The Bold Tin Soldier's Adventures - Part 2 🪖💙

Hello friends and welcome to Sleep Tight Stories. The bold, tin soldier is very happy in his new home, even with all the adventures he has had so far. He got a chance to be reunited with the lamb on wheels and meet new people. Arnold makes him a fort to watch over and the adventures continue. The bold, tin soldier's adventures heart too. The captain stood at his post all through dinner that night and the next day and the day after that. Arnold played with his soldiers every afternoon. Sometimes gentle battles on the carpet, sometimes parades across the kitchen table. Sometimes just standing guard while Arnold did his homework. Three days after the fort building on a cold, grey afternoon when the sky looked like it might snow again, Arnold's mother had a visitor. Arnold, this is Mrs. Patterson and her son, Tad, mother said. Why don't you take Tad to the playroom while we have tea? Tad was bigger than Arnold, louder too. He stomped up the stairs like each step had done something wrong. What toys you got? Tad asked, pushing the playroom door so hard it banged against the wall. I have soldiers, Arnold said, and some blocks and... But Tad had already spotted the box on the shelf. He grabbed it and dumped the soldiers out onto the floor. They clattered and scattered. The captain landed on his side, sword jabbing into the carpet. The sergeant hit the baseboard. The drummer boy rolled under the toy chest. Hey, be careful, Arnold said. They're just toys. Tad grabbed the captain and tried to make him stand on the soft carpet. The captain's tin feet sank in. He tilted. Tilted, fell over. Tad tried again. Same result. Stand up, Tad shook him. The captain's head rattled. His sword knocked against his tin side. Stand up. Arnold reached for his captain. You have to put them on something hard like the, I know how toys work. Tad dropped the captain and grabbed three more soldiers. Tried to line them up. They all fell over on the plush carpet. The captain lay where Tad had dropped him, looking sideways at his men scattered across the floor. The corporal was face down near the window. The sergeant had landed half under the toy chest. They couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Not with Tad's eyes on them. These are silly. Tad announced. They won't even stand up. He kicked at the pile of soldiers. Not hard, but enough to send the drummer boy sliding into the wall with a tiny clink. Don't kick them. Arnold's voice went high. I'm not playing with these anymore. Tad looked around the room. What else you got? His eyes landed on the white rocking horse in the corner. No, that's Richards. Arnold started to say, but Tad was already climbing on. The horse felt the boy's weight. Heavy, graceless. Nothing like Richards careful riding. Giddy up. Tad bounced in the saddle. The horse began to rock. Couldn't help it. That's what rocking horses do when someone bounces on them. Faster. Tad kicked his heels into the horse's wooden sides. The horse rocked harder. Back and forth. Back and forth. Moving across the floor the way rocking horses do when they get going. Toward the middle of the room. Toward where the captain lay on his side on the carpet. The horse saw him. Saw his friend from the store, the brave tin soldier who'd saved the sawdust doll just days ago. He tried to shift his weight. Tried to rock sideways. Tried to stop. But Tad kept bouncing. Kept kicking. And the rockers kept rocking. Moving forward. Forward. Giddy up. Giddy up. The captain saw the rocker coming. Saw the curved wood descending. Wanted to roll to scramble to shout at the horse that it wasn't his fault. But he couldn't move. Now with Tad right there. The rocker came down on the captain's sword. Crunch. The sword snapped at the base. The shiny soldered spot cracked apart. The blade separated from the captain's side and skittered across the carpet. The horse kept rocking. Tad kept bouncing. And the captain lay there, swordless. Arnold made a small sound. Not quite a gasp. Not quite a cry. Tad finally stopped bouncing. Climbed off the horse and said, This is boring too. What else you got? He spotted the lamb on wheels near the door and grabbed her string. Arnold didn't answer. He was kneeling on the floor picking up his captain. Picking up the broken sword. Arnold, his mother's voice from downstairs. Time for cookies. Coming. Arnold called back. But his voice was tight. Tad thundered out of the room and down the stairs. Arnold staying on the floor holding the captain in one hand and the broken sword in the other. The shiny metal spot just that morning it had been there. Roof that the captain could be fixed. Was now a jagged edge of torn tin. I'm sorry. The white rocking horse whispered the moment Tad's footsteps faded. I couldn't stop. I couldn't. Not your fault. The captain said. His voice came out steady even though everything felt wrong. A captain without a sword. How could he lead his men like this? Arnold set the captain gently on the shelf. Set the broken sword beside him. I'll be right back. The boy whispered. The playroom went quiet except for the wind outside rattling the window. The sergeant