The Window Tapper

by Heather Klassen

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“What’s that?” Sophie asked, her hand still hovering above the board. She had just decided where to move her piece, when the loud noise startled her.

“Sounds like it came from your room,” Rico replied. “Like something hitting the window.”

Sophie jumped up, ran across the hall into her room, and landed on her knees on the window seat. She lifted the giant clamshell Uncle Vince and his partner had saved for her from their seafood business down from its place on the windowsill. Now she could lean on the windowsill to get a better look outside.

“See anything?” Rico asked, arriving on the window seat a moment after Sophie.

“Nope,” Sophie answered, scanning the sky and the buildings outside.

“Maybe a branch blown by the wind?” Rico suggested.

Sophie stared at the clear, still sky. “No wind,” she replied. “And no trees around for blocks anyway,” she reminded Rico.

“Maybe someone threw a rock?” Rico ventured.

Sophie turned to look at her brother. “Rico,” she said. “We live on the fifth floor. No one could throw a rock that high.”

“Let’s get back to the game,” Rico said.

“Okay,” Sophie agreed. “I guess we’ll never know what made that sound.” She lifted the clamshell and set it on the windowsill again, then followed Rico back to his room.

Two turns later, Sophie faced a decision. Move the knight, or the rook? But before she could decide … Bang! Bang! Bang! That sound again, even louder this time.

Sophie raced to her room, Rico right behind. She jumped onto the window seat, grabbed the clamshell, and set it down next to her. Then she and Rico craned their necks and strained their eyes, trying to see in every direction, trying to find out what had banged against the window.

“Could it be the window washers?” Sophie wondered.

“Window washing is on Wednesdays,” Rico replied. “And today’s Friday.”

“A construction crane?” Sophie guessed.

“Nope,” Rico said. “No construction going on from here all the way down to the beach.”

“I’ve heard that sometimes birds accidentally fly into windows,” Sophie said. “Maybe that’s it.”

“What bird could be that loud?” Rico asked. “And besides, two birds in a row like that? Hitting the glass three times in a row? I don’t think it’s a bird. And I’m sure whatever it is, it’s over now. Let’s go finish the game.”

“All right,” Sophie agreed, picking up her clamshell once again. But she didn’t put it back right away. Instead, she stared at the shell.

“Rico,” she said. “Every time we hear the noise, my clamshell is sitting on the windowsill and we’re not in the room. But when we come in here, I move the shell, and the noise doesn’t happen again.”

“So?” Rico shrugged. “You think the shell’s doing it?”

“Of course not,” Sophie said. “But maybe there’s a connection. Let’s put the shell back and hide in the closet. We can peek out through the slats. Maybe we can find out what’s going on.”

“Let’s give it five minutes and then go back to the game,” Rico said. “I don’t want to spend the rest of the day in your closet, Sophie!”

“Agreed,” Sophie replied. She set the clamshell in its usual spot on the windowsill, then led her brother into her closet. Pushing aside three backpacks, part of a stuffed horse collection, and one lonely boot, Sophie made space for them to sit.

“Let’s watch,” Sophie whispered, peering between the wooden slats.

One minute ticked by. Nothing happened. Then two minutes, then three, then Rico started to complain, “This is boring, Sophie.” Then …

“Look!” Sophie cried just as a huge beak crashed into the window. “It is a bird, but it’s not an accident! It’s a seagull!”

Tap! Tap! Tap! The gray and white gull smacked its beak against the glass, aiming right for the clamshell.

“It thinks it can eat my clamshell!” Sophie exclaimed as the seagull, disappointed once again, flew off.

Sophie opened the closet door and she and Rico tumbled out.

“I’m glad we—or I mean, you,” Rico corrected himself, “solved the mystery of the window tapper, Sophie. But can we get back to the game now?”

“Sure,” Sophie said. “But there’s one thing I need to do first,” she added, crossing the room.

“What?” Rico asked.

Sophie lifted her clamshell from the windowsill. “Find a new home for my shell,” she said. “I don’t want to fool and frustrate any more seagulls.”

Sophie found a perfect spot on her bookshelf, nestling the shell between two of her favorite series.

Now I can concentrate on playing the game, Sophie thought, as she hurried to Rico’s room. And that seagull can go off in search of food that it might have a chance of actually eating. Good plans for both of us.