“Tomorrow! Tomorrow! Tomorrow!” Pigúiça hopped around the garden, under the crescent moon, swatting the air with her paws. Fofuxo hopped along, just to keep her company.
“Tomorrow is my party!” she sang. “There'll be cake! And balloons! And the whole gang!” But after about ten hops, she stopped. She stood looking at the moon.
“Fofuxo...” “Yes?” “What if nobody comes? What if the cake crumbles? What if I don't like the party? What if it rains?”
The questions came out one after another, fast, like popcorn popping. Pigúiça felt her tummy fill up with sparks that went up and down without stopping.
“I think I'm nervous,” she said. “But it's a good nervous. Or a bad one. I don't know.” “Both, sometimes,” said Fofuxo. “When we wait a lot for something good, our tummy gets all stirred up. It's wanting the party to hurry up and get here.”
The two of them sat down in the grass. Fofuxo looked up at the sky, full of stars.
“I have an idea. Let's take each worry and put it on a star. It stays up there, looking after it, and you don't have to carry it.” Pigúiça thought. “Can I?” “You can.”
She picked a very twinkly little star, right next to the moon. “That one is the ‘what if nobody comes’ one.” She looked for another, a little bigger. “That one is the cake one.” She chose a third, very low, almost touching the trees. “That one is the rain one.”
Every time she put a worry away, she let out a slow breath: fffffuuu. The sparks in her tummy cooled down, one by one.
“Now,” said Fofuxo, “let's think of one good thing about tomorrow. Just one.” Pigúiça closed her eyes. “When Nina arrives running, with that jump of hers, to hug me.” “How lovely,” said Fofuxo.
The night was calm. The stars had taken over everything. You could feel that the party was already there, waiting quietly behind the night. It would come at just the right time, with no hurry. It only needed Pigúiça to sleep so that tomorrow could arrive.
The two of them went back inside. Pigúiça climbed into bed, and Fofuxo lay down beside her.
“Tomorrow,” she murmured, without hopping, very softly. “Tomorrow,” Fofuxo repeated.
And, with her worries tucked away in the stars and one good thing in her thoughts, Pigúiça fell asleep.
