Perry and the Lantern on the Ledge

My job was important, but I had nowhere to hang. My little brass handle was ready, my glass sides were clean, and my flame was waiting to shine. But the hook above the mountain path was much too high for me to reach by myself.

Along came Perry, a young dragon with a tail so long it curled behind him like a sleepy green ribbon. He was carrying me carefully in both paws. His family was waiting in their cave for supper, and the ledge path between us was full of turns and little steps. They needed my light to see where to walk.

“First, I’ll hang you right there,” Perry said, pointing to the hook in the stone wall. His voice sounded sure, though his eyes had to look a long way up. The path was narrow, but a broad, flat rock sat beside the wall. It looked like a good place to stand.

Perry set me down and tested the rock with one foot. It stayed firm. Then he picked me up and stretched toward the hook. I was nearly there—nearly!—when a breeze slipped between the mountain ledges. I swung out of his paws and bumped his chest with a tiny clink.

“Whoa,” Perry said, and put me back on the ground. “You’re a lively little lantern.”

“I’m trying to be helpful,” I wanted to tell him. “I just need to stay still!”

Perry looked up at the hook again. He stood on his toes, stretched his arms, and tried once more. The hook still sat beyond his reach. And I swung again, this time in a little circle that made my flame wobble behind the glass.

Perry caught me before I could bump the wall. He set me down gently, then glanced along the winding path toward his family’s cave. Somewhere beyond the ledges, his mother called, “Supper’s ready!”

Perry smiled at the sound. He paused, weighing the high hook, the broad rock, and the lantern in his paws. “There has to be a way,” he murmured. His long tail lay across the stone path behind him, quiet as a green rope. For a moment, he seemed to be thinking very hard.

Perry picked me up again and stood beside the broad rock. “If I climb up here, I can reach the hook,” he said. He placed one foot on the rock and lifted me toward the wall.

But the breeze came slipping around the ledge once more. I swung left, then right. Perry stretched one arm farther, trying to guide my handle toward the hook, while his other hand kept me from bumping the stone. His foot wobbled on the rock.

He stopped at once and stepped down. “That’s not safe,” he said. “I need you steady, and I need both feet steady, too.”

I rested in his paws while he studied the path. Then Perry’s eyes followed his long tail, which had curled around a small loose stone behind him. The stone had been rocking before. Now his tail held it snug against the ledge.

“Hey,” Perry said. “My tail’s keeping that stone still!”

He looked at my handle, then at his tail. His grin grew wide. “Maybe it can help you stay still, too.”

Perry sat beside the wall and carefully looped the tip of his tail through my handle. He didn’t pull hard. He just held me close, so I could no longer swing in the breeze. Then he nudged the broad rock until it sat flat against the wall. He pressed it with both feet. It didn’t shift.

“Ready?” he asked.

I felt his tail give the handle a steadying hug. Perry climbed onto the low rock, one foot and then the other. He kept his balance and raised me toward the hook. This time I stayed quiet and still. My handle reached the metal curve.

“Almost,” Perry whispered.

He tipped me a little, guided the handle over the hook, and let it settle into place. The hook held. Perry stepped down from the rock and looked up at me. I hung straight against the mountain wall, no longer swinging.

“There!” Perry said. “You’re right where you belong.”

My flame brightened behind the glass. The path below us appeared in golden patches: one ledge, then the next, all the way around the bend toward home.

Perry stood beside the wall and watched my light spread along the path. It made the edges of the flat stones easy to see and painted a little golden square on the broad rock he had used as a step.

“There’s the way,” he said. He called toward the cave, “I hung the lantern!”

His family answered with happy voices. Soon his mother, father, and little sister came around the bend. They walked one at a time, placing their feet where my light showed the path. Perry’s sister spotted him beside the wall and waved.

“You did it!” she called.

“We did it,” Perry said, looking up at me. His long tail curled around his feet, and the tip rested near the wall beneath my handle. It had helped me stay still, and now it made a cozy loop on the stone.

Perry’s father gave the broad rock a careful nudge. It stayed firm. “A good step,” he said. “And a very clever tail.”

Perry’s sister giggled. “Your tail is long enough to wrap around the whole mountain!”

“Not the whole mountain,” Perry said. “Just enough to help a lantern.”

Together, they followed the ledges toward their cave. Their shadows walked beside them, growing long across the stones as they passed through my light. I could see their faces turn toward one another. I could hear their soft steps, their cheerful talk, and the little clink of Perry’s supper bowl.

At the cave entrance, the family gathered close around a table. The cave smelled of warm bread and roasted squash. Perry settled beside his sister, and his tail curled comfortably along the floor. From my place on the ledge, I watched the family begin supper while I kept the path bright behind them.

The evening breeze moved through the Dragon Mountains, but my handle stayed snug on its hook. Below me, Perry’s tail rested in a round green coil, and the lantern light lay over it like a bright blanket. The cave’s welcoming doorway glowed in the distance. I watched the last of the family’s shadows settle inside, while the quiet mountain path rested under my steady light.