Carl and the Hedgehog Who Rolled Away

8 pages · 7 min · ages 5+

▶ Watch the read-aloud on YouTube

“There's a new neighbour!” Monkey came swinging down the vine so fast he almost landed in the river. “By the big fern! She's tiny and she's got spikes!” Everybody rushed to see. Everybody except Carl, who never rushed, and arrived last, chewing a leaf. Under the big fern sat a very small hedgehog with a pink nose and big worried eyes. “Hello!” shouted Monkey. “Welcome!” shouted Tuck. “Tweet!” shouted Pip. The hedgehog squeaked, curled up into a round spiky ball, and rolled away down the bank. Bumpity, bumpity, plop. Into the reeds. “Hm,” said Carl.

Her name, they found out later, was Hazel. She had moved in under the big fern because it was quiet there. It had been quiet, until now. Carl sat down by the river and thought about Hazel. Carl did most of his thinking sitting down. He wanted to welcome her properly, with the best present in the whole jungle: an orange. So he picked the roundest orange from the tree, balanced it on his flat head, and walked slowly towards the reeds. “Hello, Hazel,” said Carl. It was the softest hello he had. The reeds rustled. A spiky ball rolled out the other side and away across the grass.

“You're doing it wrong,” said Monkey. “She needs a proper welcome. A BIG one.” Tuck brought his coconut drum. Pip warmed up a whistle. Reginald wrote WELCOME HAZEL on a banana leaf in his neatest letters. Monkey counted them in. “One, two, three!” Boom-boom-boom went the drum. Tweet-tweet-tweeeet went Pip. “WELCOME, HAZEL!” they all shouted at the fern. The fern shook. A spiky ball shot out of it like a pea from a pea shooter, rolled across the grass, bounced off a rock and disappeared into the long grass. “Hm,” said Carl.

“Right,” said Monkey. “Plan B. We go and get her.” Monkey went left. Tuck went right, very slowly. Pip flew up high to look. Reginald went through the middle, saying “Pardon me” to every blade of grass. “There she is!” shouted Pip. The spiky ball saw them coming. It rolled down the hill, faster and faster, with all four of them running after it, and Carl walking after all four of them. Bumpity, bumpity, bumpity. At the bottom of the hill was the river. Plop.

The spiky ball bobbed on the water like a little brown chestnut. It was drifting away. “Oh no, oh no, oh no,” said Monkey. Carl did not say oh no. Carl stepped into the river, slow and steady, and swam out until he was right next to the spiky ball. He did not grab it. He did not shout. He just floated beside it, so that it bumped gently against his side and stopped. Then he swam back to the bank, very slowly, with the spiky ball resting against him, and he left it on a warm flat stone in the sun. “Everybody back,” said Carl quietly. “Right back.” For once, everybody listened.

Monkey tiptoed back to the bushes. So did Tuck and Pip, and Reginald, who was very bad at tiptoeing. Carl lay down in the grass, not too close to the stone, not too far. He put the orange on his head. He closed his eyes halfway. And he did the thing Carl did best of all. Nothing. The sun moved across the sky. A butterfly landed on Carl's ear. Monkey got so bored he started counting his own fingers. “How long is he going to do nothing?” whispered Tuck. “As long as it takes,” whispered Reginald. On the warm stone, the spiky ball wobbled. A pink nose came out.

Then two eyes came out. Then four small feet. Hazel uncurled, very slowly, and looked at Carl. Carl did not move. She tiptoed across the grass. She sniffed his big front foot. She sniffed his whiskers. Carl did not move. Then Hazel climbed up Carl's nose, over his eyebrows, onto his flat head, and sat down right next to the orange. She sniffed the orange. She liked the orange. She curled up beside it, not in a scared ball but in a sleepy one, and fell asleep. On Carl's head sat two round things, one orange and one spiky, and you could hardly tell which was which.

Monkey came out from behind the bush. Tuck came out. Pip came out. Reginald came out, saying “Pardon me” to the bush. They crept up, very, very quietly. “Carl,” whispered Monkey. “Is she your friend now?” Before Carl could answer, the spiky ball on his head uncurled. Hazel sat up, yawned, and looked at them all, one after another: Monkey, Tuck, Pip and the big polite crocodile. Everybody held their breath. Hazel did not roll away. She looked at Carl. She looked at the orange. And she said her very first word. “Hm,” said Hazel.