I'M A KIWI - CHAPTER 2 [ENG]

August 17, 2026

I’M A KIWI – CHAPTER 2.

Later on, after brushing her teeth, doing a pee, pulling the blinds of her bedroom down, and preparing her school uniform for the following day, Sofía waited for her father leafing through a book on her bed. Night reading was a secret ritual between them, broken only when her parents went out on weekends, or her father had some dinner or a business trip. In those days it was her mother or her older sister, Laura, who shared their stories. Laura used to tell her stories of kings and pharaohs, treaties, and wars, depending on what she was studying in her history class or whether she had a test coming up soon.

Sofía had two elder siblings (much older than her, in fact). John (or Jon, as he liked to spell it), and Laura. Jon was the eldest. He was 17 and wasn’t much at home. Sofía loved listening to his music and snooping into his books. On family trips, Jon always carried some CDs to play in the car. Queen’s Greatest Hits were Sofia’s favorites, and so was Dire Strait´s Sultans of Swing. They cranked them up and sang along We are the champions and I want it all. Every time the latter came, her father got outraged and mumbled: «What kind of song is this? What’s with this wanting-it-all»? And every time, John, Laura and, Sofía cracked up, finding his indignation terribly funny.

Her father enjoyed listening to Edith Piaf and The Glenn Miller Orchestra. Also, Connie Francis, Frank Sinatra, Nina Simone, and Stevie Wonder. He also liked to discover new voices and special talents. Lately, he had fallen in love with Whitney Houston, Paloma San Basilio and, José Carreras.

Laura was into Rick Astley, Eros Ramazzotti, Wilson Phillips, and different OST, like Dirty Dancing or Footloose, which Sofía enjoyed like crazy.

Their mother played Julio Iglesias or listened to radio talk shows, which Sofía found pretty boring.

As for Sofía… well, she simply enjoyed listening to the other’s music.

Coming back to that special night, Sofía was leafing through a book on her bed when her father walked in.

“I was waiting for you. I’ve chosen Momo. I love Momo. And Casiopea, she is sooo cute.”

“I like them too, it’s one of my favorite stories. But, tonight, I have a different proposal for you, let´s see what you think. I’ve thought, that, this time, instead of reading a story we can make one up ourselves about how the kiwi has got into our hands”. He uttered this kiwi part very, very low, so nobody but themselves could hear it.

Sofía spread a cheeky smile while she nodded with enthusiasm.

“I love it!” she said.

“All right then” and he went to the bedroom threshold, leaned out looking up and down the aisle and´, gingerly closed the door, looking back at his daughter while putting a finger across his lips.

Sofía covered her mouth with both hands to muffle her laughter from getting out, eyes gleaming with anticipation.

“Let’s see” her father continued “who goes first? I have a couple of interesting theories, but maybe you´d rather…”

“You go first! Come on! Come on!”

“Well,” he muttered, “I believe this story begins in an egg packaging plant in Cádiz, Spain.”

“Cádiz? Why Cádiz?”

“Why not? I like Cádiz. I like its beaches, its food, its white villages, and its people, and I want my story to start there. Can I go on?”

“Yes, you can.”

“Thanks. As I was saying before you rudely interrupted me”, her father carried on, “at this egg packaging plant works a young, dark-skinned, brown-eyed woman named Carmen. She wears a purple headscarf, just like those you love wearing in summer instead of a hat.”

“They’re called bandanas.”

“Whatever. Carmen is one of the workers in charge of filling up thousands of boxes with all the eggs produced by the factory into their boxes. She has her own spot with a chair and a table, both white, located next to the conveyor belt, where she picks out the eggs and puts them in their place. She and two other women oversee the brown eggs and her best friend and two more men, the white ones. Carmen likes to spoil them. A lot. The eggs, I mean, not her colleagues (funny wink). She picks them up quickly –because everything goes super-fast in her job– but gently. She sings and talks to them while putting them into their carton cases. Then, as she sends them away to be sealed off, she safetravels them and wishes them good luck. ‘You´re gonna become a promising tortilla’ she says, ‘you´ll see. And you? You´ll end up all fried and delicious.’ But, in addition to pampering her eggs, Carmen fancies many other things, too.”

“Like what?”

“Like kiwis”, soft rumor of autumn leaves sighing in Sofia’s ear. An intense look shining in her eyes.

“Carry on.”

“All right. Did you know that Carmen has all sorts of fruit and vegetables in her fridge? Or that she likes to dance salsa and make juices? She also loves fruit salads and is mad about Spanish ham and tomato sandwiches –tomato pulp, not in slices–. She has two little kids, Adrián and Martín, two charming and funny troublemakers.

