Sorry on the Bench

Liam wanted to say sorry to Pip, and he did not know how to start.

Pip was his best friend, a small brown rabbit who lived under the big oak. This morning Liam had grabbed Pip's red kite and run off with it. The string had snapped. Now the kite was stuck high in the apple tree, and Pip had gone home with wet eyes.

Liam stood under the tree and looked up. The kite fluttered. Flap, flap.

"I'll get it down," he said.

He jumped. He could not reach. He fetched a stick, but the stick was too short. He pushed the heavy log from the woodpile, but it was too heavy to push alone. It would not move.

"Sorry, kite," Liam said. That was not right. The kite was not the one who was cross.

He sat on the log. He thought about Pip. He thought about Pip's wet eyes.

Then he noticed something. On the grass lay a little brown feather of fur, caught on a twig. Pip had been standing right here, looking up at his kite. Liam looked closer. Pip had waited a long time.

"Oh," said Liam. "He wanted his kite more than anything."

He did not need to climb. He needed to go and find Pip.

Liam walked to the big oak and knocked on the round door. Knock, knock.

The door opened a crack. One long ear came out. Then one eye.

"I took your kite," Liam said. "I ran off with it, and it broke. I'm sorry, Pip. I'm really sorry."

Pip said nothing for a moment. Then his nose twitched.

"Is it still in the tree?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Then I'll stand on your shoulders," said Pip, "and you can stand on the log."

They walked back together. Liam climbed up on the log, and Pip hopped onto his shoulders, light as a leaf. The log wobbled. Pip stretched his paw and the kite slipped free and floated down, soft as a sigh.

Pip hugged it. Liam sat on the log beside him, and the kite string trailed over both their feet.