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The Creature Under the Bed
Jack was a sensible boy. He had a good head on his shoulders. He didn’t believe in fairies, or dragons, or little creatures that live in your washing machine and steal your socks.
He knew the things in movies and TV shows weren’t real. He never worried about ghosts, zombies, or goblins that like to pinch your behind when you aren’t looking.
He wasn’t even convinced that there were such things as pirates, or ninjas.
His parents often bragged to their friends that their son would be a great success in life, thanks to his sensible nature. “No wild dreams of life as a lion tamer, or rock and roll musician! Our Jack is certain to have a career in something practical and useful. Perhaps he’ll be an accountant!”
His parents were giddy at the thought.
Yes, Jack was a sensible boy. Usually.
But not always.
Over the past few months, at night, when the shadows crept up the walls, and strange noises sounded in the trees outside his window, Jack would sometimes find himself having bouts of… imagination.
He worried that the scraping sounds in the darkness meant that something was creeping, creeping, creeping toward him.
Not that Jack believed in creepy things in the shadows. He did not.
But somehow, the things moving in the darkness did not take his disbelief into consideration. He continued to hear unsettling sounds, night after night. And his imagination continued to battle his good common sense.
Finally, one night, Jack decided enough was enough. He needed to prove to himself once and for all that the creepy shadow monsters of his imagination, like so many other unusual and fantastical things, simply did not exist. Perhaps then he could put his increasingly unwanted imagination to rest, once and for all.
He leaned over the edge of his bed, lifting the blankets to peek into the space beneath the mattress.
Clicking on a small flashlight he’d taken from his nightstand, he searched the dark space.
As the light swept the bare floor underneath the bed, it caught a flash of movement – a blur of red and blue.
Startled, Jack froze. Slowly, his stomach in knots, he moved the light in the direction the blur had seemed to go.
The light caught on a shaking ball of red and blue fur. It trembled violently, trying to scooch away from the light. Jack tracked it with his flashlight, trying to make sense of it all.
Defeated, the ball of fur uncurled slightly, to reveal a pair of huge, yellow, tear-filled eyes. The creature had six legs, two of which were wrapped around its head, as though still trying to hide. Long, curled antennae topped its fuzzy head.
Jack yelped and fell off the bed. From the space beneath the mattress, he heard an equally startled shout from the creature.
Shaking, Jack grabbed the flashlight and scooted away to a safe distance. He pointed the beam at the bed and, in a harsh whisper, said, “What are you?!”
The bottom of the blanket lifted slightly, and he saw one yellow eye peering back at him. “What are you?” it echoed softly.
“You… you can talk?” Jack asked, astonished.
“You can talk.” It repeated, in a slightly huffy tone.
“Are you like a parrot? Do you just repeat everything I say?”
“What’s a parrot?”
Well, that settled that question.
“What are you doing here?” Jack demanded. “This is my room! My house! And I don’t believe in monsters!”
“I believe in monsters,” the little creature responded sadly, pushing its way through the blankets a little farther.
Jack was not sure how to respond.
“Monsters are why I’m here, all alone. Monsters are why I can’t go home.” The little ball of fluff sniffled, and despite not believing in such things as monsters and small, fluffy alien creatures, Jack’s heart broke a little with sympathy.
“Are you stuck here, then?” he asked.
The creature nodded, and a big tear splashed to the floor.
“I had a little magic, as all Porfkins do, but when the monsters came, I used it all up. I created a portal to a place far, far away, somewhere I’d be safe. And now I’m here, and I am safe, but… I miss my family. I don’t even know if they’re all right.” The Porfkin sniffled again.
Jack felt another twinge of empathy. “Can’t you just do more magic and send yourself back?”
The Porfkin shook its head. “It takes a lot of power to create a portal. And Porfkin magic takes a lot of time to build back up. It may be months before I’ve got enough. And I keep having to use the little I’ve got to find food and stay hidden. Although it seems I’ve failed at that last part.” Its shoulders slumped, discouraged.
Jack considered the little creature in front of him. He was a sensible boy, and had never had any desire for strange adventures with magical creatures. He’d never even believed such things were possible. But how could he deny the evidence of his own two eyes?
Perhaps there was more magic in the universe than he’d ever realized.
“What’s your name?” he asked the little Porfkin.
“Throm,” the creature responded.
“Well, Throm,” Jack announced, standing up, “I think I may be able to help you get home!”
****
Over the next several weeks, Jack’s parents began to notice that their son was behaving a bit… less sensibly than usual.
