Under the Bed

Scuff�scuff�scuff.

She waited.

Scuff�scuff�scuff.

�I know you�re out there.�

Silence.

She rolled her eyes and stifled a giggle. �You�re not very good at sneaking.�

A furry white face peeked around the doorjamb, eyeballing the fourteen-year-old girl. Its black button eyes reflected the light from the television.

�Bobby, I can see your teddy bear. I know you�re out of bed. Again.� There was an aggrieved twist to the last comment. The kid had been tucked in, safe and sound, at 9:00 on the dot. Now it was closing in on midnight.

Two little blue eyes above a snub freckle-spattered nose inched into view. This was quickly followed by a blur of red PJs as Bobby abandoned stealth for speed. He pounced on his babysitter, knocking her back against the cushions.

�Oof! Careful, kiddo. You�re a lot heavier than you look.� Against her better judgment, she cuddled him for a few seconds. He was a pain in the ass, but damn it he was a cute pain in the ass.

�Melissa, can I��

Oh, no, you don't. Aloud, she said, �No. You�ve had a glass of water, a glass of milk, one bread-and-butter sandwich, six grapes, and two stories. You�ve gone potty three times in the last forty-five minutes.�

�But I� �

�Furthermore, your PJs are now correctly buttoned and you�ve obviously found your teddy bear. Go. To. Bed. Now.�

Bobby�s face scrunched up the way it usually did before he let loose a howl of epic proportions. Melissa braced herself. When Bobby screamed, car alarms had been known to go off in nearby counties. The storm didn�t come. Bobby put his head on Melissa�s shoulder and looked up at her.

�Oh, going for cute now, are we?� Melissa smiled.

"There's something under my bed, Melissa."

�There is not.�

�Is too.�

�Is not.� Wait, how did I get embroiled in an argument with a five-year-old?

�If there is something under your bed,� she held up her hand to forestall her charge�s eager agreement, �I repeat if there is something under your bed, it�s probably just Boo. You know how cats like to hide under things at night. He�s probably plotting his nightly attack on the dust bunnies right about now.�

Bobby sat upright and pounded his fist on the armrest. �No! There�s something under my bed and it�s not Boo! I keep hearing scratching noises and thumps. Maybe it's a green and yellow monster with five heads and fangs and a purple tail with a pink knob on the end and it's gonna eat me for dinner!!" Bobby's voice rose sharply to an ear-piercing wail. Melissa gritted her teeth and tried not to scream.

�There are no such things as monsters.�

�But Melissa�� Bobby whined.

�Don�t start with me. I already looked under your bed. I�m not looking again." Melissa shifted the boy off her lap and stood up. Bobby knelt where he�d been dumped.

�Bed.� She crossed her arms and gave him the patented Babysitter Glare.

"Me-li-saa!" He accompanied this impressive cry with a full-body crumple.

"Robert Warner, you get yourself up those stairs and into your bed! Your parents will be home in half an hour." Melissa pointed in the direction of the stairs. Bobby withdrew his head from his arms and assessed his chances.

"Can I have a glass of milk first?"

"To bed, Bobby."

"Water?"

"Bed."

Bobby heaved a sigh large enough to set sail to any number of paper boats. "Oh, all right." He trudged up the stairs.

Melissa listened until the little-boy steps faded away. Honestly, she thought, the kid is going to make a name for himself in the theater some day. If he doesn�t drop dead of a heart attack first. She pushed up the sleeves on her sweatshirt and flopped back on the couch. Grabbing the remote control, she flipped through the channels until she found a Laurel and Hardy marathon on channel 65.

Scuff�scuff�scuff�

Lord, Melissa prayed, give me patience. Or at least a ten-minute head start after I kill this kid. She turned around shot him another glare over the sofa.

�What.�

�Melissa, there really is something under my bed!"

�No there�s not. How many times do I have to tell you? There. Is. Nothing. Under. Your. Bed. Don't make me tell you again."

"Melissa, please! Please look under my bed again! This'll be the last time, I promise." Melissa made a mental note to ask Bobby�s parents for a raise.

"That's what you said the last time. Come on, I'll tuck you in. Again."

Together they mounted the stairs to the second floor. Bobby clung to Melissa's hand as they reached his room, the last door on the right. Melissa flung open the door. The Transformers curtains were undisturbed, the window shut and locked. The closet door closed. Bobby's toy chest with the big clown painted on it was against the wall. Nothing lay on the wood floor except the Thomas the Tank Engine rug Bobby�s parents had given him for his recent birthday. The twin-sized bed with Darth Maul bedspread and sheets was in the corner, safe and sound.

