The Window That Would Not Open

Hello, and welcome back to Thimblewick Lane. Snuggle down under your blanket. Rest your head on your pillow, and let your hands lie still. Tonight’s story is called The Window That Would Not Open.

At the very bottom of a big green garden, under the biggest leaf of an old, tall plant, there is a little lane made of smooth, flat pebbles. Grey and white and pale pink. Along each side are tiny shops, no bigger than teapots, with round windows and little doors.

This is Thimblewick Lane.

It had rained a little in the afternoon. Now the pebbles were shiny, and every blade of grass had a tiny drop of water on the end of it, like a bead.

In the teacup bakery, Juniper and Fen were baking the evening bread.

Every night, when the bread was ready, the two wrens opened the round window of the teacup. The warm, sweet smell of bread floated out and drifted all the way down the lane. And that was how everyone on Thimblewick Lane knew that supper was ready.

Tonight, the little loaves came out of the oven golden and round. Juniper clapped her wings.

“Perfect!” she said. “Fen, let’s open the window.”

Fen nodded. He hopped up onto the sill, and he pushed the window with both wings.

It did not move.

He pushed again. Juniper pushed too. The window stayed shut, as still as a stone.

Fen turned to his sister and signed with his wings. He made a little square shape, and then he shook his head slowly. The window is stuck.

“Oh dear,” said Juniper. “If the window won’t open, the smell can’t get out. And if the smell can’t get out, nobody will know the bread is ready.”

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Tap, tap.

It was Pip Hazel the hedgehog, from the button shop. And fluttering beside her, holding a small blue book, was Wisp the young moth.

“Hello!” said Pip. “Wisp is taking her book back to the library. We thought we’d say good evening on the way.”

“Good evening,” said Wisp, in her voice like a feather.

Juniper explained about the window. Pip looked at it carefully, with her head on one side.

“Let’s all push together,” she said. “I’ll count. One… two… three!”

Pip pushed, and Juniper pushed, and Fen pushed. Wisp pushed too, with her two small pale wings.

The window did not move. Not even a tiny bit.

“Let’s ask Nana Moss,” said Juniper. “She knows lots of things.”

So the friends walked down the lane to the old brown boot. She smiled when she saw Wisp.

“You brought the moon book back,” she said. “Thank you, Wisp. Did you like it?”

“I looked at it every day,” said Wisp. “I found three more O’s.”

Then Juniper told Nana Moss about the window that would not open.

Nana Moss nodded slowly. “It rained today,” she said. “When wood gets a little wet, it grows a little fat. Just a tiny bit. And then it fits too tight. It isn’t broken. It just needs something to help it slide.”

“What helps a window slide?” asked Pip.

Nana Moss thought. “Something smooth,” she said. “Something soft and a little bit slippery.”

Then, from outside, came a slow tap, tap, tap of a walking stick on the pebbles. It was Grandpa Odo the toad, the lamplighter, with his long pole and its tiny flame. And on the brim of his hat, holding on tight, was Dewdrop the snail.

“Good evening, friends,” said Grandpa Odo, in his warm, croaky voice. “You all look very thoughtful.”

“We need something smooth and slippery,” said Pip, “to help the bakery window slide.”

Dewdrop looked at everyone with his little eyes on their stalks. Then he looked down at the shiny, silvery line he had left on Grandpa Odo’s hat.

“I… am… very… slippery,” he said slowly.

Everyone looked at each other. And then everyone smiled.

So they all went back up the lane together. Grandpa Odo walked very slowly, so Dewdrop would not wobble.

At the bakery, Grandpa Odo lifted his hat to the window. Dewdrop climbed off, very carefully, onto the edge of the round wooden frame.

And then he began to slide.

He slid slowly, all the way around the edge of the window. And behind him he left a thin, shiny, silvery line.

Nobody hurried him. Juniper and Fen held each other’s wings, and Pip counted softly.

At last, Dewdrop came back to where he started.

“Try… now,” he said.

Fen hopped up onto the sill. He pushed the window very gently with one wing.

And the window went shhhhh. It slid open, smooth and easy, as if it had never been stuck at all.

The warm smell of bread floated out of the teacup and drifted all the way down the lane.

“It worked!” whispered Wisp.

Fen did a happy little hop. Then he turned to Dewdrop, and he signed slowly, so everyone could see. He touched his chin, and then he moved his wing forward and down, as if he was giving someone a present. Thank you.

Wisp watched very closely. Then she did it too. She touched her chin, and moved her wing forward and down.

“Thank you, Dewdrop,” she said. “That’s my second sign.”

Juniper gave everyone a warm little roll. Dewdrop’s was the smallest, about the size of a crumb, which was exactly the right size for him.

While they ate, Nana Moss pointed to the bakery window. “Wisp,” she said, “would you like to learn a new letter tonight?”

Wisp nodded.

Nana Moss drew a shape in the air with her paw. Down, up, down, up. “This is W,” she said. “W for window. And W for… Wisp.”

Wisp’s wings trembled. “That’s my letter,” she said. “It’s the very first letter of my name.”

“So it is,” said Nana Moss.

Now Wisp knew four letters. And two signs.

The sky above the big leaf had turned from pale grey to soft blue, and then to a deep, quiet purple. A cricket began to sing, very softly, far away.

Grandpa Odo picked up his long pole and lifted his hat for Dewdrop.

“Well, friends,” he said. “It is time to light the lamps.”

---