The Apple in the Brook

It was a sun-warm morning by the glittering brook. Vanna, a little otter with a sandy nose, splashed water and laughed. Beside her Spike, a round hedgehog with soft steps, tramped on flat stones that were warm as pancakes. Pip, a blue little bird with bright eyes, swung on a green branch and sang: "Pip-pip, what a day!" The water murmured, the grass smelled sweet, and the sky was so big it tickled in the stomach when you looked up.

Spike carried a big, shiny apple he had found. "It's my best," he said and hugged it carefully. Vanna wanted to show a spin with her tail. She spun once, twice, three times – "Swoosh!" Water splashed. The apple rolled from Spike's arms, bounced on a stone and "plop!" right into the brook. "My apple!" called Spike. The apple began to sail away like a little red boat.

Vanna became completely still. "Sorry, Spike," she said in a small voice. "We'll get it together," chirped Pip and fluttered down. Spike sniffed. "Together," he said. They ran along the brook. Vanna swam by the edge, Spike trotted on the stones, and Pip flew high and scouted. "It's floating toward the crooked stick!" called Pip. "Hurry!"

Vanna stretched her paws, but the water was faster than her small swimming strokes. "I can't reach!" she called. Spike took a long stick. "I'll poke," he said and balanced with his tongue sticking out. The stick was too short. "Pip-pip, I'll get something longer!" called Pip and flew off.

Pip came back with a reed that was bent and soft, almost as long as Vanna. "Great!" said Vanna. "I'll hold the middle, Spike holds the end, and Pip shows the way." They positioned themselves like a team by the water. "A little to the left," said Pip. "A little forward... now!" Vanna dipped the reed. It touched the apple. "I feel it!" she said. But the brook pushed, and Vanna slipped. "Oh!"

She slid down, and the water grabbed her. "I've got you!" called Spike and grabbed Vanna's tail. "Ouch, a little prickly," giggled Vanna, "but hold tight!" Spike stood steady and pressed his paws against the stones. They were slippery, but he didn't give up. Pip flew straight over the apple and pecked at the reed. "Here! This way!" he called. Vanna kicked, Spike held, and together they steered the reed under the apple like a spoon under a meatball.

"Up!" said Vanna. The reed lifted, the apple rolled toward the edge and landed in Spike's arms with a wet "schlop!" All of them caught their breath and then began to laugh. Vanna hugged Spike. "Sorry for the spin." Spike hugged back. "Thanks for saving my best." Pip did a little victory dance in the air. "We're a good team," he said.

They sat in the grass. Vanna dried her nose. Spike dried the apple on his soft belly. "We'll share," said Spike and carefully broke along a small crack he found. They munched and let the sun's warmth dry their paws and feathers. The water continued to murmur, but now it sounded like music to their laughter.

Then they carried stone after stone and built a little stepping path over the brook. "A friendship path," said Vanna. "So we can help each other get across." Pip picked small flowers and laid them on the edge. "And here's a flag," he said and stuck a feather into a crack. Spike smiled so big his eyes almost disappeared. "Next time you spin, Vanna, you call first," he said. "Next time your apple runs away, I'll run first," answered Vanna.

When the day began to feel tired they went home together. Behind them the friendship path glittered. The brook rushed softly, and on a branch hung Pip's feather flag and waved. They knew that if something rolled away again, no one would have to run alone.