The Boy and Pobbi

First Wish

Three of them? Four? Or maybe… countless? Just how many could there be?!

The roof of the newly built shed had no holes at all, a solid surface that was a little stiff, sure, but still surprisingly comfy to lie on. And to make things even cozier, he had dragged up an inflatable mattress, which he pumped up all by himself. Well… not exactly by himself. The pump was automatic, so technically it did all the work.

With the matching pillow tucked under his head, he froze there, unable to look away.

So how many are there?! Could it be as many as the trees in this forest?

Let’s see: one trunk, then another tree, then a third. Wow! There are so many of them too. Who would win in a contest—trees or stars? Who’s stronger, who’s more numerous? Or maybe… why should they fight at all, when both are so beautiful and calm?

Trees are good at so many things: they smell nice, they make that soothing whisper with their crowns, and their leaves fall so beautifully in autumn. They’re tall and mesmerizing too! When you look at them from below, it’s as if they’ve stretched their huge legs deep into the earth just so their leafy heads can stay out of reach of all those pesky humans staring at them all the time.

Sometimes they can even be scary… especially at night, when that noisy crowd argues with the air, and the air strikes back, whipping the trees with furious winds. That’s when these living logs bend and twist like they’re about to rip their roots out and actually do something. Maybe something nice—like having a tea party together. Or maybe even chasing him around in a game of tag.

But no… trees could never do anything bad.

And what about the stars? They’re dazzling too, bursting with energy, but unbearably… far away! That’s what makes him mad sometimes. You look up there, trying to figure out why they all gathered together, and you can’t. Maybe just so they don’t have to answer any questions? Fine then! Stay mysterious if you want. I won’t bug you for your secrets.

The first one!

There—it streaked across the sky. Erich held his breath, waiting for the meteor shower to come, when the whole sky would turn into one massive firework of sparkling dots! They’d stretch into commas, vanish behind the horizon, and maybe people in faraway countries could catch them.

Too bad it never happened here. Not once. He dreamed of a little—or maybe huge (what size were they, anyway?)—star falling right into his backyard. So he could walk up, pat it on the shoulder and whisper: Don’t be scared. You might not be home anymore, but this place can be okay too, especially if you’ve got friends around.

Somewhere nearby, strange birds shrieked in hysterical voices. That usually meant a storm was on its way. At least, that’s what his grandma always said. She also had something about frogs… that they croak loudest when bad weather’s coming.

The shimmering sky blurred in front of his eyes, and he forgot all about the possible rain. As if the clouds themselves had decided to join him for tea. Though, honestly, the sky full of storm clouds probably didn’t crave a warm glow—its nature was different. Darker, chillier, unfriendly to fire.

And the stars? They shut their curtains, hiding from him. The clouds, on the other hand, grew heavy with power. A rumble rolled somewhere in the distance. The wind snapped, nearly knocking over the little teacup sitting beside Erich. Whoa! That was it. A storm was definitely coming.

But nature, angry as it was, still didn’t seem eager to release anything exciting. Not even the simplest gift of all—a good rain. How could anyone not love rain? Those streams of water were probably more fun than the whole forest and the entire universe put together. You couldn’t exactly run around in space or in the woods the way you could in the rain—splashing, shouting, and snorting like Pobbi, who sat right next to him now.

Pobbi was usually calm and obedient. He rarely showed any urge to go wild. But a heavy downpour always flipped him upside down—turning him into Erich’s full-time partner in leaping, soaking, and racing under a million-million drops.

“Come on, rain, where are you?” Erich whispered aloud, his voice soft and pleading as he gazed upward. The sky stayed silent… or maybe not! Something was falling—something that looked exactly like a single drop. But why was it alone, without its usual army? And why was it floating down so slowly, as if it didn’t want to hurry and play with him and Pobbi?

Maybe the little piece of water actually heard him, because suddenly it sped up, hurling itself downward. Two or three heartbeats later—bam! It smacked him right on the forehead and bounced softly aside.

Pobbi whimpered, pressing himself close to his two-legged friend as if to comfort him, but Erich jumped to his feet and shouted proudly:

“See? Didn’t hurt at all! Look—no bruise. I can scratch it and it still doesn’t sting. So no black eye either.”

Strangely enough, the drop had felt almost weightless, like he barely noticed it at all. But where was it now? Had it already melted away into a tiny puddle?

With the sky shut tight, there wasn’t enough light. And since his mom had already gone to bed, no glow shone from the house windows either. Erich, of course, found a quick solution: he fished his phone out of his pocket and switched on the flashlight. A beam cut instantly through the dark. Pobbi pushed up against him, and together they stepped toward the fallen guest.

Scanning the rooftop with his eyes, Erich saw nothing.

“Do you get it?” he asked his furry partner in confusion. “How could it just vanish?”

The dog gave a long sound of agreement—and then his paw pressed down on something cold and solid. He buried his nose into it, signaling for Erich to look closer.

Erich shone the beam and froze.

There it was—a huge chunk of ice. It looked like a rectangular icicle, blunt at both ends. If not for the dim glow shining from inside it, it could have passed for an ordinary brick.

“Whoa! We only had hail once around here, and I never got a close look back then. Pobbi, check this out—it’s so weird! Smell it, tell me what you think.”

After a serious round of sniffing, the shaggy detective came to the conclusion that it had no smell at all. He shared this with a little whine. Erich scratched his head.

“Hmm… okay. But why isn’t it melting? Why is it… wait—it’s growing?! Oh no, Pobbi, run! It’s getting bigger!”

The frightened pair scrambled almost to the very edge of the low roof before stopping—because curiosity was always sneakier than fear. They turned, and what they saw was impossible: the hailstone was swelling, bigger and bigger. First the size of two cobblestones side by side, then as large as a chair, and then…

“A sarcophagus!” Erich gasped, recalling the Egyptian history lessons from school. “A real sarcophagus made of pure ice! Which pharaoh is inside—the one who rules all the Snowmen?”

Pobbi snorted, clearly doubtful, and to prove Erich wrong, he boldly trotted up to the frozen wonder.

Erich’s fear made him want to stay back, but he couldn’t look like a coward in front of his brave dog. So he tiptoed after him.

Pobbi was already sniffing around the heavenly delivery, scratching at the frost that stuck to his paw. Erich reached out and brushed his hand across the top—the ice wouldn’t budge. Nothing could be seen inside.

“How does it open? Oh, if only I could see who’s in there!”

The moment he spoke, his words turned into a spell. The whole block of ice melted away in an instant, as if it had never been there. And on the roof now lay… a girl. The most unusual girl he had ever seen. Not in his class, not in his little town—nowhere. He could swear on it.

“What do you think? Are there many like her in big cities? I’ve been there with Mom, I’ve seen all kinds of people…”