1 comments/ 8653 views/ 0 favorites The Monster Under The Bed Ch. 02 By: AzPilot This needed closure was brought on by "Anonymous in the USA", my nice daughter and my "pain in the butt" daughter. After a few moments thought, I knew they were correct. Hey, "right" is a direction. Here's my answer. I hope you like it. * The years had gone by. I had gone into the service, had attended college and had gotten a job. All the way, and all the time, collecting more friends. Soon enough, I met a young lady. We married and had a family, in that order. My wife soon became my best friend as well as my lover. Life was good, with two verys. I told my children about Jake, but they never seemed to be sensitive to any emanations from under their beds. A couple had some problems with their closets, but I couldn't offer any advice in that regard as I had never been issued a closet monster of my own; apparently through a bureaucratic glitch when I was a kid. I did hear that closet monsters were grumpier, probably because of all the hangers strewn throughout the floor, shelf and rod. I don't blame them, I hate a bunch of tangled hangers, too, and I don't have to contend with them in my sole living space. It was funny to see the reactions of the various kids. A couple were truly leery for some time, and stayed out of their closets as much as possible. A couple of the others ignored them- a non problem. One, who sleepwalked a bit, could often be found curled up on a small heap of clothes in the closet and sleeping soundly. In her own way, she had made peace with her closet monster. None had a monster under the bed. I often thought that it was no wonder they were depraved- they were deprived. Anyway, as time went on, the children grew up, moved out, and on. That was fine. Several of them stayed close so we never had the dreaded "empty nester' syndrome. Some of our kids had ups and downs, so we were glad to help. We even had some grandkids live with us at times. They never had their own monster, closet or otherwise. One did scream about a spider in the bathroom one time, but was calmed when we assured her that he was "Freddie" who ate other bugs around the house. She bought it and never had a problem again. It got quiet again for a while, then a few greatgrands came along. Times were not the best and they came to live with us for a time. They, too, got the information about the monsters, underbed and closet, but again, they never had the experience, sad to say. Things got better and they went back to live with their parents; we were once again alone. It was quiet, but comfortable. Then the unexpected happened. My wife of many years died. I was now alone. What had been a sometimes crowded, noisy, warm home was now a large, echoing cold structure. I went through the usual pity party and why me's, but when it was over, I was still alone. I didn't go out as much; just stayed home, read and watched TV. About a year after my wife had died, I was taking a nap on my bed one afternoon and I heard a kind of a skitter. It was followed by a skritch. That got my attention. I rolled on my side, looked over the side of the bed and peeked down at the floor. Suddenly, out popped a spotted black and white dust bunny. Wait a minute; that was Jakes favorite. Jake, my under-the-bed monster when I was a young boy. When he left, after I had grown, he had taken that one with him. My mind almost burst with emotion. JAKE, my mind shouted. Sure enough, he beamed back, "don't shout". He was back, under my bed. The feeling was indescribable. I had consoled myself that I was going to be alone the rest of my life. And here was Jake, back again. We talked for two days straight, getting each others stories. After leaving me when I had grown, he had been assigned to a series of other children, leaving, as required, when they no longer believed. There had always been a hiccup in his service record, as I had not only believed, I had KNOWN. It seems that the elders at the academy had kept an eye on my life, all this time. They knew when I became a "one" again. They were also too well aware of the rapport that the two of us had , years ago. It seems that they had called a special meeting to discuss this very problem of mine. It was decided by a majority that as soon as Jake was finished at his present assignment, he would be shifted to beneath my bed, once again. It took a year. He was here now. He would stay with me until, shall we say, my contract ended. I really don't know how to describe my feelings. Here was my best friend, my only friend from my youth, and he was going to keep me company from now on. What a wonderful feeling. We could keep each other entertained with tales of what went on in the years we were separated. I'll bet he has some doozies. I've had some adventures, of course, and they'll take some telling, too. I'm sure we'll keep each other entertained for the few remaining years of my life. It's sure perked me up. It's given me a purpose. I now have someone to talk with, to bore with photos of the kids, grandkids and the greatgrands. Oh, my. I can certainly feel the rush that he has and his eagerness to tell me about all the kids he was assigned to- the ones that ignored him, the ones that feared him and the ones that tolerated him. I was the only one that the elders knew about that had ever communicated with a under-the-bed monster and KNEW, not just believed. Of course, that was the reason for the reunion now. The elders never quite knew what to do about our association, years ago. They tacitly approved, for they never stopped it by moving Jake, but it was so foreign that they couldn't get a clear decision on how to handle it. Now, I found out that they had followed me through maturity, marriage, the child rearing years and seemed that they liked what they saw. They knew I told the children about the monsters, both under-the-bed, and closet, and had portrayed them in a good light. It seems that this had earned me some special points with the closet monster society, too. All this helped the elders to make the decision to reassign Jake to my bed again, over 60 years later. By this time, I was down to a single twin bed once again. It was all I needed now, as when I was little. I discussed it with Jake. We tossed it around for a while, then I realized that Jake had only been under children's beds all his career. Those are little beds. Kids beds, single beds, bunkbeds. What the Hell, why not give him a treat? That's when I told him what I was going to do. As a treat for being my best friend, I decided to buy a kingsized bed and give Jake more room than he had ever had in his entire career. Needless to say that Jake was overjoyed. I went out that very day and bought a new, kingsized bed. It was delivered the next day and Jake could hardly contain himself, waiting in the closet for the men to assemble this magnificent edifice to Morpheus. They had barely left the room when he scooted out