Lucas and the Last Cushion

"I am so sleepy," said Lucas the bear, and he yawned a big, wide, wobbly yawn.

Lucas wanted to sleep in his cushion fort. He had built it that afternoon from every cushion in the house. There were red ones, round ones and one with a tassel. The walls were tall and the roof was soft. All that was missing was one cushion for his head.

He looked around. There was only one left, and a goose was sitting on it.

"Excuse me," said Lucas. "I need that cushion for my head."

"Honk," said the goose. "I'm keeping my egg warm. It's my cushion tonight."

Lucas tried to be patient. "Just one more yawn," he said, and he yawned. Then he tried a trade. He gave the goose a cushion from the fort wall. She sat on it for a moment and shook her head. "Too lumpy." Plop. It rolled away, and a piece of the wall fell down with it.

Lucas sat down in the gap. His eyes were nearly closed. Then he noticed something. The goose was shivering. Her feathers trembled, and the wind came in through the hole in the wall.

"Oh," said Lucas. "You're cold."

"A little," said the goose.

Lucas thought hard. He couldn't take her cushion, and he couldn't sleep without one. But he was very big, and very furry, and very warm.

He fixed the wall. Then he curled up around the goose, like a big brown blanket. She stopped shivering. The egg sat snug in the middle, safe as a nut in its shell.

Lucas leaned his head against her soft, feathery side. It was just as good as a cushion.

"Good night, goose," he whispered.

"Honk," said the goose, very quietly.

Lucas yawned one more time. Under his cheek, the goose's breathing went slow and soft, and he felt it go up and down, up and down, like a small, warm hill.