'The Coconut' by Sara Roberts

“Bang bang bang!” The hammer ricocheted off the hairy brown shell like a bouncy castle. I crouched on the cold concrete doorstep watching clouds of white steam coming out of my mouth. The ground was covered in frost that sparkled like fairy dust. The sky was black and I couldn’t see any stars because of the light bulb hanging over the back door, but the night was magical and this was, after all, our first coconut.
 “Damn!” My father swore and dropped the hammer, sucking his thumb. “This is no bloody use. How are you supposed to get into these things? They should come with instructions. Like Fort bloody Knox.”
He disappeared into the kitchen muttering and came back with an electric drill. “Stand back.”
I stood back and blew on my hands. I was wearing my child-size golden fake fur coat and it was soft next to my face. The whine of the drill pierced the night but not the nut. Mum brought out two cups of tea.
“How are you doing here then, you two? Have you cracked the mystery yet?”
Dad grunted and examined the end of the drill.
“Well you’d better hurry up about it. You’re making a right bloody racket and we’ll have Mrs. Simms over from number 12 complaining about the noise, else.”
The sound changed and for a moment we stared.
“Yes!” Dad shouted triumphantly. “We did it! We got into the little bastard. Now I hope it’s worth it after all that.”
Mum came out again and we all crouched around, watching intently as dad lifted the coconut to pour the milk into the glass. Nothing came out.

Comments

  1. Ha! Getting into a coconut is definitely an art form, sometimes frustrating but well worth the struggle if something delicious comes out in the end...sort of like all art forms I guess :) Too bad they didn't get any of the delicious milk, but I'm thrilled we got to enjoy the spoils of Flash Fiction Day! Thanks!

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