Toys Come Home Read Free

and clover
    and everything fresh and lovely and precious.
    It is a special smell for toys that are loved a huge entirely lot.
    Bobby Dot smells like plastic thread and sawdust,
    I know what you’re talking about,
    but that is not my smell at all.”
    Sheep sniffs again. “I like clover,” she says, agreeably. “And geraniums. I would like to chew some one day, but I don’t suppose it’ll ever happen.”
    Since Sheep seems friendly, StingRay asks her to play a game—and Sheep agrees. But before StingRay can read the instructions and get the checkers set up (Sheep hasn’t got flippers or arms that she can use), there is a gentle snore from the other side of the board.
    Sheep is asleep.
    StingRay pokes her new friend with a flipper.
    She barks “Hello!” in Sheep’s felt ear and even pulls her scrawny tail.
    But waking Sheep is impossible.
    Slowly, StingRay puts the checkers back in the box.
    . . . . .
    That night, exhausted, StingRay tries to sleep next to the rocking horse. She creeps across the rug to him and announces, “I’m just going to keep you company here.
    Because you seem like you might be lonely.
    Like, you want to have someone to sleep next to you,
    so the night doesn’t seem so long.
    I am going to help you out with that.”
    She drapes one soft flipper over the lower rail of the horse’s base.
    But it is not very cuddly.
    So she climbs, pushing with her tail and clinging with her flippers, onto the horse’s back, then relaxes into the saddle.
    But it is kind of wobbly.
    She flops onto the horse’s head and flips around to face the other way, so that her long tail trails across his nose and her warm flippers embrace his ears.
    The horse coughs.
    “What?” StingRay whispers.
    “No thank you.”
    “Oh, come on. It’ll be so nice! You won’t feel lonely anymore!”
    “No
thank you,
” says the horse firmly. Then he shakes his head, the way horses do to ward off flies. His mane swings out and his nose arcs through the air and StingRay is flung sharply across the room to land—
    on the high bed with the fluffy pillows.
    Hooray! This is perfect.
    StingRay can sleep with Sheep, Bobby Dot, and the Girl!
    Carefully, carefully she creeps up to the head of the bed. Sheep is clutched in the Girl’s chubby palm, Bobby Dot is under the covers.
    Both of them wake as StingRay settles herself between them.
    “I was dreaming of clover,” mutters Sheep, sleepily.

    “I was dreaming of sharks,” whispers Bobby Dot, irritably.
    “I’m going to sleep on the high bed now!” announces StingRay, trying to sound confident. “Because I’m the Actual Day of Birth Present. We’re all going to be cuddling together from now on!”
    Sheep eyes Bobby Dot. “It’s already a lot more crowded here than it used to be,” she says, meaningfully. “Before the birthday, there was plenty of room in this bed.”
    Bobby Dot eyes Sheep right back. “It would be fine if some people didn’t have hard wooden parts,” he says.
    “It would be fine,” says Sheep, “if some people didn’t have teeth that are way larger than regular teeth that people have. And also if those people with the teeth didn’t talk so much all the time when other people are trying to rest.”
    “I don’t have teeth,” says StingRay. “Or wooden parts. I’m an extremely cuddly stingray. And you won’t believe how quiet I can be.”
    She looks hopefully at Sheep.
    Sheep has already gone back to sleep.
    “
I’m
going to be awake for hours,” complains Bobby Dot. “I can’t believe you woke us like this. Don’t you know it’s sleepytime?”
    Fine then, thinks StingRay.
    Meanie.
    Suddenly, she doesn’t want to cozy up with Bobby Dot and Sheep anymore. She doesn’t want to sleep anywhere in this cold unfriendly room. Or anywhere in this too-big house.
    That’s it. StingRay is running away.
    Right now. Running away forever and ever.
    Without another word to Bobby Dot, she flops off the bed and lurches toward the door.
    She’ll