The Night of the Towers
From the valley, a road climbed the hill. Lemony flew ahead. A little ahead, and then she waited. A little ahead, and then she waited.
The family climbed after her. Leaves were falling slowly. One by one.
At the top of the hill was a small town with seventeen towers. Animals lived in the town. Owls and snails. Giraffes and tortoises. And many, many others.
That town had no name. It had always been that way.
By the time they reached the first houses, night had fallen. The owl saw them first.
“Hoo-hoo! Lemony is back!” said the owl. “Where have you been?”
“On a terrace, frozen,” sang Lemony. “Tee-ree-ree. And someone found me.”
The owl looked at Mom. In Mom's arms someone small was sleeping. Small, so very small, wrapped in a blanket.
“Hoo-hoo. The little one?”
“The little one,” said Lemony. “She saw me. And she warmed me with her breath.”
“She's our little girl,” Dad whispered. “She's only twelve days old.”
Just then, a light came on in the first tower. Then in the second. Then in the third. Tower by tower, all seventeen towers lit up.
The animals came to their windows. The snail poked out its horns. The giraffe bent its long neck. The tortoise came out slowly, slowly, from its shell.
“Hoo-hoo,” said the owl. “What is her name?”
“Siena,” said Mom.
The animals looked at one another. They whispered something, from window to window, from tower to tower.
“She saved our Lemony,” said the owl. “Our town has no name. From today, it will have hers. The town of Siena.”
Mom smiled. Dad smiled. Kiwi wagged his tail, hard, hard. Even Mango wagged his tail. A little.
“Hoo-hoo. And one more thing,” said the owl. “A gift from the whole town.”
The owl flew down beside the blanket. And blew softly into Siena's ears. Fff, into one. Fff, into the other.
“From today, the little one will understand all the animals,” said the owl. “Here, with us. And there, in her own home.”
Mango grumbled something.
Mom heard only: hrmm.
Dad heard only: hrmm.
But Siena heard: “All right, all right. Can we go home now? My paws are cold.”
Lemony settled on the edge of the blanket and sang softly. Tee-ree-ree.
And little Siena yawned. Just that. A small yawn, so very small.
Tower by tower, the town of Siena fell asleep.
Goodnight, Siena.