Bedtime-Story
For the Busy Business-Parent

Whimsical Bedtime Stories for Children of All Ages
http://www.bedtime-story.com/

U.S.S. Starship Treehouse
Chapter IV

"What are you going to be when you grow up, Timothy?" Amanda Grey had asked her brother this morning.

"Taller," replied Timothy, and turned the page of the shiny silver book he was reading . Timothy was sprawled sideways in a big overstuffed wingback chair at Grandma’s house, pouring through How Things Work, Volume II for the third time. He’d been carefully studying the same twenty page section for days now. A hammer lay on the floor next to the chair.

"No really," insisted Amanda. "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

"I want to be the world’s first Starship Commander," said Timothy. With that he stood up. "Scuse me, Amanda," he said, "But I’ve got a lot more work to do. "C’mon Sam," he said. He grabbed the hammer and little silver book and headed out the back door, towards a great big old tree in the back yard. Mr. Sam Cat trotted off after him.

There had been an enormous amount of banging and thumping and hammering and whirring sounds coming from high up in the branches for about a month now, ever since Grandma had given Timothy the silver books.

Timothy had rigged some sort of an elevator system using a pully, extra-strong clothesline and a sturdy plastic laundry basket. Timothy had loaded up the plastic laundry basket and a piece at a time, he had been hoisting the fruits of his foraging into what a visitor might take to be a pretty good sized treehouse. He had built it all by himself. Well, mostly all by himself. Sometimes Grandma, with Mr. Sam Cat close on her heels, would go out with her own hammer, and lend a hand, just to make sure nothing was going to fall down or electrocute anybody.

To build the Starship, Timothy and Grandma had used materials stored out in Grandma’s old garage. There was a whole bunch of other neat stuff stored in Grandma’s garage. Especially up in the attic where you could find old CB-radios, and antennas, and curious metal boxes festooned with flashing lights and dials and glow-in-the-dark numbers.

With only a little help from Grandma, between them, Timothy and Sam Cat had done a truly amazing job. There was now a completely enclosed, sort of octagonal shaped structure with a remarkable array of "stuff," all precisely placed and anchored. All but invisible clear plastic sheeting provided the waterproofing.

A variety of clothesline operated hatches on each of the eight sides provided porthole light and ventilation, and a trap door in the floor provided access to the interior. A slightly elevated second access hatch was located on the top of the structure.

Several years ago, when Grandma ordered those emergency fire escape ladders from the mail-order company, she’d gotten one extra and Timothy had found it stored on a shelf in the garage, still in the original box. Grandma had said he was welcome to use it, so the drop-down rope ladder became the way you entered and left the treehouse. A rugged waterproof extension cord snaked its way across the yard from the garage up into a small hole in the side of the treehouse, providing shore power to the electrical equipment. The Starship looked like a cross between a treehouse and a flying saucer. That could work to his advantage, Timothy reasoned. Sort of the ultimate cloaking device. A sophisticated interplanetary space vehicle, masquerading as a regulation treehouse. It was only when each of the entry hatches were in the closed position that you could read what Timothy had spelled out with the black plastic stick-on letters. The perfect name.

U.S.S. Starship Treehouse.


Next Chapter