He came downstairs one day, in a strangely lumpy sweater, and started rummaging through the kitchen cupboards. When his parents asked Jack what he was looking for, a strange voice answered, “sustenance.” Jack immediately began coughing wildly, stating that he had a frog in his throat, then ran back upstairs, carrying a handful of russet potatoes and a can of tuna.
After that, Jack’s parents noticed that food was going missing from the kitchens on a regular basis. And they were unusual food combinations, like dried plums, lima beans, and anchovy paste. Not the sort of thing you’d expect a young boy to snack on.
There were also strange noises coming from his room at night. Sudden bursts of laughter, odd thumping, the occasional loud “pop!” And it sounded like he was spending a lot of time talking to himself.
During the day, Jack’s parents noticed that he’d begun watching science fiction programs on TV, and reading fantasy novels. He also spent a fair amount of time doodling in notebooks, drawing what appeared to be cute, furry bugs with huge, yellow eyes.
It also seemed that Jack was beginning to have odd dreams. Two weeks ago, at breakfast, he told his dad about a dream he’d had where he’d flown around an alien planet, saving fluffy creatures from large, toothy monsters.
“I think it would make a great movie, don’t you, Dad?” Jack finished, as he headed back to his room, carrying his leftover toast and a jar of onion pearls. His baffled parents stared after him, wondering what was going on in their sensible son’s head.
Then, last Tuesday, Jack asked his mother which weapon she thought would work better against monsters: garlic, or silver?
“I know garlic is usually just a vampire thing,” he explained, “but it’s pretty strong stuff! Maybe a lot of nasty creatures avoid it! Obviously, silver weapons are probably a safe bet, too, because they’re actual weapons, but it would be hard to hold a sword when you’re only about eight inches tall…”
Swords? Weaponized garlic? This was the final straw. Jack’s parents had no idea what had come over their son, and they were officially concerned.
“Jack!” his mother cried, “What has gotten into you lately? You used to be such a sensible boy, but now you’ve got your head in the clouds all the time!”
“Your mother’s right, son,” his father chimed in. “When are you going to rejoin us here, in reality?”
Jack thought it over. These past weeks with Throm really had changed him, hadn’t they? He was still a sensible boy, but now he knew that the universe was much bigger than he’d ever realized. And that knowledge had lit a blazing fire in his once-dormant imagination.
If fuzzy Porfkins from alien planets could exist in real life, who knew what else might be out there?
Jack smiled at his parents. “I don’t know, Mom and Dad. I kind of like my new reality.”
As they watched him, bewildered, he grabbed a raw egg from the refrigerator and ran back up to his room, grinning broadly.
A few weeks later, Jack and Throm sat together in the bedroom, unusually somber.
Thanks to Jack’s generous supply of food and shelter, Throm had finally been able to regain enough magic to create a portal. It was time for him to go home, and see what had become of his family.
“Will I ever see you again?” Jack asked, trying not to let any tears escape his eyes.
“I can’t say for sure,” Throm answered sadly. “So much depends on what’s happening at home. I need to find my family, and help them fight the monsters. But thanks to our brainstorming sessions, I have some good ideas that can help my people fight! Thank you for that, friend Jack.”
“You’re welcome,” Jack tried to smile. “I hope you and your family are able to succeed, and have a joyful life together.”
“I wish the same for you, friend Jack,” Throm responded. “Perhaps one last human hug before I go?”
Jack scooped Throm up into his arms, and hugged him gently to his chest. A swirl of glowing colors began forming in the space under the bed. Jack set Throm on the floor.
“Be well, friend Jack,” Throm whispered. He turned toward the swirling portal.
“Be well, friend Throm,” Jack smiled, a tear slowly escaping and falling down his cheek.
Throm winked one huge eye at Jack, then disappeared through the portal. It closed behind him with a loud pop.
Sighing, Jack sat on his bed and dried his eyes. He would miss Throm, but he would never regret having met him. Throm had opened his eyes to a whole universe of possibilities that Jack had never even considered before.
Jack’s mother tapped on the door, interrupting his thoughts. “Jack? What was that loud pop I heard just now?”
Jack grinned at her. “Oh, nothing major, Mom. Just an alien traveling through a portal, back to his home planet.”
His mother shook her head. “My goodness, Jack, the stories you come up with lately! Maybe instead of an accountant, you should be an author.”
As she closed the door behind her, a wide smile spread across Jack’s face. An author, huh? What a sensible idea! He did, after all, have one heck of a story to tell!
The End
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