Nico Waits for the Round Moon

Pop! A warm bubble popped on the end of Nico's nose. Nico was a small dragon with soft green wings and a tail that curled up like a question mark. He sat in the warm bath, and the water went shhh around his elbows. Cass sat on the bath stool, the way Cass always did.

Out of the round window, the sea was flat and shiny as a plate. The air smelled of salt and rope. Far away, a bell buoy rang. Bong. Bong. Bong. Nico looked up at the sky. It was still light blue, with one pink cloud in it. "Where's the moon?" asked Nico.

Cass came over with a big fluffy towel. Cass was a puffin, and she kept the lighthouse, and she knew all about slow things. "The moon comes when it comes," said Cass. "It comes up slow and round, like a bubble in the bath. You can't hurry a bubble."

Nico thought about that. You can't hurry a bubble. He got out of the bath and stood still while Cass rubbed his wings dry, one wing, then the other. Then he went to his blanket nest by the round window. He patted the blanket flat and pulled his soft crab close.

"Shhh, shhh, shhh," said Nico. "Soon, moon. Soon."

The lighthouse stood at the end of the island in its tall white hat. Every evening it winked at the boats, one slow wink after another. Nico liked the winking. He liked the blanket. He did not like the waiting.

Pop. Cass turned up the lighthouse lamp, and the long beam began to sweep across the water, slow and round. Nico counted the sweeps out loud. "One sweep. Two sweeps. Three." Then he checked the window. No moon. Just a seagull flying home to its rock.

Nico tried to help. He puffed a little breath at the window to blow the moon up faster. Nothing. He counted all the way to ten and looked again. Still no moon. "Waiting is hard," said Nico.

So Nico found a way to wait. He told his soft crab about the day. He told it about the warm bubbles and the pink cloud and the seagull. The crab listened, the way soft crabs do.

"Shhh, shhh, shhh," said Nico. "Soon, moon. Soon." He wiggled his toes under the blanket. He hummed along with the bell buoy. Bong, bong, bong.

Cass brought him a little cup of warm milk and sat down on the floor beside the nest. "Waiting is slow," said Cass. "So let's make it cozy."

They made it cozy. Nico showed Cass the beam. "One sweep, two sweeps, three." Cass showed Nico how to make a sea sound with his mouth, shhh, shhh, shhh, soft as a wave on sand. Then Nico yawned. It was a big, round, squeaky yawn. Yaaawwwn.

Cass hummed a slow hum, low and round, like a bubble going up. Nico hummed too. The nest felt warm as toast.

"Shhh, shhh, shhh," said Nico, softer now. "Soon, moon. Soon."

And then, far out over the water, something small and pale came up. It rose slow and round, like the biggest bubble in the world. Up it came, past the bell buoy, past the seagull's rock, up and up, until it sat right in Nico's round window.

"Cass," whispered Nico. "Look." The moon shone on his blanket. It shone on his soft crab. It shone on Cass's striped beak. Everything went soft and silver, all at once.

The bell buoy rang one last time. Bong. "Shhh, shhh, shhh," said Nico, very sleepy. "Hello, moon." He closed his eyes, and the lighthouse beam swept over him, slow and round, one, two, three.