One quill dressed for the occasion.
Something Special
Piko read the invitation three times.
“Please bring something special to place on the table,” it said.
He looked at the little red tip on one of his quills. He liked it very much, but he could not take it off and put it on a table.
He read the invitation again.
It did not say whether the special thing had to be large, useful, or shiny.
Piko looked around his room. On the shelf stood a smooth stone, a folded piece of paper, and a button he had found near the garden gate.
The stone was pleasant to hold. The paper had once been folded into a bird, though one wing had come undone. The button was blue and had four small holes.
He put them all beside one another.
Then he found a yellow ribbon in his drawer and added it to the row.
“Which of you is special?” he asked.
The button rolled off the shelf.
The Yellow Ribbon
Piko retrieved the button from beneath his chair. While he was there, he found a dry leaf with a very neat hole in it.
He added the leaf to the row.
“Perhaps I can take all of you.”
He tried putting the stone, button, and leaf on the folded paper, but the paper bird opened and tipped the button onto the floor.
The ribbon remained on the shelf.
Piko picked it up. Its yellow colour matched a small patch near the back of his quills. He turned his head to see both at once.
It was not easy.
He stood beside the mirror, holding the ribbon in one paw. If he looked at the yellow patch, he could not see the ribbon. If he looked at the ribbon, he could not quite see the patch.
He took two steps back.
“There,” he said.
The ribbon had slipped from his paw.
Piko picked it up again and folded it carefully. He put the button back on the shelf and set the stone beside it, so neither would roll away.
Then he tucked the ribbon into a little bag and went to Rumi’s house.
On the Table
Rumi had placed a long table in the garden.
A small cup sat at one end. Beside it was a drawing of a tree with a nest in its branches. Someone had brought a seed that looked remarkably like a tiny shoe.
Piko looked into his bag.
“Is there a place for my ribbon?” he asked.
“Of course,” Rumi said. “May I see it?”
Piko took it out. The ribbon had become a little creased.
“I chose it because it’s the same colour as one of my quills.”
Rumi walked around him.
“I see it. Near the back.”
“There’s a red one too, but I couldn’t find a red ribbon.”
“This one is lovely.”
Piko looked at the seed shaped like a shoe.
“It’s rather plain.”
“Why did you choose it?”
“I like the colour. And it moves nicely.”
He held one end and gave it a little wave. The ribbon curled through the air, then fell across the edge of the table.
Rumi smiled. “Shall we put it like that?”
Together, they arranged it in a loose curve. One end pointed towards the little cup; the other rested beside the drawing.
Another guest came over.
“Who brought the ribbon?”
“I did,” Piko said.
“Does it match the red quill?”
“The yellow one,” Piko said. “The red one didn’t need any help.”
The guest asked to see both. Piko turned slowly, careful to keep his bag away from the table.
“There’s the yellow,” Rumi said.
“And the red is just above it.”
Piko completed his turn. Something tugged gently at his back.
One End Left
The ribbon had caught on one of his quills.
Piko stopped. Rumi held the loose end while he leaned forward. The ribbon slipped free and settled back onto the table.
“I thought it wanted another look,” Piko said.
“At the yellow one?” Rumi asked.
“Perhaps. It went past rather quickly.”
They arranged the ribbon again, a little farther from the edge.
Throughout the afternoon, the guests showed one another what they had brought. The owner of the little cup liked its crooked handle. The artist explained that the nest in the drawing was empty because the birds had gone out.
“And the seed?” Piko asked.
“I found it beside the path,” its owner said. “I thought it might be looking for the other shoe.”
Before leaving, everyone collected their things. Rumi folded the ribbon and handed it to Piko.
“Will you bring something different next time?” she asked.
“Should I?”
“You may bring this again, if you like.”
Piko tucked the ribbon into his bag.
“I might bring the button too.”
“What’s special about it?”
“It rolls whenever I ask it a question.”
Rumi opened the gate for him.
“Perhaps we should put it in the little cup.”
“That’s a good idea.”
Piko took a step through the gate and felt another small tug at his back.
Rumi looked behind him.
“One end is still with you.”
A narrow tip of yellow ribbon had slipped from the bag and caught on a quill. Piko held still while Rumi lifted it free.
“Was it trying to stay?” she asked.
“I think it wanted to come back with the button.”
He tucked the end safely into his bag and went home, checking once at the corner to make sure the ribbon was still inside.
It was. His red quill was still there too.
Livora Gracely ♥
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