Four Wheels and a Little Courage

Four brand-new roller skates gleamed in the sunshine on the little practice clearing beside Wuselwood. Puschel wore a yellow sports shirt and navy shorts; Flauschi wore a mint shirt and plum shorts. Their fluffy tails bobbed with excitement.

Their helmets were properly fastened, and they wore wrist guards, elbow pads and knee pads. The broad clearing was level, dry and free of traffic. Flauschi checked her laces once more. Puschel mainly checked how sporty he looked.

Puschel: Today I’m going to be the fastest rolling Wusel anywhere!

Flauschi: Today we’ll start by finding out how to stand and stop safely.

Puschel nodded like a true expert. Then he stood perfectly straight, puffed out his chest and tried to take an especially big first step. His skates had other ideas. One rolled forward, the other followed—and Puschel’s bottom arrived first.

Puschel: Whoops! The ground got up here very quickly today!

Flauschi stopped beside him straight away. Instead of bursting into giggles, she looked at him carefully.

Flauschi: Does anything hurt? Would you like my paw?

Puschel: Everything’s fine. Only my grand entrance has got rather small. I’d love your paw.

With Flauschi’s help, he stood up again. This time he managed three tiny steps. On the fourth, he looked proudly over at her—plop! Down he sat again. On his next attempt he rolled half a Wusel step backwards and landed on his bottom once more.

Puschel: My shorts are getting to know this clearing better than my skates are.

Flauschi: Then let’s give your shorts a little break. And you, too.

After a break, Puschel tried again. This time he stared so hard at his wheels that he leaned farther and farther forward. He wobbled, waved his arms and tipped onto his padded knees. Then he lay on his tummy, his nose against a golden leaf.

Puschel: Now my nose has said hello to the ground, too. Very polite of it.

Flauschi crouched beside him. First she made sure nothing hurt. Then she gently rested a paw on his shoulder. Puschel stayed where he was for a moment and sighed.

Puschel: Maybe I’m not a rolling Wusel at all. Maybe I’m a plopping Wusel.

Flauschi: You’re Puschel. And Puschel is allowed to learn something without being good at it straight away. I’ll stay with you.

That felt good. They sat on the bench beneath the big oak for a little while. Puschel had a sip of water. Flauschi waited until he wanted another try himself. This time it wasn’t about speed. It was about one little stretch.

Flauschi: We’ll do it together. Little movements, soft knees, and look towards where you want to go.

Puschel: So I shouldn’t stare at my magnificent skates the whole time?

Flauschi: They’ll still be magnificent when you look ahead.

They held one paw each. Flauschi didn’t pull him along; she moved slowly beside him. One little roll. Then another. Puschel’s tail wobbled, his knees stayed soft—and his bottom stayed up.

Puschel: Flauschi! I’m rolling! And I’m not sitting down at all!

When excitement made him too lively, he unexpectedly sat down once more. Flauschi waited patiently. After another break, they tried another short stretch. This time he stayed up. Then they practised stopping until Puschel no longer needed his bottom as a brake.

Flauschi: Would you like to try a little stretch without my paw now?

Puschel: Yes. But please stay beside me.

Flauschi nodded. She held his paw once more for their last practice stretch together. Puschel looked ahead, breathed calmly and felt his wheels doing exactly what he wanted this time.

Then he let go of Flauschi’s paw. He rolled across the clearing, first towards a flower at the edge, then back in a wide, slow curve. Flauschi skated beside him without holding on.

Puschel: I’m skating! Flauschi, I’m really skating!

He kept practising, with breaks and short stretches. His wobbling became steady rolling. His wide turns improved, and he could stop, too. By the time the sun was lower, Puschel skated a whole confident lap around their practice clearing.

Flauschi: See? You’ve become a really lovely roller skater. One little step at a time.

Puschel: And with the very best Flauschi beside me.

Puschel grinned so widely that his light-blue cheeks almost touched his helmet straps. Flauschi beamed back. Together they skated one more gentle lap as the bench and the big oak slowly slipped behind them.

They both stopped by the bench. Only then did Puschel lift a paw for a happy high five. Flauschi met it with hers.

Puschel: My nose has had enough adventures for today. Tomorrow it can just enjoy the ride.

Flauschi: And your bottom?

Puschel: It gets the seat of honour on the bench!

Now they both giggled—not at his falls, but at Puschel’s contented face. He was proud of his lap. Even better, he hadn’t been alone for a single plop.