Princess Polka Dot's Arc

Chapter 5 of 5

Both mayors had agreed to come. But agreement was not the same as peace. Princess Polka Dot pictured the festival day: two villages arriving, then splitting apart, each crowd hugging its own end of the field. They would eat separately, dance separately, and leave strangers again. She had no single thing to hold them in one place. Without a centerpiece, the day would fail even with both mayors standing there. She walked the empty field all morning, hunting for an idea. A banner was too small. A stage faced one way, not both. Then she remembered a clown who had performed at both villages years ago, back when the two still shared a laugh. She sent for Dotty Tumbles. Dotty arrived juggling, three balls spinning before the princess even spoke. Spots covered the clown's baggy suit, and a painted grin held steady. "I juggle for anyone who pays in applause," Dotty said, catching all three balls in one hand. "But I hear you've got a harder trick. You want two angry villages to clap at the same time." "I need something they can't split," the princess said. "Something that stands in the middle and belongs to everyone." Dotty tilted a painted eyebrow and pointed up. "Then don't build on the ground. Build in the sky. Nobody owns the sky." The princess followed the clown's finger upward, and the whole plan opened in her mind. She ordered cloth in every color, and she cut spots from each. Villagers who did not yet trust each other still knew how to sew. She gave the pink-village women one panel and the yellow-village women the next, so every seam joined two hands. Dotty kept them laughing through the long stitching, tossing spools instead of balls. By dusk they raised it. A great spotted balloon swelled above the field, a basket swinging beneath. Its panels glowed pink and yellow and blue, dotted top to bottom. People from both villages stepped back and stared up together, necks craned, mouths open. For one moment nobody stood on a separate side. They all stood under the same bright thing. "That," Dotty said, "is your centerpiece." The princess smiled. The balloon would anchor the festival. No crowd could drift from a thing that floated over the whole field at once. Then a messenger ran across the grass, out of breath. He had come straight from the two villages. "Both mayors," he gasped, "want to fly first. Mayor Victor says his village built the pink panels, so he rides first. Mayor Harold says yellow came first, so he rides first. They're already shouting." The princess looked up at her finished balloon. She had built the one thing both villages wanted. Now both wanted it alone, and the old quarrel had found a brand-new shape.