Gusset’s Knightly Parade

Gusset’s helmet went bonk on one horn, boing on the other, and landed upside down on his tail.

“Almost perfect,” he said, peering at the helmet from beneath his tail. “It only needs to face the right way.”

Dot, a tiny castle mouse, peeked out from behind a stack of party ribbons. “Is that the knight costume you wanted?”

“It is!” Gusset grinned. “Tonight’s costume party is going to have a parade. I want to march at the front like Sir Gusset the Brave.” He gave a proud little stomp. A ribbon spool rolled across the hall, and Gusset caught it with his tail before it reached the punch bowl.

The castle hall was dressed for the party. Paper flags ran from pillar to pillar. A cardboard dragon guarded the doorway, though its painted smile made it look more like it wanted a cookie. Around the room, guests tried on costumes: a cook wore a crown, a frog wore a floppy hat, and the castle’s old hound had put on two capes by mistake.

Dot helped Gusset pull on the knight’s tunic. It stopped halfway over his wings. The helmet sat crooked between his horns. The belt wouldn’t go around his long tail, and the little metal-looking shoulder plates pinched his wing joints.

Gusset wriggled. The tunic squeaked. One wing popped out, then the other. The belt snapped loose and landed in the punch bowl with a plip.

“Oh,” said Gusset. His grin slipped away. “I wanted to look like a knight. Maybe this costume just isn’t for me.”

Dot climbed onto a nearby footstool and studied the tunic. “Why does the costume have to fit you exactly as it is?” she asked. “Couldn’t we change the costume instead of changing you?”

Gusset looked at his horns, his wings, and the belt floating like a tiny raft in the punch. Then he looked at Dot.

“Dot,” he said, “that is a very small question with a very big idea inside it.”

Gusset fetched the sewing basket from the costume table. Dot carried a spool of thread between both paws, walking carefully so it wouldn’t roll away. Together they spread the tunic on the floor.

“First,” said Gusset, “my wings need room.” He marked two spots with bits of chalk. Dot snipped neat openings there, and Gusset folded the edges back while she stitched them in place. He tried the tunic again. His wings slid through without a squeak.

“Now the horns,” said Dot. She cut two little slits in the helmet’s padded lining. Gusset tugged the helmet down. It settled on his head, horns poking through like two proud handles.

The belt needed more than a little stitch. Gusset found a strip of soft red cloth and tied it around the tunic instead. For his tail, he added a bright blue sash with a loop at the end. “A knight needs a flag,” he said. “Even if the flag is attached to his bottom.”

Dot laughed so hard she sat down on the chalk. Gusset laughed too, and his tail swished the sash in a circle. The blue cloth brushed a nearby pile of paper shields. They flew up like startled butterflies and landed on the guests’ heads.

“Excellent,” cried the cook, now wearing a shield like a very broad hat.

The parade caller rang a little bell. “Costume parade in one minute!” Guests hurried into a line. Gusset looked at his changed outfit. His tunic fit around his wings, his helmet rested between his horns, and his sash gave his tail a jaunty bow.

Still, the front of the line seemed a long way away. Gusset’s claws curled against the floor.

“You made this outfit yourself,” Dot reminded him. “And you know how to march.”

Gusset stood tall. “Then I’ll lead.” He offered Dot the end of a long paper banner. She took it in both paws, and together they stepped to the head of the parade.

The bell rang. Gusset lifted his chin, raised one claw, and began with a knightly march. His tail gave a little flag-swish behind him.

Gusset marched down the hall, and Dot marched beside him, holding the banner’s other end. The banner read, “Hooray for Costumes That Fit!” Gusset’s tail sash bobbed behind him like a tiny parade all by itself.

The line followed with a cheerful clatter. The cook wore a paper shield for a hat. The frog in the floppy hat hopped in time. The hound’s two capes fluttered behind him, and one brushed the cardboard dragon’s nose. The cardboard dragon tipped forward. Gusset caught it gently with one claw, then bowed as if he had rescued a whole kingdom.

“Good knight!” called the guests.

Gusset bowed again. His helmet slipped down over his eyes. He took three careful steps, bumping softly into Dot’s banner.

“Sir Gusset,” Dot whispered, “your helmet is marching without you.”

Gusset pushed it up. “Then it can follow behind.” The guests giggled, and the parade rounded the hall once more. Everyone waved a paper flag, even the hound, who tried to wave with all four paws at the same time.

When the last march ended, the guests made a circle for silly bows. The cook bowed so low that his shield-hat rolled across the floor. The frog bowed with a hop. Dot made a tiny curtsy, and Gusset swept one claw across his chest.

“Sir Gusset the Brave,” announced the parade caller, “leader of the very fine, very funny costume parade!”

Gusset’s cheeks warmed. He had wanted to wear a knight costume, and now he wore one made just for him. Dot stood at his side, still holding the banner. He gave her a grateful smile.

The party grew quieter. Guests folded their paper flags and gathered their hats. The punch bowl was empty except for the belt, which Gusset fished out with the end of his tail. Dot helped him hang the banner over a chair to dry.

Gusset carefully lifted off his helmet and set it on the costume table. He hung up his tunic beside it, wings folded neatly through their new openings. Then he sat beside Dot on a cushioned bench and watched the hall settle back into its usual shape.

His tail gave one contented swish. Dot leaned against his warm side, and the castle grew quiet around them.