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.'

On Sleeping Alone...

Growing up, our house had a 7 head minimum, not counting any pets or animals. The home in which we lived the longest was a sprawling old, added onto house that had 3 bedrooms & 2 baths by the time we arrived.
Mom & Dad's bedroom connected to my brothers bedroom by a Dick & Jane bathroom. My sisters had an added-on bedroom, that shot off the side of my brothers' room and if I remember correctly there was no door seperating these rooms, but a sliding glass door often left open to keep kids & animals alike from walking right into it.
My two older sisters had twin sized matching four-poster white beds and a wonderful old record player, that when weighted with pennies would belt out the Beatles, much to my heart's content. When not romping around the neighborhood, I would spend my days there while my sisters were at school. Much to their discontent, I would crank up the Beatles... shake it, shake it, shake it baby, now. Shake it up baby! Twist & Shout!... and I would twist & shake until the cramps doubled me over. Then I would do skin-the-cats from their bed posts, flipping my feet over my head, allowing my bottom to soar to new heights as I allowed all the blood to rush to my head...thus easing the sensation of twisted side cramps.
But when the girls ventured in from school, it would be time for me to leave that room. I learned quickly that it was best to be gone before they got in... so that I wouldn't have to hear them moan about how I was going to scratch their records, how their bedposts were loose or about my dirty little footprints left on their walls and dressers. (yup, I did up-the-walls before break-dancing was mainstream some 12-15 years later)
I would wander through my brothers room. They had one very large dresser with 6 or 7 drawers, in which we each(the boys & I) had one large drawer and one small drawer. There was also a big old bed in there.
Sometimes I would sleep in that bed there with the two boys, as we were closer in age & size. I'll forever remember the hum of Curt's breathing and the smell of his breath. More times than I can count, I'd venture out of that bed determined that I could not possibly find sleep nestled between these two sleeping souls with all their little breathing sounds and scents.
My parents once bought a cot & set it up in between my two older sisters' twin beds for me to sleep in, but that didn't last long. I hated it & moaned that it wasn't a real bed. The girls hated it too. They were older & really didn't want me in their room at all.
Dad usually fell asleep on the sofa with the tv humming, a book in hand & a dilluted glass of 'phew' on the coffee table.
Curtyboy was always the first to fall asleep & I was often the last, so that meant that I frequently just climbed into the bed with my Mother, who usually had Chantyboy with her until he fell asleep. Then she would tiptoe him into the bed with Curtyboy. She would tell me that I didn't need to be sleeping in there & I would ask her why Johnny Carson had a monkey on his head.
I never slept alone.
Then CurtyBoy went to the hospital down the street & stayed there. Among a million other things, it meant that there was one less body in that big old bed. Momma would never put Chanty into that big old bed alone & since Dad continued to sleep on the sofa, Chanty slept with Momma.
After the house fell silent, I padded my way to the bed that held Momma & Chanty. I put my chin on the edge of the bed close to Momma's face. The TV was whispering stuff about Nixon & Momma's breath was coming in sweet puffs. I stared at her. puff. phweew.puff.phweew.
The sound of her breathing terrified me. i thought each breath was her last. I leaned in my face closer to her face. I lifted one knee up onto the bed. vwoomp! Her eyes bolted open wide...'Paige, get in bed in the other room. I'm not going to have people sleeping all over this house & in my bed, when we have that big old bed sitting there empty.'
'But I never slept alone.'



To Be Continued...