This Month's Story

(I had been watching my two children stay up past their bedtime and the next day wrote down what I saw. Remember it’s all true but the last sentence. I’m really not too sure about it…)

Mike put the empty iced tea glass carefully down on the tabletop and then turned and watched his smaller sister, Cathy.

He realized that it was too late to get any ice from her; already the last piece from her glass was lumped half in and half out of her mouth. The water drooling down her chin had soiled the top of her nightie.

He quickly went over and took the empty glass she held and put it beside its twin on the table. He knew they had to be careful; the crash of a broken glass would remind their parents that the two of them were still up, and it was well past their already extended bedtime.

He looked again at Cathy. It was no use. The small piece of ice she had had was gone. He wet his lips as he looked at her; he was still thirsty.

“Tice,”

She pointed toward the kitchen.

He looked to where she was pointing and then remembered the ice tray on the kitchen counter beside the sink.

She was right. The ice tray had been full and might still hold some unmelted ice. If they hurried, they would be able to get more before it all melted. There was a stepstool there and he would be able to reach the tray.

He nodded his head at her and they both hurried through the short hall toward the dark kitchen. When they reached the sill, however, Cathy stopped abruptly.

Mike, right behind her, stopped also. Puzzled, he looked at his sister. Cathy was starring into the kitchen, into the dark.

After a moment, her hand went up and she pointed mysteriously at the room.

She whispered...

“Bugabear.”

Mike turned from her and looked into the gloom of the kitchen.

At first he could see nothing; then, as his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, he began to make out the stool and then the refrigerator hulking, huge and white in the darkness.

He stared long and hard until finally the sink counter and the closet outlines became clearer and more familiar to him.

He started to step over the sill into the room, when he felt that his sister was not with him. Looking back, he saw her squatting on her haunches, her body rocking from side to side as she looked knowingly into the different corners of the room ahead of him.

“Bugabear,”

She was quiet for a few moments, and then whispered it again.

“Bugabear,”

Mike stepped back and squatted by her side.

His eyes grew big as he tried to see the whole room. By now his eyes had grown fully accustomed to the dim light, he could see all of the objects in the room.

As he slowly looked from object to object, he licked his lips nervously.

The gloom at the top of the refrigerator, the inside of the sink itself, and beyond these, the far side of the stove -- these he could not see.

He squatted there listening, straining his ears to tell him the things his eyes could not see. The quiet of the hall and the dark kitchen surrounded them.

Suddenly the remaining ice in the distant tray shifted as it melted, plopping several cubes noisily into the melted portion of the tray.

Cathy stood up quickly and started running back through the short hall, leaving a startled Mike staring into the now quiet, dark room.

He stood up still staring, his mouth a small “o”. And then, turning, he swiftly followed her through the hall into the well-lighted living room. Here their hurried entrance reminded their parents of the time. In moments both children were picked up and carried off to bed.

***

 

In the kitchen, the electric clock purred quietly on the wall above the tray of rapidly melting ice.

In the deep shadow beside the stove, the Bugabear idly flexed its long claws, stared hungrily at the empty doorway, then sighed and slowly, very slowly, disappeared.