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TheCorsair
Pēdicãbo ego võs et irrumäbo
- Joined
- Dec 17, 2013
Part One
“Good night, PJ,” mom laughed, putting just a little firmness into her voice as he bounced on his bed and tackle-hugged her. “It’s time to turn out the lights. You’ve got school in the morning.”
He wrapped his arms around her in an eight-year-old bear hug. “But what if I have a bad dream?” he protested. “Can’t I sleep with you and dad tonight?”
“No.” The word was final, but tempered with affection. Scooping him up in her arms, she sat down with him on the bed. “But you know what? I used to have really bad dreams too, when I was a little girl.”
“You did?” Nestled into his mom’s embrace, he yawned. Her lap was a lot smaller now, but it still made him feel safe and loved.
“I did,” she said, kissing his forehead. “But your grandma told me that dreams are just stories you tell yourself, so you can change them. So I did.”
“But it’s hard!” he protested.
“Try it again,” she said, rolling him into bed and tucking him in. Reflexively, he curled up with his big brown teddy bear Bear. “You can do it.”
“I’ll try,” he said.
She kissed him and hugged him again. “Love you,” she said.
“Love you,” he murmured.
The light clicked out, plunging the room into darkness broken only by the blue light of his nightlight and the green glow of the plastic stars stuck to his ceiling. Some of the kids at school teased him about the nightlight. Saying second graders didn’t need them, and he was just being a baby. But the dark was scary.
Not the stars, though. He loved the stars, loved watching them glitter in the night sky. He knew all their names, all the ones he could see. And he knew the names of the planets, and how many moons they had. Mostly, anyway. They were his friends.
“So am I.”
Blinking, PJ sat up. Bear was sitting up, staring at him with one shiny black eye, and one flat black eye where mom had tried to fix the button eye that had been lost. “You can talk!”
“Of course I can,” bear grinned, hopping up and leaping into his arms. “We always talk when we play!”
PJ frowned a little at that. Of course he did. But he was old enough to know that he’d just been playing pretend. But he hugged Bear anyway, laughing for joy. “Of course we do!”
The closet door creaked.
PJs blood froze, and he stared at the door. It was hard to see in the dim blue light, and spooky shadows gathered to make it harder. But he heard it again, and as he did he burrowed down with the blankets over his head. “The monster,” he whispered to Bear, clinging to his friend for comfort. “Be quiet. Maybe it won’t hear us.”
The closet door creaked again. PJ felt his heart hammering in his chest. He wanted mom and dad. The monster always ran away, when they came in. He knew it did, because it was always gone when they looked. He wanted to call for them, wanted to run to their room. But if he made a sound, if the monster saw him...
“What are we going to do, Bear?” he whispered, trying not to cry. He was right. He was a big boy. Big boys didn’t cry.
“I don’t know,” Bear whispered, clinging to him.
PJ shivered. Why couldn’t he leave the lights on? The monster didn’t like lights, but the nightlight wasn’t bright enough. The stars were bright enough, but they were far, far away. “Mommy,” he whispered, hugging Bear.
“You can change them.” It wasn’t a real voice, but it was mom’s voice. He heard it. Was he dreaming? He had to be. Bear couldn’t really talk.
The closet door creaked. This time, he could swear he heard heavy, wet breathing. “I can change it,” he whispered, peeping out. The stars on his ceiling blowed green. And blue and white. He stared at them. “I can change it.”
The bed bounced and shook. And then it floated. Slowly, but picking up speed, it drifted towards the ceiling. No, not the ceiling. The sky. The night sky, full of smiling dancing stars. They called his name, catching his hands and Bear’s paws with their little points. “PJ!” one little green star laughed, holding his hands and dancing ring-around-the-rosy with him. “We’re going to have so much fun!”
From far below the monster snuffled, rattling the closet door. It didn’t matter, though. PJ was sitting on a cloud, eating ice cream with the stars and Bear. He smiled, and dropped a Dipper full over the side. Maybe the monster liked ice cream, and then it wouldn’t be mean or scary any more.
