Zella and the Moonstone

“Today, I’ll get you to the top,” Zella told the moonstone, which promptly rolled away from the hill.

It bumped across the grass and stopped beside a clump of blue, bell-shaped flowers. Zella hurried after it. Her three little toes sank into the springy ground.

“Wait for me!” she called.

The moonstone had a rounded top and a broad, nearly flat underside. When it tipped onto its curved edge, it could roll like a ball. It had been resting beside the path near Zella’s home in the friendly village of Nibbin. Each evening, the villagers carried blankets to the hilltop and watched the first stars appear. Tonight, Zella wanted to bring the moonstone with them. It would make a fine seat for her tiny cousin, Pip.

Pip bounced beside her. “I can help!”

Zella put both hands against the stone. “Ready?”

Together, they pushed. The moonstone rolled a little way up the grassy hill. Then it wobbled left, slipped off the path, and rolled back down.

“Whoa!” said Pip, scooting out of its way.

The stone stopped in a patch of clover. Zella brushed a leaf from its smooth surface. “We’ll try again.”

This time, she pushed harder. The stone climbed higher, but it veered toward a row of round, sleepy-looking shrubs. Zella planted her feet and tried to turn it. The stone wobbled past her hands and rolled downhill once more.

At the bottom, their friend Dodo came over carrying a folded blanket. Dodo had two long ears and a little silver nose.

“Are you bringing the moonstone up for the sky show?” Dodo asked.

“I am,” Zella said. She looked up at the hilltop, where the villagers were setting out cups of warm berry milk. “But it keeps rolling away.”

Pip patted the stone. “Maybe it wants to stay here.”

Zella smiled at him. “Maybe it just needs us to find the right way.”

She walked back up the path, looking closely at the ground. The stone waited in the grass behind her, still and rounded. Zella followed the path with her eyes, searching for a clue.

Near the middle of the hill, Zella spotted a shallow groove running along the path. It was no deeper than her fingertip. Rainwater had made it, winding between patches of grass.

“Look,” she said. “The path has a little track!”

Dodo crouched beside her. “Maybe the stone can follow it.”

Zella rolled the moonstone back to the bottom. She didn’t shove. Instead, she placed one hand near its side and gave it a small nudge toward the groove.

The stone rolled forward. It wobbled, but the groove kept it from wandering off the path.

“Again,” said Pip.

Zella gave another little nudge. The moonstone moved a few inches, then stopped against a pebble. Zella lifted the pebble away. She nudged the stone again. This time it rolled past the spot and stayed in the track.

Up the hill they went, one small push at a time. Dodo walked beside the stone, ready to steady it. Pip marched behind, cheering softly. “Good rolling, moonstone!”

At a bend in the path, the groove curved toward the grass. The stone began to drift that way.

“Not too much!” Zella called. She put her palm against the stone’s left side and nudged it gently back toward the middle. It wobbled once, then settled into the groove.

Zella’s knees felt tired. The hilltop still seemed far away. For a moment, she looked at the stone and wondered if she could manage one more stretch.

Then she saw Pip watching with his hands tucked under his chin. Dodo held the blanket ready. The village below was quiet, and the evening sky had begun to darken above the rooftops.

“We’re getting there,” Zella said.

She rested for a moment, then studied the groove ahead. It curved around a small tuft of grass and continued up the path. Zella placed both hands lightly against the moonstone.

“Just a little nudge,” she whispered.

The stone rolled around the tuft. Zella followed it, guiding it with one careful touch after another. The path steepened near the top. The moonstone wobbled toward the edge—but Zella saw it in time. She leaned in and steered it back into the groove.

At last, the stone rolled onto the flat hilltop and tipped onto its broad underside. It came to rest beside the blanket. Zella sat down, smiling. Pip clapped, and Dodo spread the blanket beside her.

The villagers gathered around the moonstone as the last bit of daylight slipped behind the far hills. Their homes below had round doors and curved roofs, and small lamps glowed in their windows. From the hilltop, the village looked like a little nest tucked into the grass.

Pip sat on the moonstone’s broad, flat underside and swung his feet. “It’s a perfect seat!”

“It took a lot of little nudges,” Zella said.

Dodo laid out the blanket. Everyone settled onto it, leaving a space for Zella beside the stone. She sat with her legs stretched out and rubbed a blade of grass between her fingers.

Above them, the sky changed from dusky blue to deep blue. One star appeared. Then another, farther away. Pip pointed with both hands.

He pointed at one star. “Its light makes me think of a little spoon,” he said.

“I can picture a fish dozing beside that star,” Dodo replied.

Zella leaned back on her elbows. The moonstone was cool beside her shoulder. She remembered how it had rolled away at the bottom of the hill, and how she had wanted to push harder. The little groove had helped—but she had also needed to look carefully, try again, and guide the stone one small bit at a time.

“Will you bring it up again tomorrow?” Pip asked.

“Maybe,” Zella said. “But tonight, we can just sit with it.”

The friends listened to the grass whisper in the evening breeze. Someone passed around warm berry milk. Zella held her cup in both hands, letting its warmth reach her fingers. The stars appeared one by one, and the villagers quietly named the shapes they found among them.

Pip’s eyelids grew heavy. He leaned against Dodo, who tucked the blanket over his knees. Zella looked at the moonstone resting safely on the hilltop. It had found its place for the evening, and so had she.

When it was time to go home, Zella walked down the path beside her friends. They left the moonstone where it was, ready for the next sky-viewing. At her door, Zella waved up at the hill, then stepped inside, where her bed waited beneath the round window. She curled up, thinking of the stars above the village, and let the quiet evening carry her toward sleep.