Who Sits in That Seat? Jolly Phonics · Step 3, Unit 5: /ee/ mixed

My grandad tells the best bedtime tales in all the land. No book can beat them. Nothing can beat them. Each night he sits on my bed with his big red mug, and each night I say, 'Tell me a tale, Grandad.' And each night, he does.

Tonight Grandad leans in so close I can smell the sweet steam from his mug. 'Tonight,' he says, 'my tale is about Eve, a girl no one can see.' 'A girl no one can see?' I say. 'That is not real. That is a tall tale.' Grandad just grins. 'Tell me at the end.'

No one can see Eve. She has no face to see, and no name to call. She can sit just by you in a big red seat, and no one can tell. The one clue? A wee dip in the seat. But who peeks at seats? Nobody. That is who.

When it rains, you can almost see Eve. Each raindrop curls around a shape that is not quite there. But the crowd rushes past her. Nobody sees her at all.

Snow is sweeter. Snowflakes land on Eve and stay, so she looks like a snow-girl. Three kids stop. They point. 'Do you see that?' they say. Eve keeps very, very still. She wants them to keep looking.

One morning, Eve is brave. She sneaks into a class, sits at a desk, and picks up a green wax stick. The boy next to her yells so loud that the teacher drops her coffee. Because from his seat, a green wax stick is making a shape all by itself!

'I am Eve,' says a voice from the empty seat. 'Do not be afraid. I just want to make art.' The boy looks at the empty seat. Then he asks, 'Can I paint a face? A face I can see?' Eve keeps very, very still. The boy dips his brush in yellow paint and paints dots and a sweet smile on her. Now Eve has a face!

'More!' says Eve. 'Paint my curls with the things I like best!' So the boy paints a shape, a star, and a fat cat. Notes that seem to hum. And sweet red dots on top, because why not. 'How do I look?' asks Eve. The boy grins. 'Like a song.'

After that, Eve paints herself each morning. Shapes on her arms. Stars on her fingers. Bright footprints where she steps, so all the land can follow her trail. Eve does not hide now. She wants each one to see her.

Eve stands on a hill, filled up with all that she likes best. And at last, they can all see her! It is not the paint. Eve gleams with her real self, and nobody can miss her.

Grandad sips the last drop from his mug. 'So?' he asks. 'Tall tale? Or true?' I tuck my blanket up to my nose and think deeply. A real girl no one can see? That is silly. 'Not true,' I say. 'It is just a tale.' Grandad grins and kisses my brow. 'Sweet dreams,' he says.

Grandad turns off the lamp. He goes out. He shuts the door. Then, very slowly, the door creaks back open. Light spills in from the hall. But nobody is there. I tuck the blanket up to my chin. Don't open that door. Don't open that door. Don't open that door!