It might be fun, making friends with a monster.
“Good night, PJ,” mom laughed, putting just a little firmness into her voice as he bounced on his bed and tackle-hugged her. “It’s time to turn out the lights. You’ve got school in the morning.”
He wrapped his arms around her in an eight-year-old bear hug. “But what if I have a bad dream?” he protested. “Can’t I sleep with you and dad tonight?”
“No.” The word was final, but tempered with affection. Scooping him up in her arms, she sat down with him on the bed. “But you know what? I used to have really bad dreams too, when I was a little girl.”
“You did?” Nestled into his mom’s embrace, he yawned. Her lap was a lot smaller now, but it still made him feel safe and loved.
“I did,” she said, kissing his forehead. “But your grandma told me that dreams are just stories you tell yourself, so you can change them. So I did.”
“But it’s hard!” he protested.
“Try it again,” she said, rolling him into bed and tucking him in. Reflexively, he curled up with his big brown teddy bear Bear. “You can do it.”
“I’ll try,” he said.
She kissed him and hugged him again. “Love you,” she said.
“Love you,” he murmured.
The light clicked out, plunging the room into darkness broken only by the blue light of his nightlight and the green glow of the plastic stars stuck to his ceiling. Some of the kids at school teased him about the nightlight. Saying second graders didn’t need them, and he was just being a baby. But the dark was scary.
Not the stars, though. He loved the stars, loved watching them glitter in the night sky. He knew all their names, all the ones he could see. And he knew the names of the planets, and how many moons they had. Mostly, anyway. They were his friends.
“So am I.”
Blinking, PJ sat up. Bear was sitting up, staring at him with one shiny black eye, and one flat black eye where mom had tried to fix the button eye that had been lost. “You can talk!”
“Of course I can,” bear grinned, hopping up and leaping into his arms. “We always talk when we play!”
PJ frowned a little at that. Of course he did. But he was old enough to know that he’d just been playing pretend. But he hugged Bear anyway, laughing for joy. “Of course we do!”
The closet door creaked.
PJs blood froze, and he stared at the door. It was hard to see in the dim blue light, and spooky shadows gathered to make it harder. But he heard it again, and as he did he burrowed down with the blankets over his head. “The monster,” he whispered to Bear, clinging to his friend for comfort. “Be quiet. Maybe it won’t hear us.”
The closet door creaked again. PJ felt his heart hammering in his chest. He wanted mom and dad. The monster always ran away, when they came in. He knew it did, because it was always gone when they looked. He wanted to call for them, wanted to run to their room. But if he made a sound, if the monster saw him...
“What are we going to do, Bear?” he whispered, trying not to cry. He was right. He was a big boy. Big boys didn’t cry.
“I don’t know,” Bear whispered, clinging to him.
PJ shivered. Why couldn’t he leave the lights on? The monster didn’t like lights, but the nightlight wasn’t bright enough. The stars were bright enough, but they were far, far away. “Mommy,” he whispered, hugging Bear.
“You can change them.” It wasn’t a real voice, but it was mom’s voice. He heard it. Was he dreaming? He had to be. Bear couldn’t really talk.
The closet door creaked. This time, he could swear he heard heavy, wet breathing. “I can change it,” he whispered, peeping out. The stars on his ceiling blowed green. And blue and white. He stared at them. “I can change it.”
The bed bounced and shook. And then it floated. Slowly, but picking up speed, it drifted towards the ceiling. No, not the ceiling. The sky. The night sky, full of smiling dancing stars. They called his name, catching his hands and Bear’s paws with their little points. “PJ!” one little green star laughed, holding his hands and dancing ring-around-the-rosy with him. “We’re going to have so much fun!”
From far below the monster snuffled, rattling the closet door. It didn’t matter, though. PJ was sitting on a cloud, eating ice cream with the stars and Bear. He smiled, and dropped a Dipper full over the side. Maybe the monster liked ice cream, and then it wouldn’t be mean or scary any more.
It might be fun, making friends with a monster.