♪ Every day when you're walking down the street ♪ ♪ Everybody that you meet has an original point of view ♪ (laughing) ♪ And I say hey ♪ Hey!

♪ What a wonderful kind of day ♪ ♪ If we could learn to work and play ♪ ♪ And get along with each other ♪ ♪ You got to listen to your heart, listen to the beat ♪ ♪ Listen to the rhythm, the rhythm of the street ♪ ♪ Open up your eyes, open up your ears ♪ ♪ Get together and make things better ♪ ♪ By working together ♪ ♪ It's a simple message, and it comes from the heart ♪ ♪ Believe in yourself, for that's the place to start ♪ ♪ And I say hey ♪ Hey!

♪ What a wonderful kind of day ♪ ♪ If we could learn to work and play ♪ ♪ And get along with each other ♪ Hey!

♪ What a wonderful kind of day ♪ Hey!

♪ What a wonderful kind of day ♪ Hey!

Hey, D.W.!

Hey!

Whoa... (crash) BUSTER: Fern!

Over here!

Here you go.

You can thank me later, when you're published.

Published?

My mom told me about this short story contest for young writers.

The winner gets their story published in the Sunday arts section of the Elwood City Times.

FRANCINE: The Sunday arts section?

That's a big deal.

Hey, you could be famous!

Ever since that story in the art section, I've been a huge fan!

Could you please make it out to... Marc Brown?

(gasps) That's Marc with a "C." BUSTER: "Fern's Flights of Fancy."

I'm sure tons of kids will enter the contest.

I probably don't stand a chance.

Oh, come on, Fern.

Everyone knows you're the best writer around.

There's no such thing as "the best" writer.

It's just different people's opinions.

Anyway, I don't write to win contests.

I write because I love it.

Does this mean you're not going to enter?

Well, I would like to have more readers.

And I know just the story I'll use.

Which one?

FRANCINE: No, no!

Don't spoil it.

I want to be surprised when I read it in the paper.

(door opens) Making case notes, Watteau?

George!

I'm sorry, I was so wrapped up writing this story I completely forgot you were coming over.

Is this for that contest?

Can I hear it?

I kind of promised I'd keep it a secret.

Well, okay.

Actually, I think it may be the best thing I've ever written.

Now, it's not finished yet, and I'm not sure about the ending, and it's kind of short... Just read it already!

(takes a deep breath) Okay, here goes.

Once, there was an old man who lived all alone.

People felt sorry for him, but the truth was the old man didn't mind living alone.

He had enough to live on and plenty of friends in the park.

But his friends weren't people.

They were birds.

(whistling) Hey!

There he is!

Looking sharp today, old buddy.

BIRD: How's it going?

FERN: The old man could understand the birds, and they could understand him.

Can't complain.

Who wants pumpernickel?

FERN: The lives of the birds were fascinating.

There was intrigue, adventure, romance, and fierce arguments, which the old man often tried to settle for them.

Some people thought that the old man had lost his marbles.

(laughing) FERN: But he didn't care.

He only cared what the birds thought of him, and the birds thought he was the most wonderful person they had ever met.

One day, the old man's niece showed up.

He had never liked his niece.

Her mouth looked like she had just eaten a lemon.

And she had very heavy footsteps.

(loud stomping) She told the old man that she was concerned about him living all alone, so she wanted him to move in with her.

She just wanted to sell his house.

He knew it was all a lie.

But she was insistent.

The old man's niece was allergic to sunlight, so she had had her house built without windows.

(door opens) She gave the old man things she thought old people liked: applesauce, a book of word jumbles, and TV.

(mumbling voices on TV) (lock clicks) FERN: The old man didn't know what he would do.

He hated TV, he hated applesauce, and he wasn't very good at the word jumbles.

But most of all, he missed his friends.

(chirping) Many months passed.

But he had a plan to see his friends again.

On special occasions, the old man's niece would bring him some bread.

But he didn't eat it.

Instead, he put the bread into the lining of his old coat.

Now all he needed to do was find an excuse to get his niece to take him outside.

He decided to pretend he was sick.

(bell ringing) Which wasn't that far from the truth.

You try eating applesauce for an entire year!

