The Helper Who Brought the Light

Part One. The Man in the White Coat

The first time we saw Mister Raven was on a Monday, and he was stealing a spoon.

He didn't know we were watching. He was standing in the dinner hall, behind the serving hatch, in a dazzling white coat, and he looked left, then right, then left again. Then he slipped a shiny silver spoon into his pocket and walked away, whistling.

"Did you see that?" whispered Ollie.

"I saw it," said Alex.

"He took the spoon," said Felix.

Alex and Felix had both seen it. They were standing together at the front of the queue, like they always do, and Alex had seen the spoon go in the pocket, and Felix had seen the little sneaky smile that went with it.

It was Reading Buddies day again, so Elfine and Marion were sitting with us, and Willow was lying along the bench like a long gold cushion. Willow does not usually move when she's busy ignoring people. But now she sat bolt upright, her ears went flat, and she gave a long, low growl.

"Willow doesn't like him," said Marion.

"Willow doesn't like anyone," said Elfine.

"She likes us," said Marion.

"She tolerates us," said Elfine.

The man in the white coat strolled over to our table. He had black glittering eyes, and a nose a bit like a beak, and hair so dark that it shimmered blue when he moved his head. His badge said Mister Raven, Lunchtime Helper.

"Good afternoon, small people," he said, in a croaky, cheerful voice. "Has anyone seen a teaspoon? I seem to have misplaced one."

"It's in your pocket," said Kenji.

Mister Raven patted his pocket. He looked amazed. "Well, would you look at that," he said. "How did it get there?"

Then he winked at Willow. She hissed at him.

Part Two. The Nest on the Climbing Frame

By Tuesday, Missus Tibbs had counted the cutlery four times, and it was always wrong. Twelve spoons were missing. So were three bunches of keys, a roll of tinfoil, Mister Harris's best pen, and every single gold star sticker in the whole school.

"Somebody is stealing the shiny things," said Missus Tibbs.

"It's a magpie," said Mister Harris.

"It's not a magpie," said Marion. "Come on, Alex. Come on, Felix. I've got a hunch."

Marion has the best climbing legs in the school. She led Alex and Felix across the playground, with Elfine and Willow trotting behind, and we all squeezed in after them. She stopped under the big wooden climbing frame, looked up, and pointed.

At the very top, wedged in the beams, was an enormous nest. It was made of sticks and string and old scarves. And it was absolutely stuffed with shiny things. There were spoons and bottle tops and crisp packets. There were buttons, keys, bits of tinfoil, coloured foil sweet wrappers, one earring, and a whole row of gold star stickers stuck to the inside like wallpaper.

"I knew it," said Marion.

"It's a raven's nest," said Alex.

"How did you know?" said Elfine.

"Because he's Mister Raven," said Alex. "It's on his badge."

"Alex," said Felix, "I think she means how did you know that ravens like shiny things."

"Oh," said Alex. "Everybody knows that."

Elfine pushed her glasses up her nose, which is what she does when she is about to be amazing. "He's not just a raven," she said. "He's Raven. The Raven. The trickster from the stories of the Pacific Northwest, where the Haida people and the Tlingit people live, on the coast of Canada and Alaska, in forests so big and so green that the trees look like they go all the way up to the sky."

Part Three. Raven and the Clamshell

Elfine told the story right there, under the climbing frame. We sat in a circle on the wood chips, and Willow lay across Marion's feet.

"A long time ago," said Elfine, "Raven was flying along an empty beach. He was a big white bird with shiny feathers. He was clever, and curious, and very, very bored."

"Why was he bored?" said Felix.

"Because there was nobody else in the whole world," said Elfine. "There were trees and rocks and waves. But no people at all. Then one day he heard a tiny sound coming from a giant clamshell on the sand. It was a little squeaky noise, like a hundred tiny mice, whispering."

"What was in it?" said Alex.

"People," said Elfine. "The very first people. Hiding inside the shell. Tiny and shy, with their hands over their faces, too scared to come out."

"Did Raven eat them?" said Ollie.

