The Lantern Tent on the Roof

"Lanterns on at dark, Freddie," Gran called up the stairs, "and not one minute before!" So Freddie took his blanket and climbed to the roof garden to wait.

He loved the roof garden. Paper lanterns hung on strings over the beans and the sunflowers. When they were lit, they glowed like little moons. Freddie wanted to see them glow more than anything.

But it was the longest day of summer, and the sun would not go down.

"Please hurry up," Freddie told it. The sun stayed where it was.

He shut his eyes tight and counted to a hundred. When he opened them, the sky was still bright. He lit one lantern anyway. It looked pale and plain, like a paper bag.

"Hmm," said Freddie.

Just then, the neighbour's rooster hopped onto the wall. He crowed the time backwards, the way he always did. "Clock-o nine! Clock-o nine!" Then he flapped down into the bean rows, because that was where he slept.

Freddie watched him fluff up his feathers in the leaves, where it was shady and cool. Shady. Freddie looked at the beans. Then he looked at his blanket.

He stretched the blanket over the tall bean poles. He tucked the corners under flowerpots. Then he crawled inside with the little lit lantern, and it glowed gold and soft, like a tiny moon.

"Oh!" said Freddie.

He brought in a second lantern, and a third. Gran climbed up with two biscuits and squeezed in too. The rooster ruffled his feathers and shuffled in beside her, as if the tent had been built for him.

"Clock-o ten," he murmured, very sleepily.

Outside, the sun finally slid down behind the chimneys. Inside, the lanterns hummed with warm light. Freddie leaned on Gran's shoulder and listened to the rooster's soft, bubbling snores.