, that is definitely the call of a cuckoo.
Why, it must be the first cuckoo call of spring.
Ugh, you know what that means.
That we're having cuckoo for lunch instead of pheasants?
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. Cuckoo. Oh, and there it is again.
You are free to go home.
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.
I don't know, boss.
It's rare to hear a cuckoo call this early in the year.
I must see this bird for myself.
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.
Barnaby! Wait! Don't climb that tree.
The bird will fly away.
Cuckoo! Cuckoo! You're scaring it, Barnaby!
It sounds nervous! I think it sounds pretty.
Maybe I'll catch it and keep it as a pet.
Cuckoo. Cuckoo! 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...
That's it! She unleashed a torrent of rage.
If you must know that's not a cuckoo, it's my cousin Steve.
Cuckoo. Cuckoo. I need Steve!
I'm trying to yell at Barnaby.
Oh...sorry. The farmer shot Barnaby a stormy look.
Oh, 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 scoundrel -y scamp -of -a -scalor wag...
Barnaby batted his eyes.
boss am I sensing that you're blowing your top yes flipping your lid yes flying into a rage yes then you owe me 200 gold pieces because according to our contract which despite your little trick today is still in play the first one of us to our temper must pay the other two hundred gold pieces.
The farmer heaved a sigh.
Fine, I'll pay you two hundred gold pieces.
It will be worth it to have you out of my life.
Wait here while I fetch the money from the farmhouse.
Hang on. Barnaby leaped to the ground.
You only need to pay me one hundred gold pieces.
Someone very dear to me owes you the other So consider his debt paid.
As of today, Balthazar owes you nothing!
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! Cuckoo! No, Steve, the real first cuckoo call of spring.
Oh, sorry. 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, even fun way?
Find a grown -up and start brainstorming ideas.
You could write down what's bothering you, then crumple up the paper.
You could draw a picture of your anger, or just scribble on a page.
You could squish some clay, or squeeze a squishy ball, or you could take a long, slow breath, and talk about your anger with someone you trust. Remember, we all experience a variety of feelings, including anger.
It's what we do with those feelings that counts.
This week's episode, Call of the Cuckoo, was adapted by me, Rebecca Shear.
It was edited by Dean Russell.
Our original music and sound design is by Eric Shimelonis.
Eric's featured instrument this week was the steel guitar.
To learn more about this staple in country music and to see a photo of Eric playing one, visit our website, wbur .org slash circleround.
Circleround's artist Sabina Hahn.
Sabina has created a black and white coloring page for all of our circleround stories and you can print them out and color them in.
Grown -ups, you can find them all at wbur .org slash circle round.
Special thanks to this week's actors Evan Casey, Susanna Mars, Stephen Hannah and Brett Shuford Stephen and Brett are the real -life couple behind the website and podcast Broadway Husbands.
This summer, they'll release Husbands' Two 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.
Want to circle around with us in even more ways while also supporting public media?
Join the Circle Round Club and help keep our WBUR podcast going strong while also getting ad free episodes, bonus bedtime stories, music, education videos, a newsletter from me and Eric, plus early access to our live events.
Become a member today at WBUR .org slash circleround.
Grown ups if you have a moment, please leave us a five star rating or review on whatever podcast app you're using right now.
It helps other listeners find the show so we can make the circle round circle even bigger.
Circle Round is a production of WBUR, Boston's NPR news station.
I'm Rebecca Shear. Thanks for circling around with us.
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