Brigit's Flame, final March entry
I'm really pleased with this one!
“Hey, Boo, what’re you doing?”
The little boy, whose name was Bailey, and not “Boo”, appeared to be hiding his bed underneath a covering of stuffed animals and dolls. They were draped over the headboard and footboard. He had lined them up on the pillows, leaving just enough space for his head.
“I’m putting my stuffies in my bed.” The little guy had his arms full with a teddy bear, a clown, and a Raggedy Ann and Andy.
“Oh, sweetie, are you sure you need all those?”
‘Yes,” he regarded her seriously, “they’re going to protect me from the Ombres.” He shivered.
“The Hombre?” Mama frowned, “Who, or what, is that?”
“The Ombres come out from under my bed at night. He eats dreams, and sucks the energy out of you.” He clutched his armful of toys close to his chest.
Mama had read all the parenting books, and she knew that, unreasonable as fears of the dark, and monsters under the bed seemed to adults, they were very real to children. So, she decided to forgo the explanation that there couldn’t be a monster under the bed, and deal with reality as her son saw it.
“Are you sure you need all of them, sweetie? Can’t some of them help from the toy bin?”
“No, Mama; Teddy here,” he gestured at the bear with his chin, “says that they need to be on the bed to pertect me from the Ombres.” Bailey’s eyes were large as quarters.
“What if Mama slept with you? Would that help keep the Hombre away?” she gathered the boy into her arms. He smelled like maple syrup and clean pajamas.
“No, Mama,” he giggled, “you kick in your sleep, and my bed is too little for that. That’s why you and daddy got a big bed.”
“I see,” Mama was nonplussed. “Well, you seem to have this all under control, Boo,” she stroked his hair. “If you get scared, baby, yell and I’ll come, O.K.?”
“O.K., Mama.”
He climbed into bed, and she tucked him in and arranged the stuffed animals around him, trying to ensure that they would not bury him in the night.
“’Night, Boo,” she peppered his face with kisses.
“’Nighty-night, Mama,” Bailey giggled.
She turned out the light, and watched him from the doorway as he fell asleep; it never took him long. She worried about this new monster; he had been a bit lethargic, lately, and she had noticed dark circles beneath his eyes. He’d been paler that usual, too. She frowned and shook her head. She didn’t believe in monsters, but she did believe in nightmares; she would call the pediatrician in the morning to see if there was anything she could do.
~*~
It was a pitch black, moonless night. The house was filled with the sort of tangible silence that happens only in the depths of night, when it seems least likely that morning will come. Bailey frowned and whimpered in his sleep, twisting and tossing under his dinosaur comforter. There was a faint rustle from the cavern under his bed, so slight that it might not even have happened. There was an answering rustle from the bed, the sound of a pillow sliding to the floor.
The rustle under the bed became a slithering sound. A shape, a thing that looked like a clot of deeper darkness, oozed out into the room, roiling in place next to the bed. The slithering rustle was replaced with the sound of wind howling far away; a faint moaning whistle and rush.
Bailey’s restless tossing and whimpering ceased; instead, he lay unnaturally still, transfixed on the bed, his mouth slightly open, his eyes shifted rapidly beneath his lids. The shadows in the room closed in about bed, until the entire room was even darker than the natural darkness of the night.
The rustle on the bed increased as well; it was the sound of many small bodies moving about. The dolls and stuffed animals drew in around Bailey, covering him, shielding him until only his tiny face showed. The teddy bear, the clown doll, and the Raggedy Andy stood upon his chest, facing the blot of greater darkness.
“You shall not feed here tonight,” the Raggedy Andy’s voice was a chirping whisper; he held up his cloth mitt, barring the darkness from the bed.
“You cannot bar the way,” The sibilant howling formed into words, ‘I am hungry. The blot roiled faster, creeping closer to the bed.
“No!” The clown squeaked, “We will not let you pass!” The horde of stuffies closed in behind him, creating a plush wall at the edge of the bed. “You will not harm our boy!” There was a murmured chorus of agreement from the rest of the toys.
“Oh, Scaramouche,” the shadow chuckled, churning, “what can you do? You are merely a legion of toys.” It seethed closer still.
“Bully!” The teddy bear grimaced fiercely, showing teeth his manufacturer had not included. He leapt fro the bed, barreling into the smudgy shadow, followed closely by the clown, the Raggedy Andy, and the rest of the toys.
They bore the shadow to the ground with their soft, dense weight. It oozed and crept across the carpet, trying to escape the clinging hands and paws. Finally, with a faint, screaming howl, it retreated under the bed as if sucked there. The many stuffed animals and dolls lay scattered across the floor, exhausted, but pleased with their work.
~*~
“Morning, Bailey,” Mama pushed open the door, and surveyed the mass of toys strewed across the floor. “Goodness! What happened in here last night?”
“Morning, Mama,” Bailey chirped, “my stuffies defeated the Ombres! It won’t be back again!” He leaped out of bed, ran across the room, and flung his arms around his mother, knocking her back a step.
“That’s . . . great, Boo.” She grinned, “Now, would you come down to breakfast? We’ll have to pick all these guys up later.”
“O.K., Mama,” He took her hand, and turned back towards the clutter of toys. “Good work, guys!” and he skipped off. There was no response from the floor.
