My five-year-old paid no attention.
“Would you like to sleep a bit?”
He shook his head.
I wished he would, as I knew my nap would not be peaceful if he was playing. Weekend naps were destined to be disrupted, and there wasn’t much I could do.
Soon after I propped the pillows up and lay back with my book, he crawled into the room and sat on the floor with his toys, making a lot of whooshing and vrooming sounds.
“Please don’t be too loud,” I said without looking up from my book. “I really need to sleep.”
I put the book down after five minutes and turned to my side. I heard him walk out of the room and return.
“Can you come with me to my room?” he said. “I need to take a toy.”
“No, please go and get it yourself,” I murmured without opening my eyes. “Or else, play with what you have. We’ll get it later.”
“I need it now. I am afraid to go there alone.”
“Don’t be afraid. There is nothing in your room. After all, it is day time.” Please go, I whispered to myself.
I fell into slumber.
I heard his karate yell from the other room a little while later. I opened one eye and listened. He seemed to be fighting imaginary monsters or something.
“What’s up?” I asked, without raising my voice too much. I was afraid my nap would be frightened away if I shouted.
“There’s a ghost under the bed,” he declared.
“Yeah, okay,” I said, “I am sure you can fight any ghost.”
He came to my door. “I am frightened.”
“You are doing fine. Carry on.” Please stop talking to me, so I can concentrate on my sleep.
I heard more karate yells. Those seemed to give him courage.
I must have dozed off for a few minutes before I was woken up by him snuggling behind me into my blanket.
“What happened?” I muttered without turning around. “Got scared?”
He nodded. His nose rubbed against my back. It was cold.
“No problem, go to sleep. We’ll see about ghosts later.” I patted his back with my hand, relieved I could now sleep without getting disturbed every other minute.
There was an exciting and pleasant dream at the tip of my consciousness. I wanted to grab it before it slipped out again.
I heard a clinking sound. I listened without opening my eyes. A little later I heard it again. It came from his room. My senses froze.
“What’s that?” I said. “What’s that noise from your room?”
I felt the little cold nose move behind me. “That’s your son. He frightened me from under the bed…”
* * *