Outside, the gentle rain went tap tap tap on the windowpanes, like many tiny fingers knocking to say "hello." Inside the house, on the living room rug, Dash, Ziggy, Lily and Skye had just built a sea. It was a sea of blue towels spread on the floor, with a few cushion-islands and a real basin, full of water, in the middle. On the water floated five paper boats they had folded together.

"My boat is called Blue Arrow!" said Dash, blowing on the water to make it slide.

"Mine is Slow Turtle," said Skye, in a quiet voice, placing it next to an island.

Lily, with her blue eyes concentrated, blew hard on hers. "Mine never gives up," she said firmly.

Ziggy, skinny as he was, jumped from one towel to another as if he were really in the middle of the waves. "I am the lighthouse! Beep-beep-beeeep!"

The children laughed and the rain kept going tap tap tap, when, all of a sudden, from behind the couch, came a sound they knew very well.

CHUFFFF CHUFFFF.

Everyone froze. The little boats floated in silence. Even the rain seemed to lower its voice.

CHUFFFF CHUFFFF.

It was Toby, the Magic Train! He came puffing out a little golden cloud, his locomotive shining like a candy. He stopped right in front of the towel-sea and whistled cheerfully:

"Good morning, dear children, what a wonderful sight!
We're off on a journey, our magic shines bright.
Up, up we'll go climbing, far over your head,
where a box softly sleeps and a party's in bed."

The children looked at each other with wide-open eyes. "Over our head?" whispered Dash. "Where a box is sleeping?"

"And a feast?" added Lily, puzzled.

But there was no time for questions. The train was there, waiting for them. Dash, fast as always, was the first to jump on the wagon. Ziggy followed with a leap. Lily climbed up holding her little boat. Skye, tall and peaceful, sat on the last car with a small smile.

CHUFFFF CHUFFFF! The little train started off, and began to climb. Yes, really to climb, up the stairs of the house, up the hallway, up a wooden ladder no one remembered ever seeing, all the way to a tiny door, way up at the top.

The little door opened by itself with a sweet creak.

The children stepped off the train and found themselves in a place full of silent magic.

It was an attic. But not just any attic.

A slanted ray of sunshine came in through a tiny window, and inside that ray danced thousands of golden specks, like crumbs of stars. There were old boxes piled up, chandeliers hanging that swayed a little, hats with feathers, a rocking horse snoring with closed eyes, and a big trunk overflowing with clothes.

"Wooow," went Dash, mouth wide open.

"Look," said Skye, pointing to the trunk. "The clothes..."

Everyone came closer and saw something strange. The clothes, the cloaks, the little hats, the tiny shoes: they were all the same exact color. A sad color, that was neither white nor black. A color that Bibo would later call "cloud gray."

"But they have no color," whispered Lily.

At that moment, from behind a box, popped out a tiny snout with two little glasses on the nose and a sharp pencil behind the ear. It was a little mouse, holding a ruler.

The little mouse took two quick little steps, stopped, raised a finger and said: "Wait, wait, wait!"

Then he came up to the trunk, placed the ruler on the gray clothes, took notes in a tiny notebook and murmured: "I'm measuring the color of nothing. Nothing colored equals zero."

When he raised his glasses and saw the four children, he went "Ooh-ooh-ooh!" tapping his little paws in surprise. He scampered fast over to Dash, looked him over from head to toe and said, in a ringing voice:

"But you are a wonderful specimen!"

The children looked at each other. Dash scratched his head. "Spec... what?" he asked.

"Specimen," said the little mouse. "Spe-ci-men."

"What does that mean?" asked Lily, with curiosity sparkling in her eyes.

The little mouse laughed, a giggle that went "hee-hee-hee." "It means you are something special! One of those things you look at carefully because they are unique! Like a leaf shaped like a heart, or a stone with golden dots. There, you are like that."

Dash smiled and puffed his chest out a little, proud.

"I'm Bibo," continued the little mouse, with the notebook still in his paw. "I'm an inventor mouse. I live here, in this attic. And you arrived just at the right moment. There's a mystery here. A gray mystery. Wait, wait, wait, I'll explain right away."

Bibo walked quickly with little steps to a hidden corner of the attic. The children followed on tiptoes. There, at the back, inside a smaller trunk, there was something soft and tender. A patchwork teddy bear, with one ear a little chewed and a patch on his belly. He was sleeping.

"He is Cocco," whispered Bibo. "He's a teddy bear. A long, long time ago someone forgot him here. And ever since, he has been sleeping."

"But he looks sad," said Skye, in a gentle voice.

"Yes," sighed Bibo. "Cocco has gray dreams. You see? Dreams that have no red, no blue, no yellow. And when a teddy bear dreams gray, even the things around him lose their color. That's why all the clothes in the trunk are so sad."

Dash felt something squeeze his heart. He didn't like the idea that Cocco was having gray dreams. He came up to the teddy bear and tucked in a little paw that was outside the blanket.

