Ravi and the Soft, Soft Dark

"Plip." A warm drop of bathwater slid off Ravi's ear and landed on the floor. Ravi was a small rabbit with long soft ears and a fluffy white tail. He sat in the warm bath and blew a bubble off his nose. "Pop."

Mama wrapped him up in a towel. The towel smelled of fresh laundry. She rubbed his ears dry, one and then the other. Cleo, his little sister, hopped by in her pajamas. "Bedtime," said Mama.

Ravi's room was high on the soft cloud hill. His window was round like a plate. Ravi climbed under his blanket and pulled it up to his chin. He tucked his cuddly sheep in next to him. Then Mama turned off the big light.

The room went dim. The corners went dark. Ravi pulled his blanket over his head. He did not like the dark. It was too big. "It's too big," he whispered.

Mama sat on the edge of the bed. "Listen," she said. "The dark is full of soft things. Let's listen together."

"Shhh," went the wind in the cloud grass outside. It sounded like a big soft broom. "Shhh, shhh," said Mama. "The dark is soft." Ravi said it too. "The dark is soft."

Then came a slow, soft sound. "Creak," went the balloon basket out on the hill. It rocked, and it creaked, and then it stopped. "Shhh, shhh. The dark is soft," said Ravi.

"Look," said Mama. She pointed at the round window. The moon was shining up through the clouds from below. It was big and round and pale as milk. "The moon is a night light for everyone," said Mama.

The smell of warm milk came up the stairs. The smell of fresh laundry came too. Ravi sniffed with his small pink nose. "Mmm," he said. "Warm milk."

Then Ravi heard one more sound. It was small and round. "Hoo," went the sleepy bird in the cloud tree. "Hoo, hoo." Ravi smiled in the dark. "Shhh, shhh," he said. "The dark is soft."

The door went creak and Cleo came in, dragging her blanket behind her. "I want the soft dark too," she said. She put one paw on Ravi's bed.

"No," said Ravi. He pulled his blanket around himself, tight as a nest. "It's mine."

Cleo sat down on the rug. She pulled her blanket over her knees and hummed a small hum. The room felt bigger and darker without her by the bed. Ravi peeked out at the moon. The moon shone on Cleo too. It shone on everyone, and it never ran out.

Ravi thought about that. Then he lifted up his blanket. "Cleo," he said. "Come in. There's room for two."

"Pop!" said Cleo, and she hopped in. Two rabbits in one bed. Their ears bumped. "Oof," said Cleo. Then she giggled. Ravi giggled too. It was warmer with two. It was funnier with two.

They pulled the blanket up over their heads like a little tent. Out of the tent they peeked at the window. "Shhh, shhh," they said together. "The dark is soft."

Cleo yawned a big yawn. "Yawwwn." Then Ravi yawned too. The yawn jumped from one rabbit to the other.

Mama came back. She kissed two heads. "Goodnight, my two," she said. She left the door open a crack. A thin line of light lay on the floor like a ribbon.

Ravi's eyes grew heavy. Cleo's ears drooped down. The balloon basket creaked, slow and low. The moon shone up through the clouds. The wind said shhh, shhh, shhh.

"Shhh," said the night. "Shhh, shhh." And the soft dark tucked them both in.