Back Where It Belongs

The ferry was trapped beneath the outer edge of the landing stage. Whenever a ripple crossed the water, its roof knocked against the beam. The lamp was still on, though you could barely see it in daylight.

“Don't reach underneath,” Grandad said. “I can get it from here.”

The children moved behind the bench to give him room. With the boat hook, he gently nudged the model towards the opening beside the landing stage.

But it stopped short. A reed stalk lay across the back of it.

“The string's caught!” Bente pointed. Now Noor could see it too: a thin white thread pulled tight between the boat and the reeds.

Grandad lowered the hook. “Well spotted.” He pushed the model back a little, loosening the string. Then he used the tip of the hook to lift it over the broken stalk.

Sami held the crate ready. Grandad drew the ferry towards him and set it on the towel. Water sloshed across the deck. One of the passengers had fallen face first against a window.

Bente lifted the red boots off the roof. The glue had come loose. “These are staying indoors from now on.”

Back in the library, she dabbed the deck with kitchen paper. Sami blew gently through the open doorway. Noor found the fallen passenger and put him back in his window seat.

Grandad switched off the lamp. Then he tied a new string to the front of the boat. He redid the knot twice and asked Bente to give it a good tug.

Just before the exhibition opened, the ferry was back on its blue river. Bente put the boots beside the captain. “He's probably used to having two left feet.”

Noor slipped her receipt under the board so it wouldn't blow away.

“Could we put that on display too?” the librarian asked. “Then people can see how you found it.”

A man carrying a wet umbrella bent over the drawing. He pointed to the yellow circle above the white line.

“Is that an egg on toast?”

Sami looked at Noor. She took back the receipt, picked up a pencil and carefully added two red boots.