On a small round Planet called Puddle-Pop, the hills were purple, the clouds were orange, and the lakes made tiny bubble sounds: plip, plop, plip.
A boy named Ferris Alligator Megadon lived in a blue boot-shaped house beside a moonberry bush. Ferris was small, curious, and very kind. He wore a yellow helmet for adventures, even at breakfast. He also carried a red crayon in his pocket. “A good crayon can help with almost anything,” he liked to say.
One bright morning, Ferris opened his window and gasped.
The purple hills were gray.
The orange clouds were gray.
Even the bubble lake was gray.
“Oh, crumbs and crackers!” said Ferris. “Our Planet has lost its colors!”
From behind the moonberry bush came a huge sneeze.
“ACHOO-OO-OO!”
It was Giant, Ferris’s neighbor. Giant was tall enough to tickle the clouds with his hair. But he was gentle and careful. He wore green slippers the size of little boats.
“Sorry,” Giant said softly. “My nose knows something is wrong. The colors have rolled away toward Crater Hill.”
Then a pale, floating shape peeked out of Ferris’s chimney. It was Ghost. Ghost was not scary. Ghost was shy, polite, and a little bit ticklish. When Ghost laughed, tiny silver stars fell from Ghost’s sleeves.
“I heard a sad rumble in the night,” whispered Ghost. “It came from the cave under Crater Hill. It said, ‘No colors! No colors!’”
Ferris put on his yellow helmet. “Then we will go there. We will bring the colors home.”
Giant bent down. “I can carry us.”
Ghost floated up. “I can light the dark places.”
Ferris tapped his red crayon. “And I can draw ideas.”
So the three friends set off across the gray Planet.
First they crossed the Bubble Lake. Without its blue color, the lake looked like a giant bowl of sleepy porridge. Giant stepped very carefully, but one slipper went squelch.
“Squelch!” said Giant.
“Squelch!” said the lake.
Ferris giggled. Ghost tried not to laugh, but a little laugh escaped.
“Pffft-he-he!”
Silver stars sprinkled onto the lake. At once, a trail of shining stepping-stones appeared.
“Your laugh made a path!” said Ferris.
Ghost blushed almost see-through. “Perhaps my laugh is braver than I am.”
They tiptoed over the stars and reached Crater Hill. At its top stood a cave shaped like a grumpy mouth. From inside came a sound:
“Grrrrr-umble. Grrrrr-umble.”
Ferris’s knees felt wobbly. Giant’s big hands felt wobbly too. Ghost floated close to Ferris’s helmet.
“We can be scared together,” Ghost said. “Together is less scary.”
Ferris nodded. “Yes. We can take one small step.”
One small step went clomp.
Another small step went whoosh.
A third small step went squeak, because Ferris’s boot had found a squeaky pebble.
Inside the cave, Ghost made a gentle moonlight glow. The walls were covered with empty, gray paintings: gray flowers, gray birds, gray suns, and gray rainbows.
At the very back sat Monster.
Monster was round and fuzzy, with six soft feet, two droopy ears, and eyes as big as soup bowls. Monster held a giant glass jar against Monster’s tummy. Inside the jar swirled all the Planet’s colors: purple, orange, blue, pink, gold, green, and red.
Ferris swallowed. “Hello, Monster. Did you take the colors?”
Monster gave a little growl. “Mine.”
Giant did not shout. Giant sat down slowly, so the cave did not shake. “Why do you need so many colors?”
Monster hugged the jar tighter. “Because I have none. My cave is dull. Everyone sees me and runs away. So I wanted the pretty things all for me.”
Ghost floated nearer, though Ghost was trembling. “We did not run away,” Ghost said.
Monster blinked. “You came closer.”
“We came to help,” said Ferris. He looked at the gray cave walls. Then he pulled out his red crayon. “What if we make your cave beautiful without taking the Planet’s colors?”
Monster’s droopy ears lifted a little. “Can you?”
“I do not know yet,” Ferris said honestly. “But we can try.”