(groaning) The niece decided she would call a doctor and get him to make a house call.

(niece's voice murmuring) The old man's plan was foiled.

But now that his door was open, he decided to make a run for it.

(crickets chirping) (whistling) Since the old man's room didn't have any windows, he never knew what time of day it was.

And now it was the middle of the night, and there were no birds about.

(chirping) Or were there?

Don't worry.

Help is on the way.

(whistling) (chirping) (man laughing joyfully) He was never seen again.

But if you ever hear a bird singing in the middle of the night, she's singing about the old man.

That was amazing!

Really?

You think so?

Do you think I'll win?

Indubitably, Watteau.

(gasps) Beulah McInnerny?!

FERN: Dear Diary.

From this day forward, I hereby give up writing forever.

I'm really sorry you didn't win.

Whatever.

Hey, what did you think of the piece that did win?

I thought it was really moving.

"Nine Reasons I Love My Grandpa"?

That's not even a story.

That's a list.

Anyway, I don't care.

I've decided to give up writing.

What?

You're not serious!

It's no big deal.

I just want to explore other activities for a change, like sports.

(chirping) (chirping) What do you want?

Go away!

(chirping) Stop staring at me!

Shoo!

Shoo!

FRANCINE: Where were you?

This is a soccer practice, Fern, not the daydreaming club.

(sighs) All right, everyone, take five!

(chirping) Was that bird talking to you, like the old man in the story?

Don't ever mention that awful story to me again.

I loved it!

Actually, I thought you might try to submit it somewhere else.

I went online and found all these cool magazines that publish stories by kids.

Forget it, I can't send it out.

Fern, don't give up because of one silly rejection.

I can't send it out because I destroyed it.

(whistle blowing) Whoo!

Let's play ball!

HARRY MILLS: Yes, I was a judge.

I thought Fern's story was the best.

So Fern actually won?

No, there were two other judges and they liked Beulah's better.

Well, could you maybe publish her story anyway?

She's really upset.

Sorry, kiddo.

But you can tell her she has loads of talent, and if she sticks to it, I think she'll become an amazing writer.

(sarcastically): Goal!

Ah, Watteau!

Cleaning your study, I see.

I say, I ran into the most curious fellow: a certain Harry Mills.

Hey, George.

I don't feel like solving a case right now.

How about we just watch TV?

Gadzooks, Watteau, it's 1932 in Great Britain.

We don't have TV yet.

FERN: She seemed like an average third grader: shy, bookish.

But almost overnight, she had become the best soccer player they had ever seen.

How was this possible?

It was almost like she was a machine.

That's because she was a machine.

Even she didn't know it... FRANCINE: Fern, hello!

Hello!

Are you going to shoot sometime this century?

Practice is almost over.

Sorry.

Oof!

Oh, brother.

Hey, Francine, could I talk to you for a sec?

Why not?

I'm sure it'll be another hour before she shoots again.

Five days with no creative writing.

It hasn't been easy.

And I think I need to change hobbies.

The Frensky Star?

Since when does she deliver on a Saturday?

"The Man Who Spoke with Birds" by Fern Walters?

But how...?

It was George!

He's got some nerve, doing this behind my back.

Fern, that was an incredible story!

How did you come up with that?

The birds told her.

I've been saying birds could talk for years, but no one listens to me.

Great story, Fern.

One word for you: movie rights.

I'm thinking Matt Damon as the old man.

Um, thanks.

Congratulations!

Thanks.

MUFFY: Call me!

(chirping) (doorbell rings) You submitted this without my permission.

I'm sorry, I just... You're the most talented person I know.

You can't give up writing.

I'm not going to.

Not anymore.

You're... you're not angry?

No.

But you did leave out the best part of the story.

I did?

The dedication.

"To George Lundgren, the best friend a writer could have."

Merci, mon ami.

(chirping) And now a word from us kids!

Today, we're writing limericks because just the same as Fern does, we are having a writing challenge.

"There once was a bunny called Funny.

All the while, she hoped to be sunny."

"So she went to the Sun and had so much fun."

"That silly bunny from Balleny."

(applause) It was really hard to find a place that rhymed with "bunny."