"No!" said Elfine. "Raven was gentle. He said, Come out, come out. The world is big and wonderful, and I'll show you. And he talked and joked and flapped his wings. And one by one, the little people crept out of the shell."

"That's lovely," said Dot.

"But there was a problem," said Elfine. "When the people looked around, they saw that the world was completely dark. There was no sun, no moon, no stars. And Raven knew why."

She stopped, and leaned in.

"Because a very old, very rich chief, in a faraway house, was keeping all the light locked up in a box."

Part Four. The Boxes Inside the Boxes

"This chief was called the Sky Chief," said Elfine. "He lived in a big house at the end of the world. And inside the house was a wooden box. And inside that box was another box. And inside that one was another, and another, and another. Nine boxes in all. And in the very smallest one was the light of the whole world. The sun, the moon and the stars, all shining and glowing and humming."

"Why would he keep it?" said Felix.

"Because he wanted it all for himself," said Elfine. "So Raven made a plan."

"A trick," said Marion.

"A trick," said Elfine. "Raven was a shape-changer. He could turn into anything he liked. So he turned himself into a tiny pine needle, and he floated in the water outside the Chief's house. The Chief's daughter came out to fetch a drink. She dipped her cup in the water. And she drank the pine needle by accident."

"Eww," said Ollie.

"It's a very old story," said Elfine. "And inside the daughter, Raven turned into a baby. And in a little while, a new baby boy was born into the Chief's house. With bright, glittering eyes and a very loud cry."

"And did he cry for the box?" said Alex.

"Every day," said Elfine. "And the Chief, who loved him very much, couldn't bear to hear him cry. So in the end, he gave the baby the first box to play with. Then the second. Then the third. And on and on, until there was only one left, and the baby cried and cried, until the Chief opened that one too. Out spilled the light. And Raven turned back into a bird, and flew up through the smoke hole, with the light in his beak."

"Wow," said Dot.

"Right out into the dark world," said Elfine. "And do you know what happened?"

"What?" said everyone.

"He gave the light to everybody," said Elfine.

Part Five. The Day the Light Went Out

We didn't have long to think about it.

On Wednesday, the sky started to go dark at lunchtime.

Not the ordinary dark that comes when it's raining. It was a thick, heavy, inky dark that poured out of the sky and into the playground like black paint. By two o'clock the street lamps had come on. By half past two, you couldn't see your own hand in front of your face. By three o'clock the whole town was as black as the inside of a cupboard.

"It's an eclipse!" said Mister Harris, in a wobbly voice.

"It's not an eclipse," said Maya Singh, with her notebook out. "I checked. It's not on the calendar."

"Where's it coming from?" said Kenji.

It was Dot, from Reception, who noticed it first. She was the smallest, so she saw things nobody else saw. She tugged on Felix's sleeve and pointed over the school fence, to the old stone house next door.

"Look," she said. "It's the only thing with any light on."

Over the fence stood a tall, grey house with a high wall around it, and a gate that always had a padlock. Nobody ever went in or out. But in the top window, a bright golden glow was shining, as if somebody was holding a tiny sun in a box.

"That's where it's gone," said Felix.

"Someone's hogging it," said Alex.

"That's Old Mister Gloam's house," said Mister Harris. "Nobody talks to him."

That's when a shiny black feather landed on Alex's shoulder, and Mister Raven landed beside him, with a flap of wings. He wasn't wearing his white coat any more. He had feathers all down his arms, and a long glittering beak, and a naughty gleam in his eye.

"I think," said Mister Raven, "it's time I had a word with the Chief."

Part Six. The House with the Padlock

Alex, Felix, Elfine, Marion, Willow and Dot all went. Maya and Kenji and Ollie stayed behind to look after the rest of the class.

Mister Raven led us along the school fence, in the black, humming dark. He walked with one hand held out, feeling for the wall. "I need helpers," he said. "A good plan needs clever people with different strengths. A trickster can do a lot. But a trickster who's got friends can do the impossible."

"What do you need us to do?" said Marion.

