We all set to work as fast as we can.
We write …
and we draw …
and we draw …
and we write …
and we write …
and we write …
and we draw …
and we draw …
and we draw …
and we draw …
and we write …
and we write …
and, finally, we’re done!
“Look!” says Albert as we all pore over the pages. “There’s me!”
“And there’s me!” says Alice.
“And there’s me!” says Terry. “Look, Andy! I’m in a book! I’m in a book!”
“You’re in every book we write,” I remind him.
“So?” he says, shrugging. “That doesn’t make it any less exciting. Jill! I’m in a book … and so is Andy … and so are you!”
“Yes,” says Jill, “and it’s come out pretty well, too! In fact, I think it might be my favorite one yet.”
“Mine too!” says Terry. “The only thing that could possibly make it even better is if we could push the big red button now. Can we, Andy? Can we push it?”
“Yes!” says Albert. “Can we? Can we?”
“No!” I say. “It’s too dangerous! You heard what Madame Know-It-All said when we asked her about it. She saw a big explosion and then a whole bunch of DOOM!”
“But what if the big red thing Madame Know-It-All saw exploding wasn’t the big red button?” says Terry. “What if it was Mr. Big Nose’s big red nose exploding after she pushed him to the limit of his patience?”
“Yes!” says Jill. “She did say herself that she didn’t know absolutely everything, so it’s possible she may have been wrong about the big red button.”
“I suppose it’s possible,” I say, “but I don’t know—even if there’s only a small chance that pushing the button will blow up the whole world, well, that’s a pretty big risk to take.…”
“But not pushing it is a pretty big risk to take, too,” says Terry. “We might miss out on something really amazing—like rainbows coming out of our noses, for instance.”
“I want a rainbow to come out of my nose,” says Albert.
“So do I!” says Alice, jumping up and down.
“It does sound quite nice,” says Jill. “But, then, I wouldn’t want the whole world to blow up.”
“All right,” I say. “We’ll take a vote. All in favor of pushing the big red button so we can find out what happens when we push the big red button, raise your hands!”
Terry and Alice and Albert put their hands in the air.
“Okay,” I say, “now all those not in favor of pushing the big red button so we can find out what happens when we push the big red button, raise your hands!”
Me and Jill and Albert put our hands in the air. (Albert obviously doesn’t understand what voting is—or maybe he just likes putting his hands in the air. But a vote is a vote, so I count it.)
“Three in favor and three not in favor,” I say.
“It’s a tie,” says Jill.
“What about the baby?” says Terry. “The baby didn’t vote.”
“Good point, Terry,” I say. “But where is the baby?”
We look around.
OH NO! The baby is climbing up onto the big red button!
“No!” I yell.
But the baby just says, “Goo-goo gah-gah!” and pulls itself up onto the button …
crawls toward the middle …
and plops down.
KA-CHUNK goes the button.
“We’re doomed!” I yell. “We’re all doomed! The baby has just pressed the big red button!”
“What do we do now?” says Terry.
“There’s nothing we can do,” I say, “except wait for our doom.”
“But when is it going to happen?” says Terry.
“Yeah, why is it taking so long?” says Albert.
“Yeah!” says Alice. “You said the world was going to blow up! You promised!”
“I didn’t promise,” I say. “I said it might happen. Just be patient—you can’t rush the end of the world. It will happen when it happens.”
“If it happens!” says Jill. “I think it’s looking more and more likely that Terry is right—Madame Know-It-All confused the big red button with Mr. Big Nose’s nose.”
“Bad luck, Andy,” says Terry. “Sorry you were wrong about the world blowing up.”
“That’s all right,” I say. “Look on the bright side: the whole world didn’t blow up.”
“Yeah, but look on the not-so-bright side,” says Terry. “Rainbows didn’t come out of our noses, either.”
“Actually,” says Jill, “speaking of noses, mine does feel kind of funny.”
“Is it tingling?” says Alice.
“Yes!” says Jill.
“Mine too!” says Alice.
“And mine,” says Albert.
“And mine!” says Terry. “What about yours, Andy?”
“Well, I must admit, I do have a very odd sensation in my nose, but that doesn’t mean—”
“We’ve got rainbows coming out of our noses, Andy!” says Terry. “This is the best thing ever! And to think you didn’t want to push the button!”
“It is very cool to have rainbows coming out of our noses, that’s for sure,” I say. “But what would make it the best thing ever would be if it could somehow help us get our book—and the children—to Mr. Big Nose on time.”
“Wow!” says Jill. “Look at the size of the rainbow coming out of the Trunkinator’s trunk! It’s enormous!”
“Yeah,” says Terry. “It goes all the way over the forest and into Mr. Big Nose’s office!”
“This is just what we needed! We can use the rainbow as a bridge!” I say. “Come on, everybody, jump on!”
We all climb up onto the Trunkinator’s head and slide up the rainbow …
over the forest …
and down into Mr. Big Nose’s office.
“Looks like our work here is done,” I say as Alice, Albert, and the baby hug Mr. and Mrs. Big Nose.
“I guess we’d better get back to the treehouse,” says Terry. “Before the Trunkinator’s trunk-rainbow fades.”
We are just about to climb back onto the rainbow when Alice and Albert come running over.
“Good-bye, Andy, Terry, and Jill,” says Albert. “Thanks for the best babysitting day ever!”
“Goo-goo gah-gah,” says the baby.
“You’re welcome,” I say. “Come back whenever you like!”
“It was really nice to meet you,” says Jill. “And thanks for all your help looking after Andy and Terry.”
“See you next time,” says Terry.
We turn to leave.
“Wait a minute,” says Alice. She takes a black marker and writes WORLD’S GREATEST BABYSITTERS on one of Mr. Big Nose’s publishing trophies.
“It’s for all three of you,” says Alice.
“Thanks!” says Terry. “We love it!”
“Yes!” I say. “That’s definitely going in the trophy room!”
We climb back onto the rainbow and slide up …
over the forest …
and back down into the treehouse.
“What are we going to do now?” says Terry.
“Build another thirteen levels on our treehouse, of course,” I say.
“I hoped you were going to say that,” says Terry.
“I knew you were going to say that,” says Jill.
THE END