of the closet, much to the relief of Hank, my closet monster and slid under the bed in the finest tradition of a major leaguer sliding into first base. Wow, I wish you could have seen it. He did circles, esses, spins and twirls. Like a kid in an amusement park for the first time. It took him a week, at least to calm down. I hadn't had so much fun since I watched my kids learning to walk. We're going to have a great time in the time left. I now have a purpose. I look forward to getting up every day and even more important, I look forward to being with Jake every day. Jake and I will have each other for company and that's a good thing. Have a nice day. I know I will. The Monster Under The Bed Ch. 03 It seems that Hank, the closet monster, got mad because his story wasn't told, so here it is. You'd best read the first story and chapter 2 in order to truly understand, if possible, what was going on in my home. In my advancing senility, I sometimes lose track, too. In all my happy feelings about the future of the rest of my life, it seems that I had rather ignored another significant member of my household. I'm guilty, your honor, of gross abuse of the friendship of another household member. Yes, member, as he was more than a resident. Hank has the status of family member somewhere between cousin and brother. How that happened is another story. We kinda, sorta inherited him. He came with the house. You see, Hank is a closet monster; sometimes the bane of children and some adults. Yes, adults, too. I learned from close association, that they are not limited to any age of the person they scare, as are the under-the-bed- monsters. They tend to be grumpier, too. Of course, I had known that for many years and had attributed that to the fact that their close association with wire coat hangers caused it. After I got to know Hank, I found out that I was mistaken. That was surprising. Not that I was wrong, because with a wife and three daughters I became accustomed to not being correct, A LOT. If you're an old married man and a father, you instantly know what I'm talking about. What had surprised me was the fact that closet monsters tangled up the coat hangers as amusement. That was their play. I had noticed, in some peoples closets, tangles and webs of hangers that were on the order of the Gordian Knot; puzzles that were all but unsolvable unless one knew what, or where the key piece was to unlock the mess. After a long discussion with Hank, one day, I had learned that each closet monster had his own pattern (really it's, as they have no discernable sex, as male and female), that once developed, was registered with their council headquarters to prevent duplication. No wonder some friends of mine have had to resort to wire cutters in order to straighten out their closet. I had never known these things before. If you remember, I said a while back, that for some reason, I had never had a closet monster. At least until we had purchased this house some years ago. The house was about two years old when we bought it and we moved in with four of our six kids. The two older boys stayed in the state we had moved from. Other than being painted a bilious green, inside and out, it suited us fine. Then I found out that we had also gained a closet monster. Just one, even though we had five closets total. This was new to me, so I didn't question the "shortage", so's to speak. What did I know. The whole thing, of course, went over my wife's head as she was Irish and didn't know monsters. Under-the-bed, or closet. Pixies, she knew. Leprechauns, she knew; monsters, she didn't. Anyway, as you know, I was sensitive to monsters and could communicate with them. Certainly, growing up with a under-the-bed monster as my best/only friend made me respect them and be aware of them more than most folks. Of course, when growing up, as I said, I wasn't issued a closet monster of my own so I only had fleeting knowledge of them until we moved into this house. That's when I bumped into Hank, one day. Well, you don't really bump into them as they are very wispy. Unsubstantial is a word that jumps to the front of my mind, and you really get a jar when a word that big jumps in your mind. I digress, but that goes with old age. I sensed Hank browsing through our master bedroom closet. He was not in a good mood as he looked over our motley collection of hangers; plastic, some wood and various types of wire hangers. I told you before that they tended to be grumpy, didn't I? He'd worked himself up into a medium sized snit by the time I found him. I think I surprised the heck out of him when he found that I could communicate with him. Wow! That shook him. We were going out someplace, so I didn't really have time to talk right then, but I let him know that it was my closet and I would be back. By the time we all returned to the house that evening, I found that all the hangers in four closets were arranged neatly as to size and type. To this day, the hangers in the clothes closet by the front door are always tangled, but I can live with that. I've noticed that most everyone's front closet has tangled hangers. Over time, we- he and I, came to an agreement. He was welcome to be part of the family if he wished. Remembering my association with Jake, my under-the-bed monster, I felt that Hank could really be a help with our family. Those of you with kids know that some, if not all, are slobs and some are neatniks. As a boy, I had enlisted Jake into picking up my room and making my bed. I hoped that I could persuade Hank, as I called him, into helping to keep the kids closets neat. I'll admit, it took a while to con, er, persuade him into doing this, but I'll tell you, it sure made my wife happy when she saw the results. The kids were happier, too, as she didn't harp at them anymore to "pick up your closet" The kids never had an affinity for him but did realize that there were subtle things going on in the house. As I mentioned before, one daughter sleep walked when she was young and in her wanderings, would often end up in her closet, sound asleep on a pile of clothes. Hank liked that and encouraged it. He kept her pile of dirty clothes fluffed up so they would cushion her nicely. After the kids grew up and left home, Hank had little to do. Things were quiet until I became a widower and a gloom settled over the house. As I related before, it was a year of loneliness. Then Jake, my old monster under-the-bed showed up to keep me company. Even though they were different, the two societies had had a very long association with each other so tended to be friendly. Jake and Hank got along very well and kept me in the loop also. It became interesting to have someone to talk with each day and the stories were certainly different. Sometimes, they were funny, other times they were strange, but they have never yet been boring. Life has been strange, but it's sure been good as I look forward to a little more of it.