The Note by the Garden Gate

Drew wrote his note in big, careful letters so Lottie could read it from her porch.

He sat at the little table beside his front window, with a pencil tucked behind one ear. Outside, the neighborhood street was quiet. A sprinkler had finished its gentle tick-tick-tick, and the last drops slid from the garden leaves. Across the sidewalk stood Lottie’s porch, just two houses away. Between the porches lay a small garden gate with a round wooden knob.

Drew’s note said:

“GOOD NIGHT, LOTTIE! I HOPE YOUR PILLOW IS COOL AND YOUR DREAMS ARE FUNNY. FROM DREW”

At the bottom he drew a moon wearing a tiny hat. It looked a little like a bowl turned upside down, but Drew thought the moon would understand.

He folded the note once and stepped out onto his porch. Lottie sat in her rocking chair, holding a picture book. A porch light shone over her shoulder. Drew lifted his note.

“Good-night delivery!” he called.

Lottie waved. “I’m ready!”

Drew started down the sidewalk. His sneakers made quiet shuff-shuff sounds. At the gate, he stopped to open it. A breeze slipped along the street, curled around his elbows, and tugged the folded note from his hand.

“Wait!” said Drew.

The paper sailed over the low gate and landed on the other side, beside a row of marigolds. It was close enough to see, but not close enough to reach. Drew stretched one arm through the gate’s bars. His fingers fell short.

He tried the other side. Still short.

The gate was too narrow for him to squeeze through, and its latch was shut. Drew didn’t push or shake it. He looked at the note resting safely among the flowers, then at the two porches. Lottie was watching with her book on her lap.

“My note took the scenic route,” Drew said.

Lottie smiled. “Can you get it?”

Drew looked at the paper in his hand—the little sketch he had made while practicing his letters. The breeze had stopped, but the note remained just beyond reach. He wanted to bring Lottie a good-night message before the porch lights went out. So he stood still for a moment and began to think.

Drew looked from the stranded note to the spare paper in his hand. It was wide and light, but if he folded it again and again, perhaps it could become long enough to reach past the gate.

He went back to his porch and found two more sheets on the table. Then he sat on the step and folded the first sheet into a long strip. He folded the second into another strip, then tucked one end through the other, making them hold together. Last, he curled the far end into a small loop.

It was not a fancy tool. It looked like a paper noodle with a ring at its tip.

Drew tested it gently. The strip bent, so he added one more folded sheet and pressed the joins flat with his thumb. Then he carried it to the gate with both hands.

Lottie leaned forward in her chair. “That’s a clever idea,” she said.

Drew slid the paper loop between the gate bars. He moved it slowly over the path, then lowered it toward the note. The loop touched a marigold leaf instead. The leaf bobbed, and Drew drew the paper back.

“Excuse me, flower,” he whispered.

He moved the loop closer to the flowers and lowered it again. The loop passed over the folded note, but when he pulled, it slipped away. Drew paused. The porch lights still shone. He had time to try carefully.

He turned the loop sideways, lowered it around one corner of the note, and eased the paper strip toward himself. The note caught inside the loop. Drew pulled just a little. It slid over the garden path, past the marigolds, and through the bars.

At last, the note rested in his palm.

Drew checked the moon drawing. Its little hat had a speck of dirt on it, but the words were clear. He brushed the speck away with one finger and walked to Lottie’s porch.

“Good-night delivery,” he said, handing her the note.

Lottie read it aloud, then laughed at the moon’s hat. “I have something for you, too.” From her book she took a small square of paper. On it she had drawn a sleepy cat curled inside a teacup.

Drew gave her a clean sheet from his pocket. “Could we each make one drawing?”

Lottie nodded. They sat on their separate porch steps, drawing while the porch lights kept watch over the quiet sidewalk.

Drew drew a little house with a moon above it. He added a square window, a front step, and a very small cat sitting on the roof. The cat looked more like a fuzzy button, but Drew gave it whiskers so no one would mistake it for a button.

Lottie drew a round moon peeking over two rooftops. Beside the moon, she added a small paper noodle with a loop at its end. “That’s your helpful invention,” she said.

Drew held up his drawing. Lottie held up hers. For a moment, their pictures seemed to be saying hello across the sidewalk.

They traded drawings at the garden gate. This time Drew tucked both sheets beneath his arm before the breeze could borrow them. Lottie folded the good-night note along its old crease and handed it back to him.

“Your moon needs a window,” she said. “So it can look in on us.”

Drew added one with his pencil. Then Lottie added a tiny window to her moon picture, too.

The neighborhood grew quieter. A porch light clicked off down the block. Then another. Drew and Lottie listened to the leaves whisper beside the gate. Nothing hurried them. The little street had room for one last good-night.

“See you in the morning,” Lottie said.

“See you then,” Drew replied.

He walked back along the sidewalk, carrying Lottie’s drawing and his note. The paper loop stayed in his other hand, folded neatly into a small bundle. At his porch, he turned and saw Lottie waving from her chair. He waved back, then went inside.

In the front window, Drew placed his note beside Lottie’s drawing. He set the moon with the tiny hat next to the moon peeking over the rooftops. Their two pictures rested side by side, where morning could find them waiting for a quiet look.

Drew put the paper loop on the table, washed the garden dirt from his fingertips, and changed into his pajamas. From his room, he could see the window and the two little drawings. The moon on his note seemed to be keeping the cat on Lottie’s page company.

Drew smiled at them. The porch lights were out now, the street was still, and his good-night had reached exactly where it was meant to go. He settled into bed while the quiet neighborhood held the pictures safe until morning.