Noah and the Red String

Noah wanted his new baby sister to smile at him.

Her name was Rosie, and she was as small as a loaf of bread. She lay in a basket by the window, wrapped in a yellow blanket. Mostly she slept. When she was awake, she looked at the ceiling.

"Smile at me, Rosie," said Noah.

Rosie blinked.

Noah made a fish face. He puffed his cheeks and wiggled his fingers by his ears. Rosie looked at the ceiling.

So he tried something different. He got her rattle and shook it. Shake, shake, shake. Rosie's mouth went square.

"Waaah!"

"Oh no. Too loud," said Noah. He hid the rattle behind his back. "Smile at me, Rosie."

Just then a brown bird landed on the windowsill. It had a red string in its beak. In this town, birds carried small things from nest to nest, and nobody thought it was strange. The bird never went the same way twice. Yesterday it had flown in circles. Today it hopped sideways along the sill. Hop, hop, hop, with the string trailing behind.

Noah heard a little sound. Rosie had turned her head. She was not looking at the ceiling. She was watching the bird.

"You like the hopping," whispered Noah.

He did not shake or shout. He tucked his elbows in like wings and hopped sideways across the rug. Hop, hop, hop. He made his face very serious, like a bird with an important job.

Rosie's eyes followed him.

Then his sneaker caught the edge of the rug, and Noah went down.

Plop!

He lay on his back with his elbows still flapping. Outside, the bird flew off with its string, over the roof and away.

Rosie's mouth opened wide. It had no teeth in it at all. Her whole face crinkled, and out came a tiny squeaky laugh.

Noah lay very still, so he would not miss another one.