Sweep, Sweep, Soon, Soon

"Sweep. Sweep. Sweep." The lighthouse light went round and round, out over the water and back again. Mei lay in her little bed under the round window, and her ears went twitch, twitch, twitch. Mei was a small rabbit with a soft grey nose and feet that liked to hop. Tomorrow was her birthday. The window was open a little, and Mei could smell the sea, all salt and rope, and the warm lamp oil from the tower.

She rolled over. She rolled back. "Mama," she whispered. "Is it tomorrow now?" "Not yet," said Mama, from the chair by the door. "One more sleep."

Mei sat up. "But my birthday is tomorrow," she said. "I can't wait. My feet can't wait. My ears can't wait." Her ears went twitch, twitch, twitch.

"I saw my cake," said Mei. "It has three little carrots on top." Mama laughed, soft and low. "That cake has to wait for tomorrow," she said. "And so do you, little rabbit."

The door opened, soft as a wave. In came Opal, the puffin keeper, with her round white front and her little orange feet going pat, pat on the floor. She carried a mug of warm milk. "Shhh," said Opal. "The sea is going shhh outside. Listen." And it was. Shhh, shhh, shhh, went the sea on the sand.

Mei held the warm mug in both paws. Pop! went the little bubble on top of the milk. Mei giggled. "Opal," she said, "how do you wait for tomorrow?" Opal sat on the edge of the bed, and the mattress dipped down. "I play the light game," she said.

"Watch the light," said Opal. "When it comes around, we do one small thing. Then we say our words together." Mei watched. The light came sweeping past the window, slow and bright, and touched the water like a long finger. Together they said, "Sweep, sweep, sweep. Soon, soon, soon."

"Now wiggle your toes," said Opal. Mei wiggled all ten of them, one, two, three, four. "Sweep, sweep, sweep," said the light. "Soon, soon, soon," said Mei and Opal.

"Now stretch your arms," said Opal. Mei stretched them up high and let them come down slow, like a little bridge. "Sweep, sweep, sweep," said the light. "Soon, soon, soon," said Mei and Mama and Opal all together. Mei yawned a small yawn all by herself. Waiting felt warm now, like the mug in her paws.

"Now a big yawn," said Opal. "Yaaaawwwn," went Opal. "Yaaaawwwn," went Mama. "Yaaaawwwn," went Mei, so big that her nose crinkled up and her whiskers shook.

"Now snuggle down," said Opal. Mei snuggled down deep. "Sweep, sweep, sweep," said the light. "Soon, soon, soon," said Mei, and her voice came out slow and soft, like honey. Her ears went still. Not twitchy. Just still.

Far out at sea, the bell buoy said its name. Dong. Dong. "Soon," said Mama. "Pull up your blanket now. The moon is at the window."

Mei pulled up her blanket, the soft one with the little stars on it. "Will my birthday come?" she asked. "It's coming right now," said Opal. "It comes while you sleep. Sleeping is the slowest, softest waiting there is."

Mei's eyes went heavy. Outside, the light went sweep, sweep, sweep. The sea went shhh, shhh, shhh. "One more sleep," said Mama. "One more sleep," whispered Mei. "Soon, soon, soon."

The moon stayed at the window, round and quiet. Her ears lay soft on the pillow. Everything waited together, patient as the sea, and the lighthouse light went round and round and round.