A Child's Tale

A CHILD’S TALE

She hadn’t read to him in ages and suddenly realized how much she missed it. Their special time to make everything ok again. Sometimes she felt that she got more out of it than he did.

He looked so peaceful. Happy maybe? Did he ever have good dreams? Can you have good dreams after a difficult day? She didn’t know. After her husband left them, she stopped dreaming.

Her foot was asleep. She stood up, wriggled her toes and circled her foot frantically, round and round, like a child trying to get used to new shoes.

The Winnie the Pooh night light flickered weakly signaling the arrival of twilight. When he was a baby and the light was brand new, they worried that it was too bright. He slept well though, in spite of the Halo around him. In fact, he seemed to bask in it. It remained a beacon when night time became less peaceful and more anxiety ridden for him after their family was reduced to just two. That was when the monsters first showed themselves.

She regretted putting off getting a new bulb to combat the growing darkness in his room, seemingly from less light from the outside getting in. With so many urgent household issues to deal with, that got pushed to “deal with later.”

She remembered a few years ago when he had told her that he was too big now to have a night light. She was pleasantly surprised. Although, it was bittersweet. Tomorrow she would make it a point to do something special with him she convinced herself. Talk and spend some quality time together. She hesitantly took Winnie the Pooh away and put it in the donation box. The following night she smiled as she saw that familiar trail of warm light spilling from his room again.

Music wafted in the window from a distant speaker.

"Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away..." Paul McCartney sang, his youthful voice resonating from a time more innocent, more hopeful.

She introduced him to the Beatles. They would sing in her car at the top of their lungs. One time they rolled the windows all the way down and let the wind carry the sound to anyone who would listen. Neither of them could hold a tune but they just laughed at that imperfection.

His favorite Beetle at that time was Ringo.

“Ringo?” she would question, “Nobody picks Ringo. Why do you like him the best?” He would wrinkle his nose and retort “Because even though he wasn’t popular, they accepted him – and they let him be the super great drummer that he was meant to be!”

At the time, she laughed to herself at such a strange answer. He was different, thoughtful and sensitive -- that’s what she loved most about him.

She could feel a tickle in her throat from reading aloud so long. It was more for her really. She didn’t want to stop except her voice was giving out.

She recalled how embarrassed he was when his Aunt gave him that Dr. Seuss book on his birthday. He didn’t want to be seen as a child. “Congratulations! Today is your day. You’re off to Great Places! You’re off and away.” Kids are so self conscious at that age. That night, after the relatives went home, he secretly let her read the book to him until he fell asleep.

Adults don’t understand, don’t remember, just how difficult it is to be a “tween.” Their troubles seemed so trivial really. She always hastily told him to just ignore the kids when they tease you. She was so busy with work, the house, dinner, many things -- important responsible adult things. She assumed that he took her advice. His complaints stopped and he seemed to be better. Or maybe she convinced herself of that as it was easier that way?

When she asked him about his friends, he assured her that, “of course he had friends at school.” After a while she hardly noticed that he was alone in his room a lot. It became the new normal. She always had vowed that “tomorrow” she would limit his video games. But, tomorrow would always surprise her with another deadline.

And after all, the school never called. If something was really wrong, surely they would have called. But they didn’t. They provided a way to check on your child’s homework. And, they had cameras in some classrooms. She always felt that was a little extreme but, hey, if it kept the kids safe, so be it.

A siren wailed in the distance tasering the silence in the room.

She replayed yet again their conversation that morning. She urged him to eat his breakfast quicker as she had to drop him off at school a little early. He seemed quieter than usual but it was early after all. “I have to work late. Will you be ok?” “ Of course,” he said, with a slightly higher pitch in his voice. Of course, that was the answer she really wanted after all. Tomorrow she would get a special dinner and maybe watch a movie with him. Maybe he could invite a friend over during the weekend. It had been a long while since he had a friend over. But maybe that’s how kids were these days. They were always connecting via social media.

She hesitated a moment to take him all in. His eyes were closed to keep out the light. His thick, jet black hair crowned his head against the brilliant white pillow. She leaned down gently, stepping on the huge pile of used kleenex, held him tightly and kissed him goodnight. He was ice cold to her touch. She instinctively pulled the blanket up on him. But all the blankets in the world couldn’t warm him now.

Lights flashed outside the window. Footsteps rushed on the driveway. She closed the book, placed it on the table, and finally, decided to walk through the door.

Behind her, Winnie the Pooh flickered for a moment, then suddenly went dark.