All but deaf to thunderstorms and smoke alarms, nothing seems to wake him, but the guttural rasps of our breathing and the rhythmic creaking of the box spring rouse him from his bed and lead him padding in his footsies to the primal scene. He’s had to somehow scale the side of his toddler bed to get here, first to climb up off the mattress to the rail, then to descend the distance twice his height and tippy-toe feel for the floor, then in utter darkness navigate the twisting hall and short staircase, on hands and knees scrambling up steps that in daylight daunt him, and thread his way by instinct between the soft motor sounds of the sharp-nailed cat and the deeper rock-grinding rumblings of the dog, dangerous when roused, who sometimes snarls or worse in his gray confusion, then reach and work the latch of our door, to stand by the side of the bed—drawn by what? This bed, lit by distant streetlight through the window, tumultuous with the shadows we cast, distressingly noisy with exertion, pungent with unfamiliar scents, the insurmountable parents’ bed is the plateau whose legendary great plain he only thinks is flat but cannot see. On it grapples the monster with two backs that lends his quest its urgent mystery. He only half wants to see, but is compelled to climb and so tugs at the bedclothes from the floor and works his little jammie feet and grunts his plea. Lucky intrepid boy, his monsters have a sense of humor. Come on up then, voyager. Nestled between us on his back, eyes wide, feet still toddling, he jabbers of adventure and leaves it to us to unriddle what he foretells of what he foresees in the shadows of trees on the ceiling.
Copyright © June 17, 2007 David Hodges
11 comments
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June 17, 2007 at 4:11 pm
Somerset Bob
More brilliance, David.
Consider it Stumbled.
Thank you, Bob. This one makes me very happy.
–David
June 17, 2007 at 9:31 pm
Vicky D.
Hats off to the master!!
Thank you, Vicky D.! I don’t believe we’ve met?
–David
June 17, 2007 at 9:32 pm
Jill Terry
This is wonderful, David. Truly!
Thank you, Jill. I like it when you’re happy.
–David
June 18, 2007 at 3:04 am
wizzer
Beautiful descriptive work I really enjoyed. It didn’t leave me with the usual unanswered questions though. Different from much of your recent work I feel.
Yep, I’m funny that way. Thanks, wizzer.
–David
June 18, 2007 at 6:56 am
Calvin Warr
ha ha ha! what a pleasant read! I like it… that it reflected a reality for me helped, i guess.. 😀
Thanks, Calvin. It’s all about making people happy today.
–David
June 18, 2007 at 9:24 am
Anonymous
Yes, a perfect novel!
Thank you, Anonymous. Yours is the perfect disguise. For me, this one has more the scope of a poem than a novel.
–David
June 19, 2007 at 5:12 am
verbivore
Love the humor and also that you’re never lazy with your descriptions. A lovely scene!
Thank you, verbivore!
–David
June 19, 2007 at 7:38 am
iCalvyn
nice article…there was a movie call heroes, but i not yet watch it
Thanks, Calvyn. I doubt there’s a connection.
–David
June 21, 2007 at 4:17 pm
litlove
Mythic, magical and utterly charming. I love the way that the layers that are so characteristic of the VSNs are here embedded in the child’s perception of experience. Beautifully done.
Fearless boy spins the yarn of heroic boy drawn by sounds of love to the mythic plain of his making! It’s my favorite story. Thank you, Litlove.
–David
June 22, 2007 at 12:21 am
Miriam Robbins Midkiff
LOL! This little boy could well have been my once two-year-old daughter! I think this story is universal to most parents of toddlers! Thanks for the smile…and the memories!
Come to think of it, I should have made the hero a girl! Thank you, Miriam.
–David
June 26, 2007 at 4:07 pm
David Schleicher
This is the perfection of the form you display routinely on this blog. This is a perfect little scene. The descriptions are wondrous. I can almost remember being that little and how BIG every little moment was. –DHS
Thank you, David, for your kindness. This moment feels very big.
–David