Tommy turned off his night-light and pulled the covers up until only his eyes peered over the top. One small hand held a flashlight and the other had a firm grasp on the comforter. He didn’t wait long. The closet door edged open and a jagged silhouette crept out. It paused, tested the air, and then skittered across the room to disappear beneath his bed. Muffled arguing followed. Voices rose and fell, ending in a loud, exasperated sigh. The shadow came back out, no longer concerned with hiding itself. It stomped towards the closet, a melodramatic slump to its shoulders.
Curious, Tommy leaned over the side of the bed with his flashlight to look underneath. The wavering beam did little to alleviate the gloom. He squinted. Part of the darkness seemed squishier than the rest. He leaned closer. A small scaly hand grabbed the flashlight and disappeared. Tommy clung to the bed as hurried footsteps pattered down a stairwell, muttering, and clucking as it went. A door clicked shut.
Tommy pulled the covers up once again. Perhaps tonight’s performance was over. But no, the closet door opened with a creak.
“Who’s there?” Tommy whispered.
Once again, the shadow appeared. It crept to the foot of Tommy’s bed. “Hey kid.”
Tommy held his breath. He hadn’t counted on this. Two webbed hands crawled up the covers and rested on his pillow. Small wiry arms followed, joined by a small angular face.
“I know you can hear me,” it said.
Tommy wondered why with everything adults had made him learn, they had never schooled him in proper monster etiquette.
The creature turned on Tommy's side table lamp. Coal dust eyes stared at him. It inched closer, pointed ears twitching. Thin lips parted to reveal small sharp teeth. As it moved, teal scales shimmered in the lamplight. It wore ragged, denim cut-offs and a faded black leather vest that hung loosely over thin shoulders. This surprised Tommy. He had always assumed monsters were confirmed nudists. The creature took a crumpled pack of cigarettes from its vest pocket and offered it to Tommy.
“Uh, no thanks.”
The creature shrugged and withdrew one from the pack. He continued to stare at Tommy and then extended his claw. “You can call me Joe,” he said.
Tommy risked a smile and took the small monster’s scaly hand. It was cool and dry, not at all slimy, as he had feared. He cleared his throat but still only managed a whisper. “What are you doing here?”
Joe coughed and took a drag from his cigarette. “I live here. Or at least I did until that miserable harpy threw me out.”
A flurry of jolts shook the bed.
“Same to you buzzard butt!” Joe screamed at the dark space beneath them.
Tommy looked at the bedroom door, so close and yet so far away. “Maybe I should leave.”
“No need,” Joe said. “I won’t be long. I’m staying over with a friend.” He gestured toward the closet with the lit cigarette; showering gray ashes across the blue plaid print of the comforter.
Tommy gulped. He was living in the middle of the Goblin Kingdom.
Joe leaned back against the pillow and studied Tommy’s face. He didn’t seem like he was in a hurry to leave. “You have a girlfriend?” he asked.
Tommy blushed. “No way, I don’t like girls.”
Joe chuckled and reached towards Tommy, placing cold, razor-edged fingertips on the child’s forehead.
“What are you doing?” Tommy asked in alarm.
“I’m looking for something.”
Tommy closed his eyes and felt a soft fluttering, like butterfly wings, stir inside his head. Joe cupped his hands over the child’s left ear and removed a small florescent orb. He blew on the glowing sphere, as if tending a newly lit coal. Tommy gazed over the creature’s shoulder.
“What is it?”
Joe looked up into Tommy’s entranced face and smiled. “Let’s find out.”
He tossed the orb into the air above the bed. It burst into a sparkling cloud. A young girl with dimpled cheeks and rosy lips appeared. She stood by a sandbox clutching a doll in her left hand and a blue toy truck in the other. Her voice was distant. “Come and get it Tommy.” She giggled into the doll’s red yarn hair and held the truck out for one teasing moment before clutching it back to her chest.
Tommy blushed. This was yesterday morning at recess. He had been minding his own business when Amanda, the kindergarten femme fatale, and her entourage of pre-school cool had bushwhacked him and stole his favorite dumptruck. He had been too awestruck to take it back.
“You don’t like girls? My, my.”
Tommy looked down at his fuzzy pajama feet. “Who said I like her?” he mumbled.
Joe patted Tommy on the shoulder. “Let me show you something.” He raised his cigarette and used it as a pointer. “The first thing to go after the honeymoon is the butt.” He gave the cigarette a little twitch. Amanda’s rear end sagged like a balloon filled with sand. “Then the rest goes to hell.” Her eyes sunk into her skull; a single long hair sprouted from her chin. The skin on her upper arms wilted like mildewed cabbage as her legs turned into cottage cheese. Still clutching Tommy’s truck in a gnarled claw, the hag beckoned toward him. “Come and get it Tommy,” she cackled.
Tommy covered his face with his hands. “Make it go away.”
Joe snapped his fingers and the image disappeared in a puff of black smoke.
“Now what have you learned?” he asked Tommy.
“That Amanda can keep the truck.”
Joe sighed and shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Joe blew smoke in Tommy’s face, making him cough. “Now listen. Behind the sweet exterior of every female is a ravenous sub-human who will stop at nothing to bring you down to her level. Once she sinks her claws into you, life as you know it is over.”
“Ohhh.” Tommy bit nervously at his fingernails. “But I know some girls and they’re not bad. Not really.”
“No, no, no.” Joe stood up and began waving his arms. “Women are predatory creatures. They hunt in packs. How else would you explain their spontaneous migrations to the restroom?”
A light clicked on under Tommy’s bed. Joe froze. Angry footsteps stomped upwards, growling as it came. Joe put fingers on his lips, shaking his head at Tommy. Then it was quiet, too quiet. His eyes went wide. A shadowy hand reached out and yanked Joe to the floor by his ears. He landed on his head with a thud. A female version of himself, hands resting on a thick middle, glared down at him.
“Hi Pumpkin,” he said.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“Just talking with the neighbor, Honey.”
She grabbed his feet and pulled him under the bed and down the stairs with a loud, thumpity thump. The light went out.
Tommy sat on the edge of his bed; his small brow furrowed in thought.
For a moment the house was quiet. Then the hall light came on accompanied by soft, shuffling footsteps. After a short pause the bedroom door opened and his mother peered in.
“What’s going on Tommy?”
“Nothing.”
“I heard a noise.”
“I fell out of bed.”
“Are you sure?” Her face had a look of patient disbelief.
Tommy looked at her as she stood framed in the doorway with the muted light from the hall lamp surrounding her. Her dark hair was tousled and mixed with strands of gray. Tiny lines creased her eyes and lips, and she was a bit soft in the middle, but pleasantly so. It dawned on him that she was perfect.
“Does Daddy know how pretty you are?” he asked.
His mother looked down, her hair hiding flushed cheeks. “I don’t know.” She blew him a kiss as she backed out of the room and closed the door softly behind her.
The End
