“Let’s see,” she said, leaning in close. Pip handed her one of the orange balls. It felt a little heavier than she expected. “Maybe they’re too heavy for my hands,” she guessed.

The crowd, which had been watching quietly, erupted into cheers. Pip beamed, his painted smile growing even wider.

When the marching band finished its lively tune, a huge, sparkling float rolled by, bearing a troupe of performers. At the front of the float, perched on a golden seat, was a clown with a big orange nose, a rainbow‑striped jacket, and shoes so huge they squeaked with each step. He wore a painted smile that seemed to glow, but his eyes were warm and friendly.

Suddenly, the air around them seemed to sparkle. Bubbles of all shapes and sizes began to float from the whistle, dancing in the air like tiny planets. Tara reached out, her fingers brushing against one of the bubbles. Instead of popping, it turned into a miniature carousel, complete with tiny horses that galloped in circles.

Tara giggled. “You saved my Saturday, Pip. Now we both have a story to tell.”