crawled out from under the toy chest. Sir? I'm alright Sergeant. Your sword sir. I know. The other soldiers gathered around the shelf looking up at their captain. The drummer boy, the corporal, the privates. All of them whole. All of them with their weapons intact. And their captain standing guard with nothing but a broken edge where his sword used to be. You're still our commander. The corporal said quietly. Sword or no sword. The captain looked down at his men. All their painted faces looking up at him with something that might have been concerned or might have been faith. Thank you. He said. But inside where his tin heart should be, he wasn't sure he believed it. Arnold came back upstairs with his mother right behind him. Let me see. She said. Arnold handed her the captain and the broken sword. She turned them in the light, examining the jagged edge. Patrick can fix this. She said. Really? Really and truly. Come on. The garage smelled like coal and metal. Patrick looked up from his workbench when they came in. What's happened here? He asked. Tad broke his sword. Arnold said quietly. Patrick's weathered face went soft. Ah, well. Let's see what we can do. He set the captain on his workbench and lit his soldering iron. The tip glowed orange, then red hot. The captain felt Patrick's rough fingers holding him steady. Felt the sword blade positioned against his side, then heat. Intense, focused, right where the break had been. The solder melted, flowed, cooled. Patrick lifted the captain up, turning him in the light. The sword stuck out from his side solid again. And where it attached, a spot of bright silver-white solder gleamed. There, Patrick said. That spot there, that's his metal from battle. Shows he's been through something and came out stronger. Arnold's face lit up. Like a real soldier. Exactly like a real soldier. Two days later, the kitchen smelled like vanilla and butter and sugar. Susan was baking cookies, lower, dusting her apron. Arnold came in still carrying the captain. Can I have a cookie? They're still hot. Sit up at the table and I'll bring you one with milk. Arnold climbed onto the tall kitchen stool and set the captain on the shelf beside him. Right next to the big wooden barrel where Susan kept the sugar. The lid was off. The barrel was full to the brim with white grains. Mirabelle came in dragging her lamb. Can I have a cookie too? Of course, dear. The children sat. Susan brought milk and cookies. They ate and talked about school, about the new snow outside, about whether they'd go sledding tomorrow. Arnold waved his hands while they talked, the way he always did when he got excited. His elbow bumped the shelf. The captain wobbled, tipped, fell, plop, right into the sugar barrel. White grains flew up and showered down. The captain landed upright, buried to his neck in sweetness. Everything went white and quiet. Above him, Arnold's voice said, come on, Mirabelle, let's go see if Richard wants to sled tomorrow. Two sets of footsteps were running out. The captain stood alone in the sugar barrel, surrounded by white crystals that pressed in from all sides. He could barely move his arms. His sword was pinned against his side. Above, a thin circle of light where the barrel's mouth was. The captain started cutting steps with his sword. Stabbing the blade into the packed sugar, pulling and climbing, harder than he'd expected. Sugar had weight and resistance. Cut, whole climb. Cut, whole climb. He'd made it maybe three inches up when he heard footsteps. And then Susan's voice. What's that scratching? The footsteps came closer. Sounds like a mouse trying to get at the sugar. The captain froze. Susan grabbed the lid. Shoo, get out of there you. She lifted the lid all the way off, looked down and blinked. Arnold, she called, Arnold. Arnold came running. What? I found your captain. He's in the sugar barrel. Arnold's face appeared over the rim. How did you get in there? Susan reached in and plucked the captain out, sugar cascading off him. She set him on the counter and brushed him off with her apron. You must have dropped him when you were eating cookies, she said. Good thing I heard the scratching. Arnold picked up the captain, turning him in the light. Sugar still clung to his joints, making tiny grinding sounds when he moved. Thank you Susan. Upstairs, Arnold set the captain back with his men. The sergeant looked him over, taking in the sugar still stuck in his uniform. Sir, what happened? The captain shook himself. A few more grains fell out. I'll tell you later, Sergeant. But inside, where his tin heart should be, he was smiling. Some adventures you plan, some adventures just happen. And the ones that just happen are the ones you remember. Saturday morning came cold and bright. Arnold's mother bundled him and Mirabel into coats and scarves. I need to get something for your cousin Madeline, she said. We'll go to the store. Arnold reached for the captain. Can I bring him? Just keep him in your pocket. I don't want you losing him. The captain settled into Arnold's coat pocket. Warm and dark. He could hear the boys' heart beat through the fabric, feel the rhythm of his steps. The car