Rumble in the Boot

Freddie found a hedgehog asleep in his wellington boot.

It was the middle of the night. He had come downstairs for a drink of water, and there by the back door was one boot with a round, prickly bottom sticking out of the top.

"Oh," whispered Freddie. "Hello."

The hedgehog did not say hello. It had come in out of the rain, and it was curled up as tight as a conker.

Freddie wanted to see its face. He had never seen a hedgehog's face, not once.

He tried whispering. "Hello, hedgehog. It's only me."

Nothing happened.

Then the sky said, Boom. The window shook. The hedgehog went tighter still.

Freddie tried a biscuit crumb. He put it on the mat by the boot. The hedgehog did not move. Rain pattered on the glass.

Boom, said the sky again, louder.

Freddie sat down on the cold floor. He listened. After every boom, it went quiet for a moment, and then the rain came back, soft and quick. Pitter, pitter, pitter.

He had an idea.

The next time the sky said boom, Freddie said it back, low and slow, down in his tummy. "Rummmble."

It sounded like a big, friendly cat purring.

Boom, said the sky.

"Rummmble," said Freddie.

Boom.

"Rummmble."

Something wriggled in the boot. A little black nose came out, then another bit of nose, then two bright eyes. The hedgehog sniffed the crumb. Then it sneezed, and the boot gave a squeaky squeak.

Freddie put both hands over his mouth to keep from laughing.

Boom, said the sky, far away now, and sleepy.

"Rummmble," said Freddie, very softly.

The hedgehog ate its crumb. Then it turned around once in the boot, found the warm place at the bottom, and went still. Outside, the rain went pitter, pitter, pitter, and the snuffling in the boot grew slow and even.