The Egg Next to Tilly

"Eggs need the warm spot," said Mama, "or they stop cooking." "It doesn't even DO anything!" "Not yet," said Mama, giving Tilly's cheek a quick nudge — but she was already turning back to the egg. Everybody came to see it, and the duckbill twins pressed their noses to the egg and giggled.

"Ah… an egg… lovely," said the great slow one, stretching his dripping neck all the way up the hill. Nobody said, "Ah… Tilly… lovely." Tilly sat at the edge of the nest, and something hot and prickly crept up under her chin. That evening, Mama said, "When you were an egg, I knocked on your shell every night and said hello."

"And every night," said Mama, "you knocked back." That night, the wind came down off the mountain, cold and hissing… Mama snored her mountain snore: Hrrrrrr… phoooo. But Tilly lay shivering at the edge of the nest, staring at the warm middle.

"Just a little… just for tonight." She pushed the egg with her nose — it wobbled... it rolled... and sat on the rim... Oh no... it went over! Bonk… bonk… bonk… down the long green hill, into the dark.

Tilly looked at sleeping Mama… then she went after it. The ferns were slippery with dew, and Tilly's feet went one way while the rest of her went the other! Whoooooosh — down on her tail after the bouncing egg, past a very surprised beetle! She landed at the bottom just in time to see the egg bounce into the river.

The egg bobbed away in the moonlight. Near the bank, the great slow one lay fast asleep, snoring great slow snores. "Wake up!" cried Tilly. "The egg!" The great slow one opened one eye. "Ah," he said.

"An… egg," he said, so slowly that by the time he finished, it had floated past a rock and all the way around the bend. "YES," said Tilly, "my little brother or sister — please hurry!" She scrambled up onto his head, and he stepped into the river and waded after it — not fast, but he did not stop. Where the river met the marsh, the reeds grew too close for him. He said, "I'll… wait… here."

Tilly slid down his long neck and squeezed through the reeds alone. On the other side was a bank of round, speckled stones, and every single one looked exactly like the egg! Pop, pop — up came two sleepy heads: the duckbill twins! "I've lost the egg," Tilly told them.

So the twins paddled close, and all three of them climbed up onto the stones, stepping only on the flat ones. The twins each held up a stone: "Is it this one… or this one?" "No, and no — and that one's a frog!" "Ribbit," said the frog, very crossly.

Then Tilly remembered what Mama had said: every night, you knocked back — and stones don't knock back! A floating egg would wash up at the water's edge, so she tapped the stones along the side, one, then the next, then the next — but nothing, and nothing, and nothing… Then, right at the edge of the water, something answered! Tap!

Tilly put her nose against the shell, and it was cold — cold like a stone. "It doesn't even do anything," she said, much more quietly this time. She thought about being inside — small, and round, and quiet… and cold. So she lay down on the windy side of the egg, and made herself into a wall.

The wind bumped into Tilly and went around, and the twins snuggled in, because a wall is warmer with three. "Hello, it's me… I'm the one outside." "I'm sorry I pushed you, but I've got you." Tap, tap.

And Tilly smiled in the dark, where nobody could see. After a while, the sky turned pink with dawn, and when Tilly touched her nose to the shell, it wasn't cold anymore — it was warm. Tilly carried the egg back through the reeds, and there was the great slow one, still waiting, just as he'd said. Then the great slow one carried them both home, slow step by slow step, and Tilly fell asleep on the way.

At the top of the hill, he set them in the nest as gently as a leaf. When Mama opened her eyes, there was Tilly — curled around the egg, fast asleep, with mud on her feet. Mama put her nose against the shell, and it was warm all the way around — warmest of all on Tilly's side. Mama didn't say a word; she just put her nose to Tilly's cheek.

Slow, this time… not quick at all. Later that morning, the great slow one looked into the nest for a long time: "Ah… Tilly." "Lovely." And every night after that, the wind found a small dinosaur curled around a speckled egg, whispering, "Hello, it's me, I'm the one outside."

Sleeping in the warm spot — which turned out to be big enough for two.