"I need someone who can climb," said Mister Raven. "I need someone who knows the old stories. I need someone who can sneak in quietly and see everything. And I need two people who can talk to a lonely man."

"Two?" said Alex.

"Always two," said Mister Raven, glancing at him and Felix. "Two together are braver than one. And a bit more than twice as kind."

At last we came to the iron gate with the padlock. The golden light glowed through the bars, making long stripes across the road.

"I can't get through that," said Mister Raven. "The padlock's too tight. And if I fly over the wall, he'll see me coming."

"I can climb it," said Marion. She cracked her knuckles. "I'll go over the wall and open it from the inside."

"I'll go with you," said Elfine, nervously, pushing up her glasses. "I know the story. I can help us find the right box."

"And Willow will scout," said Marion.

Willow turned her head and looked at Mister Raven. Her tail flicked once. In cat language, that meant: I will help, but I am still not your friend.

"Good enough," said Mister Raven.

Part Seven. Inside the Dark Garden

Marion scrambled up the wall like a squirrel. She dropped on the other side with a soft thud, then reached through the bars and slid back the bolt. The gate swung open, creaking.

The garden was overgrown, and silent. Every window was covered with thick curtains, except the one at the very top. A tiny yellow cat's-eye of light shone out of it, like a lighthouse in the dark.

Willow slipped ahead of us, low to the ground, like a shadow made of fur. She crossed the lawn without a sound, climbed on to the back step, and looked in through a crack in the back door. Then she looked back at us, and her eyes were enormous.

"What can she see?" whispered Elfine.

"It's a man," whispered Marion, who had crept up beside her. "An old man, in a chair. Holding a big wooden box in his lap. There are lots of boxes."

"Nine of them," said Elfine. "Just like the story."

"And there's a little girl," said Marion. "She's sitting on the floor."

Everyone took a step closer. A voice floated out of the crack in the door, and it was a tiny, tired voice.

"Grandad," it said. "I'm hungry. And I can't see my colouring pencils. Can't we let some light out?"

"No, Pearl," said a gruff voice. "It's not safe. The light stays in the box."

Part Eight. What Felix Heard

That's when Felix did something very brave. He pushed open the back door, and stepped inside.

Alex followed him straight away, without a word. They were holding hands, and neither one let go.

The kitchen was very dark and very cold. There was one candle on the table, and an old man sat beside it in a big armchair. His face was lined and grey. His eyes were tired and red. He was clutching the biggest wooden box any of us had ever seen. Nine boxes were nested inside it, each one glowing round its edges.

Next to him, on the floor, sat a little girl, about the same size as Dot, with long dark hair.

"Who are you?" said the old man, sharply. "How did you get in? Get out! The light is mine!"

"Hello," said Felix. "I'm Felix. And this is Alex. We're from next door."

"We don't want to take it," said Alex. "We just want to know why you've got it."

The old man's hand shook. "Because," he said, and then he stopped.

The candle flickered. Pearl looked up at him with big, patient eyes.

"Because," said the old man again, and his voice cracked. "Because since my wife went away, it's been so dark. And I'm frightened of it. I didn't know what else to do. So I gathered all the light in one place, to hold on to it. Where I could see it. Where it couldn't leave me."

Felix took a small step closer. "It's okay to be scared of the dark," he said. "Lots of people are. Even people who are big. I'm sometimes scared of it too."

"You?" said the old man.

"Yes," said Felix. "And Alex isn't. But he holds my hand."

Part Nine. What Alex Said

For a long moment, the old man didn't say anything.

"But when you hold on to the light that tight," said Alex, in his calm, careful voice, "you can't see anything but the box. And the whole town is in the dark, and nobody can see you. And you can't see them. So you're alone in a little room with a candle."

"That doesn't sound very safe," said Pearl, quietly.

"It isn't," said Alex. "A light is better when it's shared. If you share a candle with another candle, you don't have less light. You have more."

Old Mister Gloam stared at the box in his hands.

"I never thought of it like that," he whispered.

"You can't be alone in the light if you've got friends in it," said Felix.

And that was the moment Raven chose to act. A small, black, fluffy baby bird, with huge glittering eyes, popped out from under the kitchen table and squeaked loudly: "Peep!"

