The hammer rang once. A spark jumped off the anvil and did not go out. It waited. They followed.

It dropped into Fiddle's forge. Inkling had her tick-weight. Beto had his even-rule.

"A town has broken something," said Fiddle. "Try it and see."

The cart's bell rang once, and the wheels began to turn.

The cart stopped in Fourways, where four lanes met in a little square.

In one lane, the swing hung by one rope. In the next, the bread oven had a cracked door. In the third, the gate to the field had lost its hinge. And in the square, the water pump's handle flopped, because a pin had snapped.

"Can you mend them all?" said a mother.

Fiddle let Inkling and Beto lift the coal sack. It was light. There was only a little coal at the bottom.

"What does the fire tell you?" said Fiddle.

"There's only enough for one mend," said Beto. "Before the coals go cold."

So the town had to choose.

A white duck in a blue shirt waddled onto an upturned bucket.

"Hands up! I'll count," said Majori. "One hand for every house."

There were thirteen houses in Fourways.

Five hands for the swing. Four for the oven. Three for the pump. One for the gate. Five, four, three and one make thirteen.

"That's five hands for the swing," said Majori. "The biggest number is the winner."

Beto grabbed the tongs. "Most votes wins it!" said Beto. "Let's mend the swing."

"Wait before we decide," said Consenna. She was a young deer with a blue neckerchief. "Most is a start, not the end."

"But the swing got the most," said Beto.

"Five is the most," said Consenna. "Is five more than half?"

Beto thought. Half of thirteen is six and a half. Five is less than that. More than half the town had not chosen the swing.

He put the tongs down. He felt his face go hot.

"Here is my check," said Consenna. "Can everyone use it?"

They walked round all four lanes.

The swing was for the little ones. The oven was for the bakery lane. The gate was for one field.

"Who is left out?" said Consenna.

Then Inkling noticed something. Every single house had a bucket. And every bucket came to the pump.

A small field mouse stood at the edge of the square. She held a big wooden bucket, almost bigger than herself.

"There are only a few of us up the hill," said Fairling. "Three houses. Our water comes from that pump."

"Why didn't you say so?" said Beto.

"We can't win a vote alone," said Fairling quietly. "Please listen to the small side."

A calm green turtle in a yellow jumper sat down in the middle of the square.

"Tell us why first," said Reason. "Say your reason out loud. Then vote."

So every lane said why. The swing lane said the little ones were bored. The oven lane said the bread came out flat. The gate lane said the goats got out. And the hill said they had no water at all.

"A vote with a reason is a better vote," said Reason. "Now we know why. Vote again."

But the swing lane's children were cross. They stood together with their arms folded.

"We had the most hands," said the biggest girl. "Now it's being taken away."

Inkling went to sit with them. She didn't say they were wrong.

"It's not taken away," said Inkling. "It's waiting. I named things too soon too, once. Waiting is hard."

"Count them again, every hand," said Majori.

Eight hands for the pump. Three for the swing. Two for the oven. Eight, three and two make thirteen.

Eight and eight are sixteen. That is more than thirteen, so eight is more than half. A real majority.

The forge mended the pump's broken pin. Under the hole was an old iron patch. A tiny scratched hammer was on it.

"Three towns," said Beto. "Who keeps getting here first?"

The handle pumped! The whole town carried water up the hill to Fairling's house.

And the swing lane? They mended the swing themselves, with new rope from the cart. It did not need a forge at all.

With the last heat, Fiddle let them make a tally-peg: a short brass peg with thirteen notches, one for every house. It went on Inkling's belt.

"Push it, pull it, twist it, see," said Fiddle.

The cart's bell rang twice, and the road ran home.

The spark dimmed to a warm dot and settled back on the anvil. The Green was just the Green again.

Back on the Green

At home, Beto's family voted on what game to play. Four hands for tag. Two for hide and seek.

"Can everyone play?" said Beto. "Who is left out?"

His little cousin could not run fast yet. So they asked why, and voted again. Hide and seek won, and everyone played.

Tell the story back to someone. Why wasn't most votes enough?