On ‘K(iwi)’ day Carmen had run out of oranges for breakfast. That morning, after seven tough negotiations, three threats, one and a half tantrums, and a couple of races up and down the hallway, Adrián finally got dressed, and the first thing he did when he came into the kitchen was ask for his orange juice.

‘We ran out of oranges, sweetie. Have a kiwi instead, and fast, I gotta get going’ his mother said.

Carmen didn’t expect Adrian to obey her, as he usually says no to almost everything that he was told. But that was a different morning because, that morning, instead of complaining or asking what a kiwi was or why she wanted him to eat a kiwi, he simply said ‘OK’, leaving her mother speechless for a couple of endless seconds. Luckily, Carmen was able to disguise her amazement and, without saying a word and with a smirk on her face, she approached the fruit bowl and took a brown and hairy kiwi. Then, she cut it in half and placed it in front of his son, who only said:

‘And how am I supposed to eat this, mommy?’

She took two little spoons out of the drawer and gave one to Adrián.

‘Look and repeat’ she said, prying her spoon in the kiwi’s firm flesh. When she stuck it inside her mouth she released a long ‘Mmmmmm’ and looked at her son out the corner of her eye who, hesitating, stuck his own spoon in his kiwi half and extracted a small piece the size of his thumb’s nail.”

Sofía looked at hers.

“Very slowly he put it in his mouth and tasted it, shifting it from one side to the other, chewing it up until he finally swallowed it.

‘So?? Carmen asked.

‘It’s delicious mommy!’ Adrián answered cheerfully ‘Everybody should taste a kiwi once in their lives!’

That was how Adrián tried a kiwi for the first time in his life and how Carmen went to work happy and proud of her little boy, who had tried a new fruit and liked it so much.

Later, as she was putting the eggs in their boxes, over, and over, and over again, she thought about what her son had said: ‘Everybody should taste a kiwi once in their lives.’

And that was the moment…

When she decided…

To…

GO BANANAS!!”

Sofía was mesmerized.

“Very cautiously, Carmen reached out for her purse, a fuchsia and sky blue bag, and dug her arm into the bottom, as if it were a magician’s top hat. Then, quick as a bolt, she took out the kiwi she had brought for lunch and waited a little while, hiding it, until she was certain no one was watching her. Then she put the kiwi inside the box, among the eggs, her heart racing as she pressed the cover closed and laid it in the conveyor belt, hoping, praying with all her heart, not to have gotten into trouble for following her son’s advice.

And that, my dearest Softy is how the kiwi made it your bedroom. And they lived happily ever after. Liked it?”

“Weeeell” Sofia hummed while she was staring at the ceiling, pretending not to care “It wasn’t THAT bad.”

“WHAT?! It wasn’t bad at all! It was awesome, gripping, splendid, epic!” he launched a furious tickling attack over his daughter. “It was the best story you have ever heard. Admit it! Admit it!”

“I give up! I give up!” Sofía writhed among laughs and twisted sheets. “I do! I loved it! Stop! Stop! Stop!”

“That’s more like it. Now come here”, he pulled her close to hug her. “Tomorrow is your turn, OK? You have a whole day to think up a story, come up with its characters and names, look up some pompous words –just as pompous– in the dictionary, and leave me speechless. Deal?”

“Deal.”

As soon as the deal was closed Sofía’s father stood up and went straight to his daughter’s closet.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m looking for something,” he said while searching among dresses, blouses, and trousers. “This, in fact”, and showed her daughter the green carton box.

“That’s my secret hiding place!” she protested.

“Well, it doesn’t seem too secret to me, does it?” Quick halfway grey wink. “Look, your mom opens this closet every day to hang clean clothes inside, change them, or choose fancy outfits for you. But here” he paused and pointed at a chest full of stuffed toys “here she never snoops”.

It was true. Keeping her bedroom tidy was Sofía’s business. Her mother would never open that trunk. Ever.

“If you hide this egg box among these soft, and teddy toys, it will stand a chance of lasting longer than four days, so we’ll keep it here and take it out tomorrow night to listen to your story, alright? Now close your eyes and go to sleep.”

He kissed his little girl a kiss on her forehead and a tender caress on her cheek and left the room, leaving the child alone with her pillow, her story, her eggs, and her kiwi.

(Illustration by Iona García García)

Read this chapter in Spanish: [Versión en Español]