Ana blew her bright yellow whistle. She held up her weathered list of jobs. 'Time to work,' she said.
Ana blew her bright yellow whistle and unrolled her list. Berry rolled up and eyed the garden ladder. 'I can't climb,' he said.
Twig the grass tried to heave a bag of soil. 'Too heavy,' he sighed. Berry nudged the watering can — splat, splat, splat.
Ana tapped her foot and marched to the shed. She came back with a pulley, a bucket, and a long-handled scoop.
She tied the bucket to the rope. 'Roll under it, Berry,' Ana said. Twig hooked the scoop with his curly ends.
Berry tapped the rope — plink-plink-plink — and the bucket rose. Twig scooped and tossed whoosh, clatter — apples piled in neat rows.
A sudden gust of wind swept through the rows. The apples lifted off the ground and hovered for a moment — like red planets.
The apples drifted down and landed softly into a giant woven basket at the center. Plink. Plink. Plink.
They gathered around the full basket. Ana hung her yellow whistle on a low branch. 'Looks like we're all set,' she said.
Berry sorted apples by color — red, green, speckled. Twig reached the highest twigs and pulled down the last ones.
Ana handed out apples with a big grin. Berry got the reddest. Twig got the greenest. 'Good work, team,' she said.
The whistle stayed quiet on its branch. There was nothing left to call. Everyone already knew their place.