Part II...On Sleeping Alone

A flip of the covers, a blurry batting of the eyes...'Come in, just until Johnny.'

I snuggle up into my mother, 1/2 way under the covers. Chantyboy is in the middle of the bed...hands mid-air talking emphatically to each other and his throat, croaking like a little frog. Sleep will fall upon him soon.

Before long, I raise my fist up into the air in unison with Ed McMahon...'Heeeeere's Johnny!' hoping Momma will be so impressed with my enthusiasum & maturity that she'll forget her own words.

'Paigey, go get in bed now.'

I don't want to, but after a moment or so of hem-hawing, I go to the boys' room. I look around the room & see the big old dresser with 3 little drawers & 3 big ones, the open passage to the girls room & light flickering in through the jack & jill bath from momma's tv. I hear the hum of her tv & I hear the rumble of dad's snore from the front room. All else is quiet.

Hmmm...I crawl up & plop down. Flip. Kick. Sit up. Twist. Flop. Finally, I go sideways. The footboard filters the flickering light from the jack & jill bath. My crown faces the open passage way to the girls. I stare into an uninterrupted blank wall. Right foot out of the covers, shimmying left to right like windsheild wipers set on beserk, I drift away.

I hear the howls & bolt upright. To my left & over the footboard I look down the corridor of the jack & jill bath, but from the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of him. He's hairy. His grin drips and he's in the bottom drawer.

Starting denial at a very young age, I think this can't be real & just plop my head back down....close my eyes to escape back into a more peaceful sleep. Drifting, I hear the squeak of worn wood on wood and my eyes fling straight up to the old yellowed ceiling. Frozen, I begin to hear his howl begin. Low, throaty & deep. Breathe. I bolt upright and swivel to my left, just in time to see the upper big drawer slam shut. He's hiding from me.

'Hey, what do you want?' No reply.

'What are you?' Nothing.

'You better go back away...'

As I begin to lay back down, I hear the slight tink of the small metal handle tapping on the wood of one of the smaller top drawers & I spring out of that bed.
Feet hit the floor just as his grinning self gets tucked back in and that small center drawer gets sucked back in.
I freeze.
He begins to peek out of another drawer. I lurch, grab & pull on the drawer. Nothing.
Listening carefully, eyes peeled back, terrified... I slowly close the drawer.

Slam! Bam! Wham! Flinging out & slinging back in. Drawers slamming. A long howl. Pointy teeth with tendrils of spit. An evil howling.

I run.

I run straight to the front room where Daddy was. He was up. Sipping coffee & reading the paper on the pleather sofa in his boxers. It was still dark out. Before I get across the room to him, he's disgarded his paper, sat his coffee down & is meeting me. I tell him about my dream. As he laughs, I tell him it was real. I chatter about, just trying to convince him.

Finally he says, 'Listen.'

I did. I heard birds whisting, all different kinds of early morning birds, aquatic birds & even peacocks. Singing all their seperate little songs together for a symphony of sorts. Then I heard it.
The faint sound of that low, throaty & deep howl beginning to build up in the distance.
Whispering, I ask 'I hear him, d'you hear him? He's moved on down the street, maybe to go find his parents.' Laughter.
I swat at him "Jjzssshhhh......hear him now?'
More laughter.........

'You, my child, are a dream-weaver.'
'Huh?'
'That's just an owl that I hear.'