Island Time

Starring Sparks, Edna

Sparks the Papillon and Edna fly to Greece for a grand adventure, where they taste briny olives and creamy hummus, drift beneath a rainbow of hot air balloons, and lose all track of time wandering a sun-drenched island. When the cruise ship horn blares and they realize they are about to be left behind, the two friends must sprint, scramble, and laugh their way back — barely making it up the gangway. The story celebrates the joy of savoring every moment, even when it means cutting things a little close.

Sparks pressed his tiny black nose against the airplane window. His butterfly ears were so big they bumped the glass. "Edna," he whispered, "are we there yet?" Edna was already pulling a button from her cardigan pocket, turning it over in her fingers the way she always did when she was excited. "Nearly," she said. "I can smell the salt from here."

They landed on a white island where every building was the color of fresh cream. The harbor smelled of salt fish and warm stone. A man at a little table waved them over and set out two small dishes. One held wrinkly black olives. The other held a pale scoop of hummus the color of afternoon sunshine. Sparks sniffed it. Then sniffed it again.

Sparks licked a tiny bit of hummus. His ears shot straight up. "It tastes like clouds," he said, which made no sense, but Edna nodded seriously. She popped an olive into her mouth and made a face so sour and surprised that Sparks burst out laughing. "I thought I liked olives," she said. She ate three more anyway.

After lunch they wandered up a staircase that twisted between white walls. At the top, a whole sky full of hot air balloons drifted past, striped red and yellow and deep violet. Sparks froze on the top step. "Edna," he breathed. "How do they stay up?" Edna shielded her eyes and watched a violet one drift slowly right overhead. "Magic and fire," she said. "Both at once."

They watched the balloons until one drifted all the way out over the sea. Then they followed a cat down another lane. Then Edna found a button on the ground and held it up to the light. Then Sparks chased a shadow that looked interesting. The afternoon got longer and softer and slower. Nobody looked at a watch.

Then a horn bellowed across the whole island. One long, low blast that shook Sparks's ears flat against his head. He turned toward the harbor. The cruise ship was moving. "Edna!" he yelped. Edna spun around. She grabbed Sparks under one arm like a loaf of bread, tucked her cardigan tight, and ran.

Sparks could see the gangway still out. Just barely. "Faster!" he barked. His ears streamed back like two black flags. Edna's red lips were pressed in a tight line. She was not fast, but she was determined, and those are not always the same thing. She reached the gangway with one shoe half off and every silver hair flying. A crew member grabbed her hand and pulled.

They stood on the deck and caught their breath. Sparks's heart was going very fast. Edna fixed her shoe and smoothed her cardigan. The island grew smaller and pinker behind them as the sun went down. Sparks leaned against Edna's ankle. She reached down and scratched one big black ear. They did not say anything. The ship moved on.