Pearl gasped. "A baby!"

The baby raven hopped across the floor, climbed into the old man's lap, and nuzzled against his chest. It was the most adorable thing anyone had ever seen. The old man's face softened. And the little bird looked up at the box, and said again, in a tiny, hopeful voice: "Peep?"

Part Ten. The Last Box

"Is that a baby raven?" said Mister Gloam, in a wobbly voice. "Where did you come from?"

The baby raven peeped and pointed one wing at the smallest box.

"He wants to see it," said Pearl. "Please, Grandad. Just for a minute. He's only little."

"A minute," said Mister Gloam. He held the box. His fingers were trembling. "Just a peek. Only a peek."

He lifted the lid on the first box. Nothing but another box inside. He lifted the lid on the second. Another. The glowing grew brighter and brighter and brighter. By the time he reached the ninth, the whole kitchen was lit up golden, and everyone's faces were shining.

"The light!" said Elfine, from the doorway.

Mister Gloam opened the last box.

And out burst a ball of fire, round and warm and bright, with a thousand little sparkles around it. It was the sun, and the moon, and the stars, all tangled up together, humming like a hive of golden bees.

"Mine!" gasped the old man, and for a moment his hand closed round it.

But Pearl put her little hand on top of his. "Grandad," she said. "Please. We can share it."

Part Eleven. The Chimney

Mister Gloam looked down at Pearl, then at Alex and Felix, and then at the baby raven.

His eyes were wet.

"All right," he whispered. "All right. Maybe I've been silly."

He opened his hands.

The light floated up out of the box. And the baby raven flapped his wings, and grew, and grew, and grew, until he was a big, shining bird, taller than the table, with a long curved beak. In one swift gulp he caught the ball of light in his mouth.

"Quick!" shouted Mister Raven. "Out through the chimney!"

"The chimney?" said Marion. "It's tiny!"

"It's the only way out," said Mister Raven, with his mouth full of sunshine. It came out sounding like "Id'd da ony way ow."

The great black bird launched himself at the fireplace. He squeezed into the narrow chimney, flapping and wriggling. Soot flew everywhere. It billowed out of the fireplace in a thick black cloud. Marion coughed. Elfine sneezed. Willow, who had been sitting under the table, sprang at the cloud with her claws out, and caught one last loose spark before it fell.

"Nice catch, Willow," whispered Pearl.

And up above the roof, with a mighty flap of black wings, Raven burst out of the chimney into the night sky.

Part Twelve. Sun, Moon and Stars

We ran outside and stood in the garden, looking up.

Raven rose into the air, over the school, over the town, over the hills. His white feathers were not white any more. They were as black as coal, black as night, and so glossy that they shone blue and purple and green in the moonlight.

"His coat!" gasped Dot. "It's all gone black!"

"The smoke from the chimney," whispered Elfine. "That's the best bit of the old story. That's why ravens are black now. They used to be white, before they went up the chimney."

High above us, Raven opened his beak.

First he threw the stars. They flew out in a great glittering spray, hundreds and thousands of them, and stuck to the dark like silver sequins. Then he threw the moon. It rolled up into the sky, round and pale and quiet, and hung there, glowing. And last of all, he took the sun in his beak, and carried it far, far across the hills to the east. And he left it there, for the morning.

The whole town sighed.

The street lamps blinked. People came out of their houses with their mouths open. And Dot, the smallest of us all, held out her arms to the sky and yelled, in her loudest voice, "THE STARS ARE BACK!"

Part Thirteen. The Lonely Man and the Little Star

Old Mister Gloam stood on his doorstep, staring up at the sky.

He looked small, and tired. His shoulders drooped.

"I thought I'd never see them again," he whispered.

"You can see them any time you like," said Felix.

"Now that they're out," said Alex, "you don't have to hold on tight."

"But I'm still frightened," said Mister Gloam, and he said it very quietly. "When it gets dark."