Ferris drew a small red flower on one wall. It was not a perfect flower. One petal looked like a silly spoon. Monster stared at it.
“That flower has a spoon petal,” Monster said.
“It does,” Ferris agreed.
Monster made a tiny sound. “Huh.”
Giant took off one green slipper and dabbed it on the cave floor. It left a large green circle.
“A lily pad!” Giant said. “My slipper is good at painting.”
Ghost twirled in the air and laughed a brave laugh.
“Pffft-he-he-he!”
Silver stars flew all around. Wherever a star landed, it became a bright dot of light. Soon the cave ceiling looked like a friendly night sky.
Monster’s mouth made a small smile. “I like that.”
“Your turn,” said Ferris, offering the crayon.
Monster was unsure. Monster had never made anything before. One fuzzy hand reached out. Then Monster drew a crooked yellow sun beside Ferris’s spoon-petal flower.
“It is a sunny flower,” said Monster.
“It is wonderful,” said Ghost.
Monster drew more. Blue puddles. Pink fish with boots. Orange clouds wearing hats. Giant painted wide green trees with his slipper. Ferris added red doors to the trees, because perhaps tiny mice needed houses. Ghost added silver stars everywhere.
The cave became the brightest, silliest, coziest cave on Puddle-Pop Planet.
Monster looked at the glass jar. “If I open it, will the colors leave me?”
Ferris thought carefully. “Some colors will go back to the hills and lake. But you can have your own colors in your paintings. And you can make more whenever you want.”
Giant added, “And you can visit us. I have purple jam.”
Ghost said, “And I have star stickers. Lots of star stickers.”
Monster’s soup-bowl eyes grew shiny. “Friends? For me?”
“Friends for you,” said Ferris.
Monster smiled a big, fuzzy smile. Monster unscrewed the jar lid.
Whoooosh!
Purple raced out and wrapped the hills in velvet. Orange jumped into the clouds. Blue splashed into Bubble Lake. Gold bounced across the grass. Red zoomed into Ferris’s crayon and made it gleam. The whole Planet sang, “Plip! Pop! Hooray!”
Then something surprising happened. At the bottom of the jar, beneath the last swirl of green, lay a tiny treasure chest. It had a silver star lock.
Ghost gave a happy squeak. “A chest!”
Monster opened it with one careful claw. Inside were three marvelous gifts. For Giant, there was a little paintbrush that could paint neat pictures, even in giant-sized hands. For Ghost, there was a bell that made warm lantern lights instead of spooky sounds. For Ferris, there was a box of twelve magic crayons.
Each crayon could draw one real thing for one whole day.
Ferris opened the box slowly. There was a blue crayon, a gold crayon, a green crayon, and even a sparkly purple crayon.
“A good crayon can help with almost anything,” Ferris whispered.
Monster received a fourth gift: a bright sign for the cave door. It said, “MONSTER’S COLOR CLUB. FRIENDS WELCOME.”
That evening, the four new friends had a picnic outside the colorful cave. Giant brought purple jam sandwiches. Ghost rang the lantern bell, and soft lights bobbed around them. Monster made orange-cloud hats from paper. Ferris drew a little table with his magic brown crayon, and for that one day, it became a real table with four wobbly legs.
They laughed when one leg wobbled so much that the jam sandwiches slid into Giant’s lap.
“Best picnic ever,” said Giant.
Ferris looked at the bright Planet, at shy Ghost glowing bravely, at gentle Giant painting carefully, and at Monster sharing the colors.
He felt proud, but not because he had been the biggest or loudest. He felt proud because he had listened, tried, and invited someone lonely to join in.
Before bed, Ferris put his magic crayons beside his yellow helmet.
“Tomorrow,” he said, “we will draw a purple kite.”
From Crater Hill, Monster called, “With a spoon-petal flower on it!”
“Of course!” Ferris called back.
Above them, the orange clouds drifted by, wearing their new hats, and Puddle-Pop Planet shone brighter than ever.