I had no magic as a child. I would have used it if I had, to stop the Boots from kicking me where I hid. Flat against the bedroom floor with the floor of the sky just inches above my nose, I knew no safer, more anonymous place to be, but even so certain shoes and socks meant trouble. The more I saw of the grownup world from under the bed, the more I learned to predict behavior from ankles and feet. Sneakers wanted to slide in with me. Polished tried to drag me out. Scuffed and sockless went down on a knee to offer me only his hand to hold and squeezed mine back and could have asked me to kill for him and I would have. When they all went away, I taught myself to cling to the floor of the sky, so nobody swinging a broomstick under the bed would know I was there. It’s a pity. She could have healed us so easily. She could have said, I know it’s hard. I know the choices I make mean trouble for you but I’m suffering too and I want something good out of life; do this for me. She never said it. Whenever they kissed and she lifted her heel from the floor, she was making an offer. They either set her back, or took her weight and stood for a while off balance, or lifted her and placed her somewhere above me where she wouldn’t fall. After that, there were no surprises. Barefoot men are all alike. I lay against the floor and touched my hand to the breathing sky as it moved, and waited for the day when I would either find my magic or grow up enough for a place of my own.
Copyright © October 02, 2009 David Hodges
This work by davidbdale is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at davidbdale.wordpress.com.
Very Short Novels 
14 comments
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October 3, 2009 at 10:52 am
The Querulous Squirrel
Beautiful sad poetry. It’s hard to capture a child’s voice and point of view without making it too precocious and you got it just right. Lovely and memorable.
What I delightful coincidence. I was just over at Querulous Squirrel reading your wit and wisdom. Everyone should follow me back there now to read about the joys of tardiness, your Werewolf Husband, and the shrink who finds a cure. And that’s just the first page. Thanks, QS.
–David
October 4, 2009 at 12:47 pm
Hoda
Brilliant pain…. brilliantly portrayed. Amazing but unsurprising talent you have, David.
Hoda
Thank you, Hoda.
–David
October 6, 2009 at 5:16 am
Hussein
Hi
I’m from Iran.
I need this story because i give it to my English teacher.
I most read on and say it to Persian and English.
This is a good story.
thanks.
You’re welcome, Hussein. I’d love to hear your translation of “Scuffed and sockless.”
–David
October 9, 2009 at 3:07 pm
OmbudsBen
One hopes some day a pair might appear that magically fit. “Boots! Run for it!”
Hey, Ben! You’ve subtly alluded to the fairy tale style. I hope for you it’s more Pan’s Labyrinth and less Disney presents Cinderella. Welcome back!
–David
October 10, 2009 at 4:52 pm
anhinga
This is powerful writing. Every social worker in America should read it “just in case.” I would only hope a child such as this would borrow wisdom from his adult-self-to-be and understand the events on the sky’s floor don’t define him.
And I just know that by that you mean, “a child in a situation such as this,” anhinga. I would hope so too. She seems pretty sharp. Thank you very much for your loyal generosity.
–David
October 11, 2009 at 3:54 pm
Jannie Funster
Holy cow, David. What a mini masterpiece, as usual. This reminds me of a broomstick or two in my past, but it’s nothing but blue sky now.
Oh, Jannie, how poignant and clever of you. My heart goes out. All praise blue skies.
–David
October 12, 2009 at 3:10 am
petesmama
Amazing, as always. Sad, but amazingly written.
How did I miss this comment all these months, petesmama? Thank you, as always, for letting me know what you’ve read and what you’ve enjoyed!
–David
October 26, 2009 at 9:36 pm
Anonymous
..one of your best… wow… Granted it is all ficiton, but I could almost hear that child breating under that bed…..most excellent..
grantmant
October 26, 2009 at 9:38 pm
grantman
wow…one of your best.. I could almost hear that child breathing under that bed….You captured the moment for us all….
grantman
Hey, grantman! I was distracted by your Anonymous comment above. Glad you liked this one. If I’ve tracked your many comments correctly, you have a special sympathy for young people in peril. Always good to hear from you.
–David
October 27, 2009 at 8:14 am
Dave Hambidge
I’m late as was on hols, catching up on friends.
This is another cracker boss, sad and yet resilient to the shit going on above one. BWD and KUTGW.
dave
Hey, thanks, Dave. Welcome back! Bacillary White Diarrhea? Biological Warfare Defense? Keep Up The Good Work?
–David
November 10, 2009 at 11:12 am
Anonymous
nice novelllllllll
app. u
August 10, 2010 at 7:45 pm
Deirdre
David,
Found my way over to you by way of Future Tom, and wow! The emotion that you are able to evoke in so few words is unbelievable. Wonderful writing. As a former children’s social worker, this one, as well as Tan Lines, really struck a chord with me. Keep up the excellent work!
Thank you so much, Dierdre, especially for telling me how you found your way to Very Short Novels! I very much appreciate your visit and comment.
–David
March 19, 2013 at 7:10 am
Xxamamiya
AMAZING ! 🙂
Looking for PG-13 NOVELS and i bumped into this. It gives me creeps haha. Thingking a child is under the bed XD
August 4, 2013 at 4:10 am
pussy
I liked the story much