Caleb and his dad had pitched the tent in the backyard that evening. They had zipped the flap, rolled out two sleeping bags, and clicked on a flashlight that made a round, golden circle on the roof. Caleb yawned a big yawn, closed his eyes, and began to pretend.
In his pretend, the tent flap opened onto a campground he had never seen. The moon was round and bright. Little lanterns hung from every tree, glowing the color of honey. The grass was soft, and the whole place smelled of warm cocoa and toasted marshmallows.
Caleb looked down. His flashlight was in his hand, and his dad was right beside him, holding two long sticks.
"What a cozy place," said Dad. "Shall we look around together?"
"Yes," said Caleb.
They walked along a wide, lit path, past a stack of firewood and a row of tiny striped tents. Caleb's flashlight made a bright circle on the ground. He swung it up, and the circle landed on a branch.
There sat a small round owl with big, kind eyes. She wore a tiny scarf the color of cranberries.
"Hoo-hoo! Hello, Caleb," she said. "I'm Wren. I've been hoping someone with a flashlight would come by. Tonight is the Marshmallow Supper, and I'm in charge of the fire."
"A real campfire?" asked Caleb.
"A real one, with grown-ups to tend it," said Wren, fluttering down to his shoulder. "Your dad can help. But I need someone to carry the first marshmallow to the big log, where everyone is waiting. It's the very first one of the night, and that's a big job."
Caleb looked at the marshmallow. It was fluffy and white and a little bigger than his fist. He looked at the big log, where a crowd of friendly campers was sitting. There were two rabbits in sweaters, a sleepy badger, and a family of ducks in knitted hats. They all waved.
Caleb felt a little shy about so many eyes. He stood up tall, took a slow breath, and felt his dad's warm hand on his back.
"I'll walk right next to you," said Dad.
So Caleb held the marshmallow carefully in both hands, and Wren rode on his shoulder, and the three of them went down the glowing path. Step by step, the lanterns seemed to twinkle in time with his feet.
When they reached the log, Caleb held the marshmallow high. Everyone clapped softly, the way you clap when you don't want to wake a baby.
"Thank you, Caleb," said the badger, yawning.
Dad lit the fire, small and steady. Caleb put the marshmallow on his stick and held it out, and Dad held the stick with him. It turned golden, then browner, then perfect. Caleb blew on it until it was cool. It was warm and sweet and gooey, and the best marshmallow in the whole world.
Wren sat in his lap while the rabbits shared their cocoa, and the ducks hummed a slow song. Caleb pointed his flashlight at the sky, and the circle of light drifted across the stars like a little moon of his own.
"You did well tonight," said Wren. "You stepped up and did it, and your dad was right there."
"I know," said Caleb. "He always is."
The fire got lower and softer. The song got slower. The lanterns blinked gently, one by one, like sleepy eyes.
Dad scooped Caleb up, and Wren fluffed her scarf. "Good night, Caleb," she whispered. "Hoo-hoo."
The next thing Caleb knew, he was in the tent in the backyard, tucked snug in his sleeping bag. The flashlight made its golden circle on the roof, and Dad was beside him, humming. The air smelled a little like marshmallows.
Caleb's eyes grew heavy. His toes were warm. His heart was calm. He snuggled down, listened to Dad's soft humming, and fell fast asleep.
馃寵 The End 馃寵
This story was written by AI for an example child named Caleb, and it passed the same safety check every Tuck-In Tales story gets before it's sent.