"Okay, in you go.�

Bobby started to scramble up.

�No, wait a minute, what are those on your feet?" Melissa asked.

"They're my new Bob the Builder shoes. Don't you like them?" Bobby held up one foot for Melissa's inspection.

"Yes, I see those are your new shoes, and they're very nice. But weren�t you barefoot a minute ago?�

�Yes. But I thought I�d better wear them to bed.�

�I hesitate to ask.�

"In case I dream I'm playing soccer. I don't want to play barefoot."

Melissa shrugged. If that�s what it took to keep the kid in bed, she certainly wasn�t going to argue.

"Hop in." said Melissa, patting the bed. Bobby obligingly hopped.

"Ribbit! Ribbit!" He stuck out his tongue like a frog snagging a fly.

"Cute." Melissa smiled in spite of herself. Maybe she�d re-think asking for that raise.

�Aren�t you going to look under the bed?� Bobby smiled up at her.

�Oh, all right. Last time though.� Melissa lay on her stomach and reached to pull up the red dust ruffle.

She felt warm breath on the back of her neck and looked up. Bobby�s face was millimeters away, his eyes crossed to focus on her.

�Hey, a little elbow room, please.� She flapped her elbows like a bird. Bobby rolled away, giggling.

For a few seconds, Melissa wondered what she would do if she came face-to-face with a monster, green and yellow or not. Ridiculous, I�m no better than Bobby. She flipped up the ruffle. Nothing. Not even an orphaned sock. Melissa let out the breath she hadn�t known she was holding and stood up.

�Well?� Bobby demanded.

�You�re clear. Want to see?� Bobby drew back, shaking his head.

Melissa smiled. �Night, kiddo. Sleep tight.� She plumped up the pillow and pulled the blankets up to Bobby's chin.

"Goodnight, Melissa!" Bobby hugged her. Melissa turned off the light and shut Bobby's door halfway, glancing back to make sure his Superman night light was burning. All she could see was a lump in the blankets. Hopefully, he�d stay there this time. Melissa headed downstairs, whistling to herself, and nearly tripped over a black shadow.

�YOW!�

Grabbing for the railing, she narrowly missed travelling the rest of the way down flat on her back. The shadow reached the foot of the steps and darted through a patch of moonlight on the way into the kitchen. Muttering words she fervently hoped Bobby would never learn, Melissa followed. She knelt by the table in the breakfast nook and addressed the black blob in the corner.

�Boo! What is the matter with you? You nearly made me break my neck!�

The cat hissed in response, bottle-brush tail lashing.

�Don't you sass me, buster.� Boo didn�t spare her a second glance on his way out.

Great, now I'm disciplining a cat. I need a vacation. Halfway back to the den, Melissa heard a muffled thump from above. Not again. She started back upstairs. There was a sharp sound of glass shattering, and Bobby began to scream�loud, shrill shrieks as fast as he could suck in a breath. Melissa bolted up the stairs, caroming off the corner at the top, hurtling towards the bedroom. Pleasepleasepleaseplease she begged. The door popped open under her weight and bounced back against the wall. Bobby�s screams still rang in the air. Oh God,oh God. I�ll never say another word against the kid. He can stay up as long as he wants. He can eat ice cream for dinner. He--the lights snapped on under her groping fingers. The screams stopped.

Bobby's curtains were gone�the metal rod ripped from its sockets and bent into an obscene boomerang. Bobby loves boomerangs. The thought flickered across Melissa�s mind and was gone. Shards of glass from the broken window reflected the overhead light. Bobby�s beloved train wallpaper was scored floor-to-ceiling and hung down in pathetic strips. Every toy was mounded on top of the Thomas rug. The toy chest itself was upside down against the opposite wall. And the bed�something had reduced the bed to a bundle of wooden splinters and shredded linens.

"Bobby! Bobby where are you?! Bobby!" Melissa screamed. Her cry hung in the air unanswered. She ran to the window and looked out into the inky night. Phone, got to get to a phone. Call. Help.

Scuff�scuff�scuff�

�Bobby? Is that you? You�d better not be playing a trick on me!� Melissa spun from the window.

Scuff�scuff�scuff�

It was coming from under what was left of the bed. Melissa crept closer and lifted a corner of the tattered dust ruffle.

Scuff�scuff...scuff�

She was just in time to see a purple tail with a big pink knob on the end disappearing into the floor. Inching forward on her stomach, Melissa snatched at a small object in the corner. She turned the Bob the Builder shoe upside down. Blood oozed out, pooling in her lap as her mouth opened in a soundless scream of horror.

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