Orange Blocks Reach the Sky
Brooks had a big plan, and it was orange. He dumped the Orange Blocks onto the grass of the Backyard Workshop. "Falcon, today we build the grandest perch tower ever," he said. Falcon ruffled her wings, which meant yes.
Brooks stacked one block, two blocks, three blocks, four. The tower leaned like a sleepy giraffe. Then it fell over, and the blocks bounced away across the lawn. Falcon hopped after one and sat on it, looking very proud.
"That is not helping," Brooks said, but he was grinning. He built again, taller and quicker. Wobble, wobble, wobble. The tower toppled again, and this time a block landed right on his sneaker. Falcon tilted her head as if to ask a question.
Brooks sat down and thought, chin in his hand. Careful thinking was his best tool. Every tower he knew, like the pyramids, was wide at the bottom. His blocks kept falling because he was building up before he built out.
Brooks held up two ideas, one in each hand. One was a wider base of blocks. The other was a squishy trick he had spotted by the pond. Falcon looked from one hand to the other and waited.
Brooks laid a wide base, eight blocks in two neat rows. He stacked smaller rows on top, like stairs. The tower stood still. Falcon fluttered up one step at a time, as if she were climbing a mountain.
"Stairs for a falcon," Brooks said. "Very fancy." He pressed on the top block with one finger. It did not budge, not even a wiggle. Brooks gave Falcon a high five with a feather, and the whole yard felt proud.
Brooks added the last piece, a round wooden pole poking out the top. He stepped back to look. The Perch Tower stood tall and steady, twice as high as he was. It was the grandest tower in the whole yard.
Falcon flew up and landed on the pole. The tower did not even tremble. Brooks cheered so loudly that a sleepy Old Goose wandered over to the fence, wearing a blue scarf. She honked politely, which was her way of saying hello.
Old Goose looked at the tower for a long moment. Then she waddled into the yard and pecked at the bottom block. Brooks gasped. "Careful," he said, and then he tried not to giggle. The goose looked very serious about it.
Nothing happened. The tower stood like a rock. Old Goose seemed to nod, as if she approved. Brooks had an idea so silly it made him snort. The tower was too good to stay in one yard, and he knew just where it belonged.
Brooks picked up the tower in four easy pieces and counted out two possible spots. One was high on the hill where the wind sang. The other was low by the pond where the lily pads floated. Falcon hopped onto his shoulder and waited for him to choose.
Brooks climbed the hill with the blocks, and Old Goose waddled behind, huffing. At the top, he rebuilt the Perch Tower in the breezy Hilltop Meadow. Falcon flew up to the pole, and the whole sky seemed to open around her.
The sun sank orange behind the clouds, just the color of the blocks. Brooks leaned against the tower and Falcon looked out at everything. "Best perch in the world," he said, and Falcon agreed with a soft little chirp.
Then Brooks noticed the tiny surprise. Old Goose had tucked her blue scarf around the bottom block, like a cozy blanket for the tower. Brooks smiled all the way up to his ears.
