“I’m in love, Benny. Real, passionate, undying, everlasting love,” Gnomeo said to his best friend. They were staring down at the shiny lawn mower parked in the corner of Miss Montague’s toolshed. Miss Montague, a human, had already left her house for the day. That meant that the ceramic gnomes, wooden whirligigs, concrete statues, plastic lawn ornaments, and tin weather vanes decorating her prizewinning garden could come to life. They were free to move around only when humans could not see them. Even though Miss Montague would never know it, Gnomeo, Benny, and all the other blue-painted gnomes in her garden took great pride in helping to keep her plants and lawn beautifully trimmed and tidy.

Benny was small, even by gnome standards, but he had a very tall pointed blue hat to make up for his short stature. Like Gnomeo, he loved a fine-tuned, high-horsepower lawn mower. But if there was one thing Gnomeo and Benny loved more than lawn mowers themselves, it was racing them. And today seemed like a good day for Gnomeo to make the red-hatted gnomes in the garden next door eat his blue dust.

“Come on. Let’s give those Reds another lesson in how it’s done,” Gnomeo said.

“We’ve got to do more than show them how it’s done,” Benny growled. Just thinking of the Reds made the normally mild-mannered gnome go a little crazy. “We’ve got to take their cheaply painted faces and grind them into the dirt. Grab them by their red hats and smash them against a wall over and over and over—”

“Whoa,” Gnomeo said, whacking Benny on the hat to snap him out of his sudden tirade. “Let’s go before Mom puts us to work. Shroom, are we all clear?”

A small blue-capped stone mushroom nodded from his lookout position by the door. Gnomeo pushed the lawn mower out of the shed and into the sunlight.

“The wheelbarrow is in the garden,” Benny whispered nervously as Gnomeo’s mother, Lady Bluebury, approached. “The pigeon has landed. The pigeon has landed. YOUR MOM IS COMING THIS WAY!”

“What?” Gnomeo asked. “Why didn’t you just say that?”

“I was speaking in code,” Benny replied sheepishly.

“Don’t worry. Just get this to the alley,” Gnomeo said, pointing at the lawn mower. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

Benny started to move the mower as Gnomeo and Shroom ran off to intercept Lady Bluebury.

“Mom!” Gnomeo cried out merrily, grabbing her arm and leading her away from the shed. “Have you ever seen our beautiful garden from this angle?”

“Oh yes. Beautiful. Especially the wisteria,” Lady Bluebury replied. “So serene. So majestic—”

“So dignified,” Gnomeo added in his most earnest tone as he gazed upon the wisteria.

The pretty flowering tree was planted in an old toilet bowl. Miss Montague thought the toilet gave her garden just the right touch of whimsy.

“That wisteria tree was your father’s pride and joy,” Lady Bluebury said with a distant sigh. “May he rest in pieces.”

Gnomeo put his arm around his mother and gave her a gentle hug.

“You remind me so much of him,” Lady Bluebury continued. Then she looked into her son’s face and smiled mischievously. “Which is why I want you to go out there and show those blooming Reds who’s really the best!”

Gnomeo was confused for a moment, and then a wide grin spread across his face. Lady Bluebury became serious again, and she waved her son away as though she had more important business to attend to somewhere else in the garden.

Gnomeo ran toward the gate that led to the back alley—and the race—as fast as he could.