engine rumbled, then stillness as they parked. Stay close, mother said as they walked through the doors. The store smelled like it always had. Wood polish and new paint and something sweet from the candy counter. The captain felt Arnold's pocket jostle as they walked. They stopped at the toy department. Arnold leaned over a humming top, watching it spin. Mirabel pointed at a doll in a green dress. Arnold sneezed. His whole body jerked. The captain flew out of his pocket, tumbled through the air and landed. Clink right side up on the counter, among his old friends. You came back. The calico clown flipped over in excitement. Tell us everything, the candy rabbit said as he hopped closer. The monkey on a stick swung down from his perch. We thought you were gone forever. Arnold was still watching the humming top, his back to the counter. Mirabel had wandered toward the dolls. I can't stay long, the captain said quietly, but I wanted to tell you I'm doing well. The boy who bought me, Arnold, he's kind, takes good care of me and my men. What's it like? The clown asked, living in a house. There's a lamb on wheels there. She used to live here, remember? And next door, there's a sawdust doll and a white rocking horse. The sawdust doll? The candy rabbit asked, is she happy? Very happy. And the captain paused. Guess what? I fell in a sugar barrel last week. The monkey started laughing. A sugar barrel? All the way in. Had to cut steps with my sword to climb out. Your sword, the clown leaned closer. It looks different. It broke, had to get it repaired. This spot here? The captain turned to show his medal. The gardener who fixed it says it's like a medal from battle. The clown looked at his own silk trousers, the ones the captain had saved from the gas jet fire. We both got medals then. I suppose we did. Arnold's voice said, Mirabel, come look at this top. The captain glanced toward the boy. I have to go soon. Do you miss it here? The candy rabbit asked softly. The captain looked around the toy department. At the shelves he'd stood on for weeks. At the gas jets overhead. At his friends gathered close. Sometimes, he said, but I have a home now. A real home. With a boy who carries me in his pocket and builds me forts. And friends who, Arnold, mother's voice, are you ready? Just a minute. Arnold called back. He turned from the humming top. Saw the captain on the counter. My captain, he scooped him up. I forgot I brought you. Mom, I almost left him here. Well, you found him. Now come on. We need to pick something for Madeline. Mother chose the candy rabbit, lifted him right off the counter and carried him to the clerk. The rabbit's eyes met the captain's as Arnold turned away. The captain gave a small nod. Your adventure's just starting, friend. The rabbit winked back. The car ride home felt different. Arnold held his captain in his hand this time, not his pocket, and kept looking at him. He kept his thumb on the metal spot. I thought I lost you, Arnold said quietly. The captain wanted to tell him, you didn't lose me. I was exactly where I needed to be. Saying goodbye. But toys can't speak when people are watching. So he just stayed still in Arnold's warm hand and watched the snowy streets go by. Home looked different too, somehow. Warmer. More solid. Richard and Dorothy came to visit when they got back. The playroom was crowded. The sawdust doll on her cushion. The white rocking horse by the window. The lamb rolling in circles. A fire cracked in the fireplace. Hot cocoa smell drifted up from the kitchen. Snow fell heavier outside, but inside, everything was warm and bright. Arnold set the captain to his own. The sergeant stood at attention. The corporal saluted. The drummer boy's tiny drumsticks gleamed in the firelight. When the children went down for cocoa and cookies, the lamb rolled close. So you saw your old friends. I did. The white rock was covered in the snow. The white rock was covered in the snow. So you saw your old friends. I did. The white rocking horse shifted his weight. Are you sad to leave them again? The captain looked around the playroom at his men standing proud in their ranks at Arnold's careful block fort in the corner. At the metal gleaming on his side, proof that broken things could be made whole again. At friends surrounding him, friends who'd become as dear as the ones he'd left behind. Through the window, he could see snow falling on the yard where Patrick had defended them from the bean shooting boys. Where the bird had apologized for pulling the lamb's wool. Where Arnold had first carried him home in a brown paper package. No, the captain said finally, I'm not sad. I have two homes now. One where I came from and one where I belong. Downstairs, the children laughed. Arnold's voice rose above the others, telling Richard about the humming top at the store. Outside, snow covered everything in white. The trees, the grass, the roof of Patrick's garage, where the soldering iron was cooling on the workbench. Inside, the bold, thin soldiers stood with his friends and his men, sword gleaming, metal bright. Exactly where he was meant to be. And that is the end of our story. Good night. Sleep tight.