Maddox’s Star-Tooth Note

Maddox drew a star beside his tooth. “Now the Tooth Fairy will know,” he whispered, and tucked the note under his pillow.

The tooth had come out at dinner, right into his mashed potatoes. Maddox had rinsed it carefully and held it up to his bedside lamp. There, near one edge, was a tiny mark shaped just like a star.

“Ivy should know about that,” he told his stuffed rabbit, Mr. Button. “She might want to see it.”

Maddox didn’t know what the Tooth Fairy looked like, but he knew her name was Ivy. His mom had told him that. He hoped Ivy liked pictures, because his letters still wobbled when he wrote them.

On the note, he had drawn a big star. Then he drew a little round shape beside it. He wasn’t sure the round shape looked like a tooth, so he added a happy face. The star, though, came out just right.

His bedroom was quiet. A moonbeam reached from the window all the way to the foot of his bed, making a pale path across the rug. At the end of the path sat Maddox’s wooden toy stars: one blue, one yellow, and one with a chipped point.

He looked from the stars to his note. “I’ll put the tooth right here,” he said. He placed it beside the paper, then slid both beneath his pillow.

Mr. Button sat up against the wall, listening.

“Do you think she’ll understand?” Maddox asked him.

Mr. Button, who was very good at keeping secrets, said nothing.

Maddox wriggled under his blanket. He pictured Ivy finding his note, seeing the star, and knowing exactly what to do. Perhaps she would bring a surprise that fit in his hand. Perhaps she would leave a message, too.

He closed his eyes, but kept one ear awake. The moonbeam lay across the rug, pointing toward the foot of his bed. Everything waited: the tooth, the note, the toy stars, and Maddox’s little question for Ivy.

Then, from somewhere near the floor, came a quiet sound.

Flit. Pause. Flit.

Maddox opened one eye. A small figure stood at the foot of his bed, right where the moonbeam ended. She wore a green coat with silver buttons and carried a little satchel.

“Ivy,” Maddox whispered.

The figure turned. “Hello, Maddox.” Her voice was as quiet as a page turning.

She lifted the pillow and found both the note and the tooth. The little mark on the tooth was hard to see in the dim light, but the big star on the note stood out. Ivy studied it, then glanced at the wooden toy stars on the rug.

Maddox sat up. “Oh,” he said. “You think I want a star.”

Ivy looked over her shoulder. “I wasn’t sure. Your drawing is a lovely star.”

Maddox felt his cheeks grow warm. He had tried so hard to make the star neat that he had forgotten the important part. He could have hidden his face under the blanket. Instead, he reached for the pencil on his nightstand.

“Wait,” he said. “I can show you.”

On the back of his note, he drew a tooth with a rounded top and a little root. Beside it, he drew a tiny star right on the tooth. He added an arrow from the big picture to the real tooth beneath his pillow.

“This is the tooth,” he explained. “The little star is the mark. I wanted you to know it was there.”

Ivy leaned closer. Her smile made the corners of her eyes crease. “I see what you meant now. That little star is a wonderful mark.”

Maddox slid the tooth from beneath the pillow and held it out in his palm. Ivy placed it carefully in her satchel. Then she set a small coin beside the pillow and wrote a few words on a tiny slip of paper.

He looked at Ivy’s note. It said, “I see the star. It’s a wonderful mark.”

He smiled. Ivy had understood.

“Your picture helped us,” she whispered.

Maddox settled back beneath his blanket. Ivy folded the note beside the coin, then tiptoed along the moonbeam toward the window.

At the sill, she gave him a small wave. Maddox waved back, pleased that he had found a way to show her what words alone could not.

Maddox stayed awake just long enough to hear Ivy’s wings make one last flutter near the window. Then his room grew still again. The moonbeam remained stretched across the rug, and the wooden toy stars sat in their little row at the foot of the bed.

In the morning, sunlight slipped around the curtains and landed on Mr. Button’s ears. Maddox sat up and lifted his pillow.

The tooth was gone.

Beside the pillow lay a small coin and Ivy’s note. He read the words again, moving his lips slowly: “I see the star. It’s a wonderful mark.”

Maddox looked at the drawing on the back of his paper. The tooth he had made was a little lopsided, and the star sat right where it belonged. He grinned.

“She knew,” he told Mr. Button. “She knew about the mark!”

He placed the coin in his little wooden box, where he kept buttons, marbles, and a smooth pebble from the park. Ivy’s note went beside it, safe from crumples. Then he set his star drawing on the bedside table.

Mom came in with his clean shirt. “Did the Tooth Fairy visit?” she asked.

“She did,” Maddox said. “At first, she thought I wanted a star. But I showed her the tooth, too.”

“That was thoughtful,” Mom said. “You helped her get it right.”

Maddox glanced at the moonbeam’s pale place on the rug. It was gone now, but he could still picture Ivy standing there, looking carefully at his drawings.

He wondered what she would think of the lopsided tooth. Probably she would see that he had tried his best. That seemed like a good thing for a picture to show.

Before breakfast, he put the drawing beside the wooden toy stars. The big star looked right at home there, and the little tooth star looked like a tiny secret only he and Ivy shared.

Maddox climbed down from bed and padded toward the kitchen. Behind him, Mr. Button sat beside the note, keeping it company while the room filled with the ordinary sounds of a new morning.