That's when a black bird fluttered down out of the night and landed on his shoulder. Raven's feathers were still sooty, but his eyes sparkled. In his beak, he held a tiny, glowing speck of light, no bigger than a dandelion seed.

"I saved one," said Mister Raven. "A very small star. I thought you might like to keep it."

He dropped it in Mister Gloam's palm.

The old man closed his fingers round it. It glowed warm between them. "For me?" he said.

"For your window," said Mister Raven. "A little light, to keep you company on the dark nights. Just for you. The rest belongs to everybody."

Mister Gloam laughed, and wiped his eyes. It was the first time he had laughed in years. "Thank you," he said. "I think I've been very silly. But I think I'm ready to be less silly."

"Being scared isn't silly," said Pearl, hugging his arm. "It's just a feeling. And feelings pass. Especially with friends."

Part Fourteen. Spooky Sparkle Night

Saturday was Halloween, and the school was holding a Spooky Sparkle Party in the hall. Everybody was dressed up. Dot came as a very small, very loud ghost. Kenji was a robot. Ollie was a dragon, and Maya was a detective, with a notebook and a magnifying glass.

Alex and Felix, who had planned it together, had invited a special guest.

At seven o'clock exactly, there was a knock on the hall door. Old Mister Gloam stood on the doorstep, holding Pearl's hand. He was wearing his best coat. He looked nervous, but he had a smile on his face, and his little star was pinned on his lapel, glowing.

"Come in!" shouted Alex and Felix together.

"Come in, come in!" said Mister Harris. "We've got toffee apples!"

It was the best party the school had ever had. There were pumpkin lanterns and glow sticks and fairy lights strung across the ceiling. Everyone danced. Willow sat on top of the piano, looking superior. Elfine and Marion taught Pearl how to do the monster mash. And at the very end of the night, Mister Gloam stood up, tapped a spoon on a glass, and made a speech.

"I was frightened of the dark," he said. "Thank you for showing me I didn't have to be. All of you."

And he sat down, and everyone clapped, and clapped, and clapped.

Part Fifteen. What Mister Raven Said

When the party was over, Mister Raven came and sat beside us on the stage steps. His coat was black now, shiny and blue and purple in the light of the pumpkins. He was a little bit smaller than he had been, and a lot less cheeky.

"Everyone thinks tricksters are only clever," he said. "But I could only trick the box open."

He looked at Alex and Felix.

"You two were the ones who got the Chief to want to open it himself. Kindness turned the key."

"We were scared," said Felix.

"Brave is being scared and going in anyway," said Mister Raven. "Holding someone's hand."

"And you're not too small to help," said Dot, who was lying on the stage with her ghost sheet over her face.

"Exactly right," said Mister Raven.

Willow, who was now curled up in Marion's lap, opened one eye. She looked at Mister Raven for a long moment. Then, as slowly as possible, she closed it again.

"That means she likes you," said Elfine.

"It means she tolerates me," said Mister Raven.

"Same thing," said Marion.

Part Sixteen. The Ending, with a Hook

At the end of the night, we were all standing in the playground, waiting for our grown-ups. The sky was crammed with stars. They were brighter than any of us had ever seen.

Mister Raven stood next to us, with his black coat flapping in the breeze, looking at the moon.

"I should go," he said. "My work here is done. But before I do, I should warn you. I may have used up my last bit of cleverness."

"Why?" said Alex.

"Because my cousin's coming," said Mister Raven. He looked a bit nervous. "He's wild. He's cheeky. He's the only one more tricky than me. And he will steal your lunches."

"Your cousin?" said Maya, with her pencil already scribbling.

"Coyote," said Mister Raven. "He's yellow-eyed and quick and he never, ever stops talking. He's very funny. And he's a terrible influence. Hide your sandwiches."

Far away, from the hill behind the school, a long, wild howl rose into the night.

Awoooooooo!

Willow's fur stood up on end.

Mister Raven flapped his wings, bowed to us, and rose into the starry air. We watched him until he was a tiny black speck against the moon.

Then we looked at Alex and Felix. The twins looked at each other, with their eyes wide and shining. They said, at exactly the same time, "Monday."

The End.