One Rainbow, Handle Gently

On Monday night, Tilly wrote a letter to the sky.

Dear Sky, she wrote. Please send something bright and breezy for Tuesday, for drying. Mom has a lot of sheets. Love from Tilly.

She held it up high on the hill, and the wind took it. That is how letters go to the sky.

On Tuesday morning, Tilly hung out the washing. There were sheets and shirts and all of Dad’s grey socks. It all had to be dry before teatime. Tilly pegged the socks in pairs. She always did. She did not like a muddle.

Then something came down out of the sky.

Flumpf.

It landed across the yard, from the hen house to the pump. It was red and orange and yellow and green and blue and purple. It was a rainbow. A real one.

Tilly put her hand on it. The rainbow was solid, and warm, like a cat that has been lying in the sun.

Tied to one end was a brown paper label. Tilly read it out loud.

“One rainbow. For the Queen. Handle gently.”

“Well,” said Tilly. “I’m not the Queen.”

* * *

A little cloud came bobbing over the wall. On it sat a boy. The cloud sagged, and down he sank, as low as Tilly’s knees. He punched the cloud like a pillow. Thump, thump. Up he came again.

“Hello,” said the boy. “I’m Puff, from the cloud castle. Is that our rainbow?”

“It says it’s the Queen’s,” said Tilly.

“It’s for her birthday tea,” said Puff. “Your letter said something bright for Tuesday. So did the Queen’s. So the post got muddled.”

“Then where did my breeze go?” said Tilly.

“I don’t know,” said Puff. “I only do rainbows.”

First, they tried to lift the rainbow.

Puff read the label. “One rainbow. For the Queen. Handle gently.”

Tilly took one end. Puff took the middle. “Heave!” said Tilly.

The rainbow did not move one bit. Down sank Puff’s cloud. Thump, thump.

Next, they tried to roll it.

Puff read the label again. “One rainbow. For the Queen. Handle gently.”

They pushed. The rainbow went wibble-wobble and stayed right where it was.

“Rainbows don’t roll,” said Puff. “I should have known that.”

Last, they asked the wind to blow it home.

Puff read the label one more time. “One rainbow. For the Queen. Handle gently.” Then he put two fingers in his mouth and whistled.

Far off on the next hill, the wind was busy drying somebody else’s sheets. Flap, flap, flap.

“Sorry!” said the wind, from far away. “Can’t stop!”

Soon it would be teatime. Tilly sat down on the rainbow and thought hard.

“If the rainbow can’t go up to the Queen,” said Tilly, “then the Queen can come down the rainbow.”

“But she has never been on the ground,” said Puff. “Not once. Not even one toe.”

“Then today is a good day for it,” said Tilly. “It’s her birthday.”

Tilly read the label. “One rainbow. For the Queen. Handle gently.”

So she did. She lifted just one end, very gently, the way Dad lifts the long ladder. One end was not too heavy at all.

Puff took hold of it. He fluffed his cloud with all his might. Thump, thump, thump! Up he went. The rainbow rose behind him like a bright bridge, all the way up to the cloud castle.

Bonk.

A little door opened, and out came the Queen of the Clouds in her white crown. She walked down the rainbow, one careful step at a time. Halfway, she began to laugh. The last bit, she ran.

When her feet touched the farmyard, she stood very still.

“Oh!” said the Queen. “It doesn’t wobble!”

She jumped up and down to be sure. It didn’t.

* * *

Mom put the kettle on. There was no birthday cake, so Mom stuck a candle in a jam tart. The Queen said it was the finest cake she had ever seen.

Then Tilly pegged the wet washing along the bottom of the rainbow. Sheets on the red. Shirts on the yellow. Dad’s grey socks in pairs, all along the blue.

Before the tea was even poured, every single thing was dry.

Dad took his socks off the rainbow. Each one was striped: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and a purple toe.

Dad looked at them for a long time.

“I like them better,” said Dad, and he put a pair on right away.

Puff ate four jam tarts and had to fluff his cloud twice. The Queen took off her shoes and stood on the warm stones of the yard.

“This is the best birthday I have ever had,” said the Queen. “And I have had a great many.”

* * *

The moon came up, round and gold, over the hill.

“Thank you for my birthday,” said the Queen. She kissed Tilly on the top of her head. Then she walked home up the rainbow and waved from the top. Behind her, the rainbow faded softly away, stripe by stripe, until there was only the moon.

Puff gave his cloud one last fluff. Thump. He waved all the way up.

Mom made Tilly’s bed with the sheets from the rainbow. They were still a little bit warm. When Tilly looked very hard, she could see faint stripes.

Tilly climbed in. Mom tucked the sheet up under her chin.

“One Tilly,” said Mom. “For bed. Handle gently.”

Tilly laughed a sleepy laugh. She had sorted out a whole rainbow before teatime. She felt proud, and bright as a rainbow, all the way down to her toes.

Then, in her warm striped sheets, under the round gold moon, Tilly fell fast asleep.