“Hey, Boo, what’re you doing?”
The little boy, whose name was Bailey, and not “Boo”, appeared to be hiding his bed underneath a covering of stuffed animals and dolls. They were draped over the headboard and footboard. He had lined them up on the pillows, leaving just enough space for his head.
“I’m putting my stuffies in my bed.” The little guy had his arms full with a teddy bear, a clown, and a Raggedy Ann and Andy.
“Oh, sweetie, are you sure you need all those?”
‘Yes,” he regarded her seriously, “they’re going to protect me from the Ombres.” He shivered.
“The Hombre?” Mama frowned, “Who, or what, is that?”
“The Ombres come out from under my bed at night. He eats dreams, and sucks the energy out of you.” He clutched his armful of toys close to his chest.
Mama had read all the parenting books, and she knew that, unreasonable as fears of the dark, and monsters under the bed seemed to adults, they were very real to children. So, she decided to forgo the explanation that there couldn’t be a monster under the bed, and deal with reality as her son saw it.
“Are you sure you need all of them, sweetie? Can’t some of them help from the toy bin?”
“No, Mama; Teddy here,” he gestured at the bear with his chin, “says that they need to be on the bed to pertect me from the Ombres.” Bailey’s eyes were large as quarters.
“What if Mama slept with you? Would that help keep the Hombre away?” she gathered the boy into her arms. He smelled like maple syrup and clean pajamas.
“No, Mama,” he giggled, “you kick in your sleep, and my bed is too little for that. That’s why you and daddy got a big bed.”
“I see,” Mama was nonplussed. “Well, you seem to have this all under control, Boo,” she stroked his hair. “If you get scared, baby, yell and I’ll come, O.K.?”
“O.K., Mama.”
He climbed into bed, and she tucked him in and arranged the stuffed animals around him, trying to ensure that they would not bury him in the night.
“’Night, Boo,” she peppered his face with kisses.
“’Nighty-night, Mama,” Bailey giggled.
She turned out the light, and watched him from the doorway as he fell asleep; it never took him long. She worried about this new monster; he had been a bit lethargic, lately, and she had noticed dark circles beneath his eyes. He’d been paler that usual, too. She frowned and shook her head. She didn’t believe in monsters, but she did believe in nightmares; she would call the pediatrician in the morning to see if there was anything she could do.
~*~
It was a pitch black, moonless night. The house was filled with the sort of tangible silence that happens only in the depths of night, when it seems least likely that morning will come. Bailey frowned and whimpered in his sleep, twisting and tossing under his dinosaur comforter. There was a faint rustle from the cavern under his bed, so slight that it might not even have happened. There was an answering rustle from the bed, the sound of a pillow sliding to the floor.
The rustle under the bed became a slithering sound. A shape, a thing that looked like a clot of deeper darkness, oozed out into the room, roiling in place next to the bed. The slithering rustle was replaced with the sound of wind howling far away; a faint moaning whistle and rush.
Bailey’s restless tossing and whimpering ceased; instead, he lay unnaturally still, transfixed on the bed, his mouth slightly open, his eyes shifted rapidly beneath his lids. The shadows in the room closed in about bed, until the entire room was even darker than the natural darkness of the night.
The rustle on the bed increased as well; it was the sound of many small bodies moving about. The dolls and stuffed animals drew in around Bailey, covering him, shielding him until only his tiny face showed. The teddy bear, the clown doll, and the Raggedy Andy stood upon his chest, facing the blot of greater darkness.
“You shall not feed here tonight,” the Raggedy Andy’s voice was a chirping whisper; he held up his cloth mitt, barring the darkness from the bed.
“You cannot bar the way,” The sibilant howling formed into words, ‘I am hungry. The blot roiled faster, creeping closer to the bed.
“No!” The clown squeaked, “We will not let you pass!” The horde of stuffies closed in behind him, creating a plush wall at the edge of the bed. “You will not harm our boy!” There was a murmured chorus of agreement from the rest of the toys.
“Oh, Scaramouche,” the shadow chuckled, churning, “what can you do? You are merely a legion of toys.” It seethed closer still.
“Bully!” The teddy bear grimaced fiercely, showing teeth his manufacturer had not included. He leapt fro the bed, barreling into the smudgy shadow, followed closely by the clown, the Raggedy Andy, and the rest of the toys.
They bore the shadow to the ground with their soft, dense weight. It oozed and crept across the carpet, trying to escape the clinging hands and paws. Finally, with a faint, screaming howl, it retreated under the bed as if sucked there. The many stuffed animals and dolls lay scattered across the floor, exhausted, but pleased with their work.
~*~
“Morning, Bailey,” Mama pushed open the door, and surveyed the mass of toys strewed across the floor. “Goodness! What happened in here last night?”
“Morning, Mama,” Bailey chirped, “my stuffies defeated the Ombres! It won’t be back again!” He leaped out of bed, ran across the room, and flung his arms around his mother, knocking her back a step.
“That’s . . . great, Boo.” She grinned, “Now, would you come down to breakfast? We’ll have to pick all these guys up later.”
“O.K., Mama,” He took her hand, and turned back towards the clutter of toys. “Good work, guys!” and he skipped off. There was no response from the floor.