"Balleny" was as close as we could find, and it's near Antarctica.

A limerick is a five-line verse.

It's named after the county of Limerick in Ireland.

It has an A-A-B-B-A pattern.

All the A lines end with a rhyme, and so do all the B lines.

"There once was a tulip called Holy.

All the while, he hoped to be moley."

"So he ate a bird and turned into a nerd."

"That silly tulip from Romey."

(applause) We took the word "Rome" and changed it to "Romey" so it would rhyme.

I like limericks because they're creative and you can make up your own stuff.

"There once was a bee called Smee."

"All the while, he wanted to see a turkey."

Gobble, gobble, gobble!

"So he went for a walk and played some lacrosse."

"That bee went all the way to Germany."

(applause) "There once was a bunny called Sunny.

All the while, she hoped she'd get honey."

"So she went to the market and looked in her pocket."

"That honey was bought with money."

(applause) "I once went to an arcade and got some lemonade."

"I climbed up a tree and got stung by a bee."

(buzzing) Ow!

"And now I need some first aid."

And now back to Arthur!

Where is it?

Where's what, honey?

The Puffy Unicorn Crunch.

It's always right here.

What if they forgot to put it on the shelves?

Call the manager.

D.W., you're making a mess.

But it's my favorite cereal!

It's puffy and crunchy and unicorny.

They probably just ran out.

How about something else, like Prunes and Millet Husks?

(sighs) Well, I'm sorry, but you'll just have to choose a different one.

Breakfast is ruined!

(gasps) There's one!

But it's really small.

I'll have to save it for a special occasion.

Is today a holiday?

No.

It's just a regular Saturday.

It must be a holiday somewhere!

Look it up on the internet.

Huh!

It's National Librarian's Day.

Yes!

I love librarians.

It is a special occasion.

(gasps) Arthur!

BINKY: "Cereal."

I'm home!

Mom?

Oh!

I was so caught up in this podcast, I didn't hear you come in.

Podcast?

What's that?

A show on the internet where people tell stories.

I was listening to one called "Real Life Mysteries."

It's so gripping!

Can I hear it?

Sure.

We'll listen to the next episode over dinner.

ANNOUNCER: Welcome to "Real Life Mysteries."

I'm your host, Byron Hunt.

Today's episode: are you being watched?

And if so, by whom?

Or what?

BOB: He was everywhere, staring at me.

What did he want?

BYRON HUNT: Finally, Bob decided to confront the old man.

No, don't do it, Bob.

He's a brain-sucking mutant!

BYRON HUNT: But the old man said nothing.

Instead, he just showed Bob a photograph.

It was of a little boy... who looked just like Bob.

(gasps) Bob's a brain-sucking mutant, too?

Buster, eat.

BYRON HUNT: And that's how Bob learned about Rob, the identical twin he had never met.

Wow!

BYRON HUNT: Next week on "Real Life Mysteries," can pets predict the future?

(podcast stops) I think I've just found what I want to do when I grow up.

Create podcasts?

Yeah!

You could do that now.

Really?

It's pretty easy.

You just need a microphone, some editing software...

The hard part is coming up with a great story.

Right.

It's got to be something exciting, strange, mysterious.

Today on "The Baxter Files," what happens to a tuna fish sandwich left in a cabinet for two months?

Ugh!

That smell!

It's like a sick walrus with dirty toes.

Here, take a whiff.

Oh, right, you can't smell.

(sighs) Well, that kind of ruins that story.

The mysterious snail.

One minute, you see them inching along.

The next, they vanish.

But where exactly do they go?

Oh!

Inside their shell.

Huh!

Never knew that.

The end.

(doorbell rings) Do you know who this is?

Um... me?

No.

It's Chester, your identical twin.

How do you feel, Arthur Read?

Confused.

Because I don't have an identical twin.

How do you know?

You might.

Buster, I remember when this photo was taken.

(groans) I'm trying to make a podcast, but I don't have any ideas.

I have an idea.

Do a story about the biggest cereal thief in the world.

D.W., once and for all, I didn't take your Crunchy Unicorn Puffs.

It's Puffy Unicorn Crunch!

And you did, too.

I saw you eating them.

I was eating Oatey Rings.

