Grandpa's Squeaky Boots

"Squeak, squeak, squeak."

Lucas heard it from the porch before he saw anything. He dropped his crayon and ran to the window. "Grandpa's coming!"

Lucas wanted one thing. He wanted to be the first to say hello. Grandpa always gave the first hello a hug that lifted your sneakers right off the ground.

But the bell at the end of the lane was going to ring soon. That was how Lucas knew it was time to wash up for supper. After the bell, everyone ran for the table. Nobody stood in the road.

Lucas ran down the lane. Squeak, squeak, squeak. The sound came from the big wide tree where the family had picnics. But when he got there, nobody was under it.

"Grandpa?" he called.

Squeak, squeak, squeak.

Lucas looked left. He looked right. He tried hiding behind the trunk, and he tried waiting very still. Nothing. Grandpa was somewhere else.

Then Lucas looked down. On the grass there were glowing footprints, faint and silver, like tiny moons. Everyone in the village knew that footprints glowed for one hour after they were made. Nobody thought it was strange.

"Footprints don't squeak," said Lucas. "Boots do. So I just have to follow them."

He followed the moons round the tree, past the gate, and up to the barn. At the barn door he stopped. Squeak, squeak, squeak.

Lucas peeked in. There sat a little brown duck on an upside-down bucket. Every time she wiggled, the bucket squeaked.

"Oh!" Lucas laughed. "You're not Grandpa!"

"Quack," said the duck, and she wiggled again. Squeak.

Just then, the bell rang. Ding-dong, ding-dong!

Lucas turned around. Behind him stood Grandpa, with his arms open wide. His boots went squeak, squeak, squeak.

"Sorry, Grandpa," said Lucas. "I wanted to be first."

"You were," said Grandpa. "You found me before I found you."

He lifted Lucas high, and Lucas's sneakers swung in the air. The duck quacked, the bucket squeaked, and the bell kept ringing across the glowing grass.