Mia and the Fair Windmill

"Hold Pip very gently," said Grandpa, and he set the little yellow chick in Mia's hands. "I'll be back for supper tomorrow. You look after him until then."

Then Grandpa went off to see his sister, and Mia was left holding the softest thing in the world. She wanted Grandpa back. Her tummy felt hollow, like a cookie jar with nothing in it.

So she took Pip to the fair, because the fair was where Grandpa always took her. There were striped tents, and a carousel that never stopped turning. Far at the edge stood the old windmill. It turned backward whenever nobody looked at it. Everyone knew that. Nobody minded.

Mia stood by the carousel and looked for Grandpa's red hat. She saw one! But the man under it was a stranger, and he winked at her.

"Not him," she whispered.

She tried something else. She cupped her hands around Pip and shouted, "Grandpa!"

The carousel music went oompah-oompah-BOOM. Nobody heard her. Pip shook all over and pushed his beak into her thumb.

"Oh, Pip. I'm sorry," said Mia. Her eyes felt hot.

Then she noticed something. Pip had gone still and was listening. She remembered how Grandpa whistled when he sewed on her buttons, a slow little tune. She couldn't whistle yet, so she hummed it, very softly, right against Pip's feathers.

Pip peeped. It was a tiny peep, in the same place as the tune.

Mia hummed again. Peep, went Pip.

The big music still went round and round, but it felt far away now. Grandpa is far, but the tune is near. She hummed it again, and again Pip answered.

Behind her, the windmill turned backward, slow and creaky, because nobody was watching it. Mia didn't look. She sat on the warm grass with the yellow chick in her hands, humming, and listened to him peep along.