The bouncy house arrived before the sandwiches, and Leni nearly forgot to breathe.
It rose on the grass in yellow and blue stripes, bigger than Dad's shed. It huffed and wobbled like a friendly dragon waking up.
Leni stood beside the painting table with her best brush in one hand. Today was her little brother Nico's summer party, and she had an important job.
She had to paint every party bag with a bright picture.
Nico wanted rockets. Dad wanted neat names. Leni wanted them to look good enough that nobody laughed.
Her friend Ravi came over, holding two cups of orange squash. His paper crown had slipped over one eyebrow.
"You look like a serious artist," Ravi said.
"I am a serious artist," Leni said. Then her brush dripped green paint on her shoe.
Ravi grinned, but he did not laugh. That helped.
⁂
Children bounced in the bouncy house. They sprang up, flopped down, and squealed when the floor wobbled.
Leni painted a rocket on the first bag. It had red flames and a silver nose.
"Brilliant," Ravi said. "That one looks fast."
Leni's shoulders went loose. She painted another rocket, then a star, then a moon with a smile.
Soon, a neat row of party bags stood drying in the sun. Each one had a name and a picture.
Only one bag was left.
It was plain brown, with no name tag.
"Whose is that?" Ravi asked.
Leni checked the list on the table. Nico, Asha, Ben, Poppy, Ravi. No spare bag.
"Maybe Dad put out an extra," she said.
She picked it up. Something inside gave a tiny tap.
Ravi leaned closer. "Party bags don't tap."
Leni's fingers tightened around the handles. She could hear the bouncy house blower humming behind her.
It's only a sweet rolling about, she told herself.
⁂
A gust of warm wind lifted the paper plates. One napkin sailed into the paint pot.
At the same moment, the bouncy house gave a huge wobble. Nico bounced too near the door and landed in a heap, giggling.
Everyone looked that way.
Everyone except Leni.
The plain party bag twitched.
Then a thin line of blue paint appeared on its front, though Leni had not touched it.
The line curled into a little door.
Ravi's mouth fell open. "Did you paint that?"
"No," Leni whispered.
The painted door grew a tiny golden handle. It shone in the sun like a sweet wrapper.
Leni looked for Dad, but he was helping Nico find his shoe. Mum was carrying the birthday cake from the kitchen.
The bag tapped again. This time it sounded like a knock.
Ravi took one step back. "Maybe we should leave it alone."
Leni wanted to agree. Her hands were shaking, and her shoe still had green paint on it.
But the painted door opened by itself.
From inside the party bag came a soft voice, no louder than a bee.
"Please," it said. "The colours are getting out."
Leni stared at the open door.
Behind her, the bouncy house suddenly turned purple.