"We have to do something," said Dash, determined. "We will help you, Cocco."

"Yes!" said Ziggy, hopping. "We'll help him!"

"All together," added Lily.

Skye nodded and sniffed the air. "But how do we do it, Bibo?"

Bibo scratched a whisker with his pencil-wand. Then, all at once, he tapped his paws: "Ooh-ooh-ooh! I have an idea! Look!"

He jumped on a box, reached a cord that hung from the ceiling and pulled hard. Creak-crack. A skylight opened, and from the sky, instead of drops, began to fall... petals. Petals of a thousand colors. Red, yellow, purple, orange, pink, blue. They fell light, fragrant. They smelled of rose, of apple, of vanilla, of meadow after summer.

The children raised their hands to catch some. It was like being inside a rainbow that was crumbling sweetly.

"They are colors that fall!" exclaimed Bibo, writing in his notebook. "When it rains like this, in the attic, it means the magic is helping us. We have to gather them and repaint the clothes! Come on, hurry!"

The children got right to work, but Bibo, after a moment, suddenly stopped. He raised his finger. "Wait, wait, wait."

"What is it?" asked Dash, his hands full of red petals.

Bibo scratched his snout. "The clothes alone are not enough. Even if they become colorful, Cocco's dreams will stay gray. And soon they will lose their color again. We have to do something else first."

"What?" asked Skye.

Bibo looked up, into the sunbeam. Then he looked at the children, one by one, with his glasses sparkling. "We have to weave a beautiful dream. And put it under Cocco's pillow. Only then will his gray dreams transform."

The children looked at each other. Weave a dream. It seemed like a very big thing.

"And how do we do it?" asked Dash, with a small lump in his throat.

Bibo smiled. "We do it together. Each of us does a part. You gather the petals, I sew them in the air. Ready?"

"Ready!" they all answered.

And the most beautiful thing of the whole day began.

Dash, fast as the wind, ran from one side to the other gathering the brightest red petals, the ones that looked like fire in a fireplace. His hands filled up and he laughed happily.

Lily, with her stubborn head and careful blue eyes, chose the softest petals. She touched them one by one, and if it wasn't soft enough, she let it fall. "This no, this yes, this is good."

Skye, peaceful as always, leaned over the petals and smelled them. She looked for the ones with the best scent, the ones that smelled like grandma's cake, like warm milk, like summer meadow. "This one smells good," she said, smiling.

Ziggy, meanwhile, took all the petals gathered by his friends and put them together on a little cloth handkerchief he had found. He arranged them carefully, then folded the handkerchief at the corners, making a small pillow soft as a cloud.

When the little pillow was ready, Bibo took the pencil-wand from behind his ear. He concentrated. He drew something in the air, above the little pillow.

And the children saw something they had never seen before.

In the air, for a few seconds, a glowing scribble appeared. It was a drawn dream. You could see a circle of stars, a green meadow, a red balloon rising up, a cloud of cotton candy, and a mama bear cradling her cub. All glowing, all soft. Then, like a trail, the scribble slipped into the little pillow, and disappeared there like a secret.

"Now," whispered Bibo. "Now we put it under his little head."

All together, in silence, they came up to Cocco. Dash, with his hands trembling a little from emotion, lifted the teddy bear's little head. Ziggy slipped the scented little pillow underneath. Skye arranged the blanket. Lily caressed his ear.

And they waited.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then Cocco gave a sigh. A long, content sigh. He turned a little in his sleep. And on his patchwork face, where there had never been one, a small smile appeared.

The children held their breath.

And in that silence, something magical began to happen. In the big trunk of clothes, way at the back of the attic, a little cape turned red. Then a little hat became yellow. A tiny shoe became purple. A bow became blue. A ruffled dress became pink. One after another, like many candles being lit, the clothes turned colorful again.

"It's working," whispered Dash, with shining eyes.

Bibo blew his nose with the notebook. "You wove a dream," he said. "You really are wonderful specimens."

Everyone laughed.

From outside, in the distance, a gentle chuff chuff was heard. Toby was back. It was time to go.

The children said goodbye to Cocco with a kiss on his belly, said goodbye to Bibo with a hug (and Bibo got so emotional he tapped his paws: "Ooh-ooh-ooh!"), and climbed onto the wagon.

Toby, sweet as a rocking, whistled:

"You've sewn a sweet dream that is sparkling and bright,
now Cocco the bear sleeps with joy through the night.
Go home, little dreamers, both gentle and small,
with sunshine inside your hearts, one and all."

And with a CHUFFFF CHUFFFF, the train went down to the living room.

When the children opened their eyes, they were back on the towel-sea, with the paper boats floating in the basin. Outside, the gentle rain still went tap tap tap.

But in his pocket, Dash found a red petal, smelling of cake. He squeezed it tight. Then he looked at his friends and said: "Tomorrow, if it rains again, we can stitch another dream. Now we know how."

And they all smiled.