A Bed Time Story

“…and once he had finished involving his partners and supporters so deep in the plan that they could never squeal on him, he bought houses and cars and women on the side and lived happily ever after. The End.”, said dad as he closed the dusty leather bound version of The Valley Political Reader.
“But papa, what about The Merovingian?”, asked the child.
“He is just a myth. He is something that people whisper about when they are jealous of your successes. Why does it bother you, mi hijo?”, the concerned dad replied.
“Well, some of the kids were thinking about closing down on the lunch money business. I didn’t want to, because it is doing so good, but some of the other guys were getting nervous.”, confided the child.
“Did you remind them that they were in it up their eyeballs, like I taught you?”, sternly queried the dad.
“Yes papa, and it calmed them down, just like you said it would.”
“So what is the problem?”, asked the dad with real concern.
“There was a substitute in school last week and the other guys thought that maybe it was him.”
“Him, who?”
“The Merovingian!”, said the child as he pulled the sheet up a touch higher.
“Son, I told you he isn’t real, and even if he was, I don’t think that your little business would catch his attention.”
“The kids said that he is real and their daddies were coming home from work in bad moods and talking on the phone about him.”
“Don’t worry son, he won’t find out about you”
“I thought you said he wasn’t real?”
“He isn’t, now go to sleep!”, said the dad with a little more snap than he intended.
“Can you check the closet?”
“Check it for what?”
“Him.”, nervously said the child with a shudder as the sheet inched up a bit higher.
“He is not in the closet, there is no such thing. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll check anyway.”
Dad crossed the room, opened the closet, turned on the light and made an effort to search the closet.
“See, there is nothing in the closet. You are just being silly, now go to sleep!”
Dad returned to his son, kissed him on the forehead and patted his cheek, “Good night, mi hijo.”
“Good night, Papa.”
Dad left the room, turning off the lights as he went and retreated to his bedroom. He prepared for bed, turning on the reading lamp before extinguishing the other lights in the room and propping up the pillows for a read before sleeping, he made himself comfortable. He carefully read the contracts and agenda items that were stacked beside him, making sure that every name and company in them were people he could trust. Half way through the stack, he dozed off. He had not been sleeping too well lately and these bouts of drowsiness were becoming more common. He woke with a bit of a start as the stack of papers slid off his lap to land on the floor with a slap. “Crap!”, he exclaimed. Forced to crawl out of bed, he got on his knees to gather the papers. While on the floor he had an irresistible urge to peek under the bed which he gave into. Satisfied that there was nothing there, he rose with the pile of papers neatly restacked and glanced toward the closet. “What the hell.”, he thought as he walked to the closet, opening it with mild trepidation. After he had done so he felt just a little sheepish. Closing the door and turning toward his bed, the fact that the window was open just a crack caught his eye. He walked briskly to the window and pushed it down a miniscule amount and turned the latch on it. He crouched a bit and cupping his hands to his eyebrows he peered out the window. He saw nothing, as he expected and returned to his bed, placing the stack of papers on the night stand. He repositioned the pillows for sleeping, rolled over and turned out the light. Blissful sleep was quickly overtaking him when again, he was startled into wakefulness by the sound of a car starting just down the street. “Kind of late, but….Naw.”, he thought. He sought to return to that soothing state that he had been startled out of but now sleep would not come as had been far too common these last two months. He rolled back over, turned on the lamp and returned to pouring over the papers, looking for anything that might give something away.


A tribute to Jerry McHale and others who like a good piece of fiction (or is it?)