Peeky

There was a new fluff at the gate.

Peeky saw from the window, and Peeky's whole inside went fizzy and warm and terrible all at once, because Peeky wanted to go and say hello more than anything in the world, and also could not possibly.

Here is the trouble with being Peeky. Inside Peeky's head are the funniest jokes in Candyfloss Land. Peeky has noticed everything about everybody, because Peeky listens more than anyone. Peeky has whole conversations ready to go.

They just get stuck somewhere between the head and the mouth, and then Peeky's paws come up over Peeky's face, and that is that.

Peeky went out to the garden, stood a long way from the gate, and looked at a stone.

Bravo wandered past. "Going to say hi?"

"I can't," said Peeky, from behind both paws. "What if I say it wrong? What if they don't hear me and I have to say it again? What if they think I'm strange?"

"Alright," said Bravo. "So don't do all that. Just do one word."

"One word?"

"One. Not a conversation. Not a joke. One word, and then you can come straight back here and stand by this stone as long as you like."

Peeky thought about it for quite a long time.

Then Peeky walked to the gate, on legs that felt like jelly, and looked at the new fluff's shoes, and said:

"Um... hi."

That was all. Peeky turned round and went straight back to the stone, heart hammering.

And behind Peeky, a voice said: "Hi! I'm Newby. I don't know anybody here."

Peeky stopped.

I don't know anybody here. Peeky knew that feeling better than any feeling in the world.

Peeky turned round. The second sentence was easier than the first one had been, and the third was easier than that, and by teatime Peeky had done a joke, and Newby had laughed so hard that Newby fell over a watering can.