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Post lands on the basket rim. He flaps hard and slips. He drops into the soup. Ruby lifts him, still laughing. Grandma Vega opens the red tube. A letter asks help from Blue Valley.
The Skylark waits, patched red and gold. Ruby has polished the basket for years. Today Grandma Vega hands her the cap. The leather cap is Ruby's size. Grandma Vega says, First voyage, crew.
They read the damp letter together. Lavender farmers write from Blue Valley. Their festival flag is stuck. It flaps on the chapel tower. Please free it before sunset, they write.
Grandma checks ropes and sandbags. She licks one finger because she reads the wind. She reads the wind like a captain. Burner roars. Rooftops fall away. Ruby's stomach does a happy flip.
The basket lifts, light as a kite. Blue roofs shrink into tiny squares. Grandma nods, so Ruby knows her job. Hands on the rope, eyes on the captain. Ruby holds fast and watches her.
Post dries on the burner frame. He preens his white feather proudly. Below, purple fields stripe the valley. The air smells sweet like lavender. The sun warms Ruby's round cheeks.
A playful gust pushes the basket sideways. Ruby leans the wrong way, then freezes. The basket tilts. The valley slides. Listen to the wind, Grandma says. Hands on the rope. Eyes on me.
Ruby copies Grandma's stance and grip. She breathes out and steadies the basket. The gust passes. The Skylark rides true. Ruby smiles, ready for her job. Hands on the rope. Eyes on the captain.
Blue Valley spreads like a quilt. A white chapel stands on a hill. Its tower holds a bright yellow flag. The flag is twisted and stuck. Tiny people wave and ring bells.
Grandma licks one finger and grins. The wind comes steady from the west. We drift beside the tower, she says. Ruby, hold the line and the hook. Eyes on the captain. Listen for my word.
The Skylark floats level with the tower. The bell metal shines near Ruby's hands. The yellow flag whips and snaps. Ruby swallows but keeps her eyes forward. She feels ready. She listens and moves.
Grandma speaks calm, clear words. Lower. Left. Hold. Now pull. Ruby moves the hook with care. The flag slips free and flutters. Cheers rise from the square below.
Ruby gathers the freed flag into the basket. Grandma eases the heat on the burner. They drift down toward the festival field. The lavender smell grows stronger and sweeter. People guide them with long ropes.
The basket touches down to cheers. Farmers in purple aprons run close. Thank you, Captain. Thank you, crew. They share warm lavender cakes and milk. Post pecks crumbs and coos happily.
Together they carry the bright flag. They raise it on the chapel tower. The cloth streams above Blue Valley. A child crowns Ruby with purple flowers. Ruby tells Grandma she learned to listen.
The farmers give Ruby a tiny stamp. A purple flower shines on the paper. First stamp, Grandma says with a wink. Post puffs his chest and salutes. The sun drifts lower behind the hills.
At dusk, Ruby opens her voyage journal. She writes about wind, rope, and captain. She writes about the sweet purple fields. She glues in the purple flower stamp. Post dozes on the warm burner frame.
The Skylark rests, patched red and gold. Ruby knows a good crew member listens. She listens to the wind and her captain. Goodnight, Blue Valley and brave Skylark. Post sleeps on the frame, one eye closed.
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