Puddle Drum Elsie

"Plink," said something on the garden shed roof, and Elsie looked up from her bucket of chalk.

"Was that a raindrop?" she asked.

Her scarecrow, Mr Tatters, slowly turned his sack face towards the grey clouds. In this garden, he always turned to face whatever was coming. Nobody thought it strange. Elsie's gran only nodded and went on hanging up her socks.

Elsie wanted one thing. She wanted to finish her chalk rainbow on the path before the rain came. She had worked on it all morning. Red, orange, yellow, and she still needed green, blue and purple. If the rain came first, her rainbow would run away down the path.

"Quick," said Elsie. "Quick, quick."

She drew green as fast as she could. Plink. Plink. A drop landed on the blue. It made a dark spot.

Elsie ran to get the big umbrella. But the wind tipped it over, and her chalk rolled away. Now the sky smelled sharp and sweet, like wet earth and cut grass.

"That's the smell of rain," said Gran. "It comes before the rain does."

Elsie sniffed. The smell was already here. She was too late!

She sat down on the step. Then she noticed something. The drops did not fall on the path under the shed roof.

"The roof!" said Elsie.

She grabbed the chalk, and she grabbed the old tin washing tub. She turned it upside down over the unfinished purple, like a little round roof. Then she stood the broom up and leaned the umbrella on it, so it covered the blue.

Pat, pat, pat. The rain came down on the tub.

"Listen," said Elsie. "It's a drum!"

Mr Tatters's hat dripped too, with a tiny plip on his nose. Elsie laughed and tapped the tub along with the rain.

Her rainbow sat dry and bright underneath. Outside, the puddles bubbled, and the whole garden smelled of rain.