The Morning Quill Lost His Clipboard

Quill knew three things about mornings.

Tea belonged in a cup.

Biscuit crumbs belonged on a plate.

And his clipboard belonged exactly where he had left it.

Unfortunately, this morning, only the tea was cooperating.

Quill stood beside his empty desk in his purple robe. He lifted a book. He looked beneath a cushion. He checked behind the little pot containing his second-best pencil.

Nothing.

He checked behind it again.

Still nothing, which Quill considered unnecessary.

From the kitchen came a clatter.

“Bam,” he called.

“I haven’t done anything yet.”

Quill closed his eyes.

The word yet was doing a great deal of work.

By breakfast, Quill had gathered everyone around the table.

Ziggy sat with a warm biscuit between his paws. Remy poured tea. Lumina moved the jam away from Scribble, who had been investigating its possibilities.

Bam arrived last.

He was carrying a spoon.

Nobody knew why.

“My clipboard,” Quill announced, “is missing.”

Ziggy lowered his biscuit.

“Have you looked where you left it?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” said Ziggy. “That was my first idea.”

“When did you last have it?” Remy asked.

“Last night. I finished tomorrow’s list, placed it on my desk, and went to bed.”

“Today’s list,” Lumina said.

“What?”

“If you wrote it yesterday for tomorrow, it is now today’s list.”

Quill stared at her.

Lumina stirred her tea.

“I thought accuracy mattered.”

“It does,” said Quill, with some effort.

They began searching.

Remy looked beneath the kitchen table.

Lumina checked the shelves.

Scribble slipped behind the cupboard and emerged with a button, a dried leaf, and a crumb considerably larger than expected.

Bam offered to investigate the biscuit tin.

“That will not be necessary,” Quill said.

“I’m thorough.”

“You are hungry.”

“Two things can be true.”

Ziggy searched the window seat.

Then he searched the rug.

Then he stopped beside Quill’s desk.

There, tucked underneath it, was a small wooden box.

Ziggy crouched.

Inside lay his soft blue blanket.

He remembered the night before: rain tapping on the windows, thunder rolling over Bamboo Corner, and the rather uncomfortable discovery that his usual sleeping cushion was a long way from everyone else.

He had brought his blanket downstairs.

Quill had still been awake.

Ziggy touched the edge of the box.

“Quill?”

“Yes?”

“Did I fall asleep here?”

Quill came to stand beside him.

“For a little while.”

“And you stayed?”

“I had work.”

Ziggy looked at the empty desk.

Then at the box.

One side sat slightly higher than the other.

He lifted the blanket.

Underneath it was the clipboard.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Then Bam whispered, “The panda did it.”

“I didn’t,” Ziggy said.

“No,” said Quill quietly. “You didn’t.”

He remembered now.

The box had rocked whenever Ziggy shifted in his sleep. One corner was cracked, and the uneven floor made it worse.

Quill had needed something flat.

Something sturdy.

Something close at hand.

“Oh,” said Remy.

Lumina’s golden light warmed the little space beneath the desk.

Quill bent to retrieve the clipboard. A corner of the list had folded over, and a small tuft of panda fur clung to the clip.

Ziggy looked up at him.

“You put your list under my bed?”

“Temporarily.”

“So it wouldn’t wobble?”

“Yes.”

Ziggy considered this.

“Thank you.”

Quill straightened the paper with particular care.

“You are welcome.”

After breakfast, Remy repaired the box.

Lumina found a quiet corner beside the bookshelves.

Scribble contributed a cheerful swirl of blue and orange above it.

Bam suggested a biscuit shelf.

This proposal was declined.

Quill brought over the blanket himself.

Ziggy climbed into the little bed and turned around twice.

“Is this all right?” he asked.

Quill checked the legs. He pressed gently on each corner.

Quite steady.

“Yes,” he said. “That will do very well.”

Later, when everyone had wandered away, Quill returned to his desk.

He smoothed his list.

There were shelves to sort. Letters to answer. A jar of pencils that somebody had arranged point-down, which required immediate attention.

At the bottom, he added one more item.

Check Ziggy’s blanket before bed.

Then he placed the clipboard exactly where it belonged.

After a moment, he moved it a little closer to the edge.

Just in case someone needed something sturdy.