Liar!

First snowballs, now breakfast foods.

You're heading down a bad path, Arthur Read.

Wait!

This is perfect!

There's mystery, suspense, plenty of weird characters... What's he talking about?

Buster's making some radio show.

It has all the elements of a great story.

I've even got the perfect name for it: "Cereal."

Today on "Cereal," an average eight-year-old aardvark descends into a life of crime and depravity.

Pretty great, huh?

I'll say!

No.

Not great.

I don't want any part of this.

Arthur, if you didn't do it, you have nothing to fear.

I'll prove your innocence.

Ha!

Good luck with that.

Well, I would like to get D.W. off my back.

Great!

Let's start with the scene of the crime.

There was no crime.

BUSTER: What if someone you've known for your entire life, someone you've always trusted, turned out to be dishonest?

Would you ever be able to believe them again?

Do we ever really know someone?

This is the question I'll try to answer on "Cereal."

(dramatic music playing) (contented sigh) There's no pictures?

All you do is listen to some guy talk?

Just click on the link I sent out last night and give it a try.

Maybe if I can't sleep, I will listen to your little bedtime stories.

(laughing) Hey, great podcast!

One question: there was no empty box in the trash, right?

Right.

So what did Arthur do with the evidence?

Arthur didn't do anything with the evidence because Arthur is innocent.

Make sure you listen tomorrow.

I'm going to interview the victim.

After I saw the box was gone, I went into the den.

He had finished it all.

There was... (blowing nose) ...milk dripping down his chin.

My own brother!

(crying) Did you get that?

Want me to do it again?

No.

That was perfect.

I don't even like Puffy Unicorn Crunch.

Why would I take it?

Revenge.

You were angry because I gave your Bionic Bunny doll a makeover.

Is this true?

Well, yes.

Actually, I'm still angry about that, but that doesn't mean I... Oh, I gotta go!

I was supposed to be home an hour ago.

We'll get your side of the story tomorrow.

When's the next one?

Did Arthur do it?

Calm down, everyone.

There'll be a new episode online tonight.

It's an interview with the suspect.

I can't believe how popular this podcast is.

I have over 50 listeners.

You just better make sure you clear my name.

People are starting to treat me differently.

Don't worry, I'm just interested in telling the truth.

Oh, would you mind putting these on?

I just thought, you know, for the poster... Arthur, I'm here for the interview!

Arthur?

(sniffing) A Puffy Unicorn Crunch nugget.

Oh no, Arthur, you didn't!

(faint chomping) (gasps) It was you!

(whimpering) ARTHUR: Buster?

Where are you?

Uh... Be right down!

I saw your bike out there.

Where were you?

Bathroom.

My stomach is guilty.

I mean queasy.

Gotta go!

Call you later.

(whimpering) The dog did it?!

I want my money back!

But it was free.

Well, you should pay us for wasting our time.

It was awful.

Worst thing I ever heard.

Binky was right.

But that's what happened.

What was I supposed to do?

Lie?

Well, it isn't really a lie if I just leave out a few facts.

Today, I found the missing cereal box right under Arthur's bed.

You can draw your own conclusions, but it seems as if Arthur Read is...

I can't do it.

(rewinding) This is your host Buster Baxter.

Spoiler alert: this final episode might be a letdown.

Even though all signs pointed to Arthur's guilt, today I found out who the real culprit was: his dog Pal.

There was no crime, no plot for revenge.

Just a hungry canine who saw an opportunity and seized it.

I started this series wondering if you can ever really know someone.

Well, now I have my answer.

If that someone is Arthur, then yes.

But I wonder about myself.

At some point, I stopped caring about Arthur's innocence because I just wanted to make a good story.

I think part of me even wanted him to be guilty.

What kind of friend does that make me?

Do we ever really know... ourselves?

Ah!

Arthur!

So, what did you think?

Well, once my name was cleared, I actually thought it was pretty interesting.

Are you going to do another one?

Are you talking about the podcast?

I'm on episode two.

Don't say another word.

La la la la la!

BUSTER: To watch more Arthur and play games with all the Elwood City friends, visit pbskids.org.

You can find Arthur books and lots of other books too at your local library.

Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org