The Pillow Cloud and the Rain Cloud

High above a valley of farms, on a cloud of its own, there was a little house with a green door. Toby lived there with his Nan. Nan was the cloud-keeper.

Every evening the clouds came home and bobbed outside the green door like sheep at a gate. And every evening they had to be sent down again to the farms. First each one got a clothes peg, so it knew where to go. A blue peg meant rain. A yellow peg meant just floating about. A white peg meant pillow.

The white peg went on the biggest, softest cloud of all. That cloud never went down to the farms. At bedtime it went on Nan’s bed. Nan’s pillow was a cloud.

Toby loved helping. Most of all he loved the fun part. The fun part was giving a cloud a little push off the edge and watching it sail away down the sky like a boat.

“Can I do all the clouds by myself tonight?” said Toby. “Every single one?”

He wanted Nan to go to bed proud of him.

Nan yawned a big yawn. “All right,” she said. “Not too fast, mind. And soft side up, Toby.”

Every cloud had a soft side and a flat side, like a cushion. Nan liked her pillow cloud soft side up.

Nan looked over the edge at the valley. “Look at Low Farm,” she said. “Those fields are as dry as toast. They need the rain cloud tonight. And there’s Clover the calf, still wriggling. That’s three nights she hasn’t slept a wink.”

“Hic,” went a little grey cloud by the door.

“Hear that?” said Nan. “That’s how you know a rain cloud is ready. Pat it three times and it lets go of all its rain.” Then she went inside.

Toby got the peg basket. He went as fast as he could, so he could get to the fun part. Yellow pegs on the little floaty clouds. Clip, clip, clip. The blue peg on the big soft white one. Clip. The white peg on the little grey one. Clip.

He did not look. He was too busy hurrying.

Then the fun part! Push, and away went the yellow clouds to float about. Push, and away went the big cloud with the blue peg, down and down to Low Farm. Toby carried the little cloud with the white peg indoors and plonked it on Nan’s bed.

“All done!” said Toby. “All by myself!”

“Clever boy,” said Nan. She climbed into bed and lay down on her pillow.

“Hic,” said the pillow.

Drip, went a drop of rain, right on the end of Nan’s nose.

Nan sat up. “Toby,” she said, “why is my pillow hiccuping?”

Toby looked at the pillow. It was small and grey and rather damp, and it had the white peg on it. Then he looked out of the window. Far down the valley, a big white cloud with a blue peg was drifting into the farmyard at Low Farm.

“Oh no,” said Toby. “I mixed up the pegs.”

“Hic,” said the rain cloud, and dripped on Nan again.

Toby’s cheeks went hot. He had wanted Nan to go to bed proud of him. Now she was going to bed wet.

“I’m sorry, Nan,” he said. “I’ll go and fetch your pillow back.”

Nan wiped her nose on her sleeve. “Take the rain cloud with you,” she said. “Then it can go where it was meant to go.”

* * *

Toby sat on the little grey cloud and held the white peg like a handle. Nan stood at the green door with the lamp, and Toby could see its yellow light the whole way down. The cloud drifted slowly, slowly, like a feather on a still day.

Toby patted the cloud. Pat. Pat. Pat.

“Hic,” said the cloud.

And it began to rain. The rain came out of the bottom, so Toby stayed quite dry on top. It rained all over the dry fields of Low Farm. Pitter, patter, pitter, patter.

The rain cloud came to rest by the barn. And there in the doorway was Nan’s pillow, big and white, with the blue peg still on. It had settled in the straw and tucked itself round a small brown calf.

It was Clover. Her ears were floppy. Her legs were still. Her nose went puff, puff into the cloud. Clover was fast asleep.

Toby reached for the blue peg. Then he stopped.

Three nights Clover had wriggled. Three nights she had not slept a wink. If he took the pillow now, she would wake right up.

“Night night, Clover,” said Toby, very quietly. He left the pillow where it was.

When Toby climbed back on, the rain cloud had rained every drop. Now it was puffed up big and white, as dry and soft as a towel off the line. It did not hiccup once. Up it floated, slowly, slowly, all the way to the yellow lamp and the green door.

Toby carried the new cloud in. He told Nan all about Clover. Then he plumped the cloud and fluffed it and turned it over.

“Soft side up,” said Toby.

Nan lay down. She wriggled her head into the cloud. “Oh, Toby,” she said. “This is the best pillow I have ever had. The fields got their rain. Clover got her sleep. And I got a new pillow. That’s the best muddle I ever heard of. I’m proud of you, Toby.”

Then she patted a corner of the pillow. “There’s room for two,” she said.

Toby climbed in beside her.

Down in the valley, the last of the rain pattered on the fields. In the barn, Clover slept on, tucked in her cloud. Up in the cloud house, Nan began to snore. Her snores were so soft that they made little breezes, and the little breezes rocked the house, this way and that way, very gently.

Toby yawned. He laid his head on the soft side of the best pillow in the sky, and by the third little breeze he was fast asleep.

Up in the cloud house and down in the barn, everybody was asleep at last, safe and snug and dry.