Sometimes they're under the bed, sometimes they're in the wardrobe
I gazed at the wardrobe through the
darkness. A monster? In there? It hardly seemed likely. But that’s what she
said. “If you don’t go to sleep the monster in the wardrobe will come and get
you.” Those were her exact words. There’d been no mention of this monster
before, no indication that my room, full of my toys and my stuff, had a monster
in it. But Mammy never lied. If she said there was a monster in there, then by
God that’s what was in there.
What kind of a monster was it
though? And how long had it been in there? I’d been making an awful racket
tonight, a real ruckus, so why hadn’t it “got me” already? It’d started with a
few songs, stuff I’d learned at playschool, cheerful little numbers that made
me think of Mrs O’Brien, my teacher. But then, bored, I’d taken things to the
next level. Shouting. I liked shouting, and that’s what I’d been doing, at the
top of my lungs, for no apparent reason.
When I heard Mammy coming I hid
beneath the blankets and pretended it wasn’t me. She seemed to fall for it; she
could be an awful fool at times. Coast clear I took to jumping on the bed, my
absolute favourite game. This was what led to the monster revelation, delivered
with some swear words as she slammed the door in anger. A monster. In the
wardrobe. I decided I’d deal with this situation in the morning. If the monster
was awake then the last thing it would want was me poking around, disturbing it
and being a general nuisance.
I turned away from the wardrobe and
squeezed my eyes shut as tight as they would go. But it was no use. All I could
think of was the monster. I imagined it creeping up behind me, all teeth and
slobber, its stomach growling at the sight of a plump four-year old boy. Its
big hairy hand reaching out for my neck, pulling me towards it. And me not even
resisting, knowing it was pointless, that I could never beat a monster. Just lying
there, whimpering softly, as it opened its mouth - one of its five mouths, the
biggest one – and nibbled at my ears with its rotting teeth.
No. I had to stay positive. This
kind of talk was madness. Mammy wouldn’t leave me in here all alone with a hairy-handed,
five-mouthed monster; she just wasn’t that kind of Mammy. My monster was
probably only a small one, even smaller than me, and not dangerous at all. It
probably had lovely brown eyes and made funny little grunting noises whenever
you tickled its belly. Maurice the Monster. A nice monster. A friendly monster.
I liked him already, couldn’t wait to meet him in the morning.
Then I heard it, a scratching noise
coming from inside the wardrobe. I paused, afraid to breathe, afraid to move.
Surely not? But there it was again. Scratch.
Scratch. Scratch. The sound monsters make when they’re coming to get you.
This was no small, friendly monster. This wasn’t Maurice. This was the
hairy-handed, five-mouthed monster, the hungry one who wanted to eat me. I
leapt from the bed, across the room and out the door, continuing straight into
my Mammy’s room, diving into her bed and underneath the covers in one motion.
The entire journey took less than three seconds.
“What are you doing in here?” she
asked groggily.
“The monster came,” I replied.
“Did he now?”
“He did.”
“Well, you better sleep in here,
so.”
“Thanks, Mammy,” I said.
Within seconds she was asleep
again, the poor woman was beat to the ropes. Safe again, I relaxed. I’d be
asleep soon too. But first I wanted to savour the moment. I loved sleeping in
my Mammy’s room; with its big double bed, lovely yellow curtains and the full-length
mirror where I sometimes practised my karate moves when no-one was around. And
the chair in the corner that I sat on every Saturday morning while we discussed
our plans for the day, the old clock that went tick-tock-tock-tick-tock; I
think it was broken, and the massive wardrobe where she kept all her shoes and
coats. Yes, I loved it in here, I always had brilliant sleeps in here. Wait.
The wardrobe. I looked at it again. It was massive, big enough for at least
nine monsters. Mammy continued to snore, completely oblivious to the threat of
monsters. I snuggled in beside her, covering my head with the blankets. There’d
be no sleep for me tonight.
No comments:
Post a Comment