The Moon Who Needed Checking On

Nell climbs into her small round rocket with the big window seat and flies up past the clouds to visit a lonely moon who has been waiting all night for someone to come and say hello.

The Moon Looks Dim Tonight

Nell was tucking her triceratops into the crook of her arm when she saw it through the window. The moon hung low over the hills, and it looked dim. Not sleepy-dim. Not hiding-behind-a-cloud dim. Dim the way a lamp goes when nobody has come into the room for a long, long while. "You look lonesome," Nell said. The moon did not answer. It just glowed its quiet, pale glow, the way it always did. Nell thought about that. She thought about it while she pulled on her boots. She thought about it while she folded her soft blanket. She thought about it while she put two crackers and a little apple into her pocket, just in case. Somebody should check on it, she decided. Somebody small. Somebody with a rocket. Outside, past the tall ferns, her little round rocket sat on its flat stone, waiting with its round window seat all lit up gold.

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Up in the Round Rocket

Nell opened the rocket hatch and climbed up the little ladder with her triceratops tucked under one arm. She laid her blanket on the window seat, then set her crackers and apple beside it in a neat row. The round door gave a soft click when she pulled it shut. Inside, the rocket felt snug as a nest. Nell sat down by the window and pressed her boots to the floor. Her triceratops sat beside her, one tiny horn pointing at the sky. A button on the wall shone like a star. Nell touched it with one careful finger. The rocket hummed. Then it gave a gentle wobble, like a spoon in warm soup, and rose from the stone pad. Down below, the cave-home became a small dark shape among the ferns. Up ahead, the clouds drifted past the window in soft white stripes. Nell waved as they slipped by. Then a sleepy satellite floated along beside her, round and silver, and Nell waved to that too. Higher and higher went the rocket, until the stars began to blink close to the glass.

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Sitting With the Moon

The rocket slowed. It settled onto the moon with the softest bump, like a sock landing on a pillow. Out the window, everything was quiet. The hills of the moon rolled away, pale and smooth. Nell opened the hatch and stepped down. The moon did not say hello. It only glowed, small and shy, the way a new kid stands at the edge of a room. So Nell did not ask questions. She spread her soft blanket on the moon's cool ground and sat down. Her triceratops sat beside her. She set out one cracker and half the apple. They sat together a long while. Then the moon said, very softly, that it had almost forgotten anyone might come. Nell listened. She gave the moon a small pat. Slowly, slowly, the moon began to glow — bright and warm and round, like a lamp someone had just walked into the room for.

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Waving Goodnight

Nell stood up and gave the moon one last pat. "I'll wave to you every night," she said. "Right from my window. Watch for me." The moon glowed. It glowed so bright that Nell's shadow stretched long and soft across the pale ground. She climbed back into her little round rocket and settled onto her blanket by the window seat. Her triceratops sat beside her. The hatch clicked shut, snug as a nest. The rocket hummed. It lifted off the moon with a gentle wobble, like a spoon in warm soup, and down they sailed, past the sleepy satellite, past the soft white stripes of cloud, past the blinking stars. The valley came up to meet them. The flat stone waited. The rocket settled with the softest bump, like a sock landing on a pillow. Nell tiptoed through the tall ferns, into her cave-home, and climbed into bed. She pulled the blanket up to her chin and tucked her triceratops close. Through the window, the moon shone bright and friendly. Nell raised one small hand and waved goodnight. The moon waved back with its warm, round glow. Nell yawned, and her eyes grew heavy, and she drifted off to sleep.

The end.