When Walter's splitting headache ceased and the dancing blurs of color and darkness faded from his eyes, he woke up to find himself under a bed. He could tell by the way the springs and wooden slats pressed against his spine, pressed him into the grass. It was green, thin and spiky like hair. It tickled his nose and made his eyes water. A sneeze escaped him.
From where he was, he peeked out and saw large wooded trunks and scraggly bushes on the far side of a patch of wild grass and pansy flowers. There weren't any signs human activity but there was plenty of movement by mice in the grass and birds in the trees. It wasn't completely quiet for the birdsong provided a peaceful soundtrack.
He closed his eyes and let it all soak in. It was perfect. The perfect place to fall asleep...
"No!"
His eyes flew open and in front of him was a girl's face, upside down, looking at him, panicked. Her orange hair hung and piled in pools of liquid gold in the grass do to gravity's tug on it. Walter screamed in surprise. Her face was flushed pink like bubbling blush wine, amber eyes wide.
"Don't fall asleep Walter! At least not yet." She bit her lip, an obvious nervous habit. A few more strands of orange hair slowly fell around her head. In the back of his brain was an itch, an ache of familiarity yet misunderstanding.
"Why not?" He asked. The sound took him aback. That was not his voice, couldn't be. It sounded too old, too scratchy and quiet.
The girl only offered, "You can't." Then she said, "Why don't you come out and play? It's a beautiful day."
"Oh I don't know..." Walter was already comfortable, warm, content. There was a weariness in his bones, a pull on his eyelids that tempted him. Sleep beckoned.
"Oh come on Walter!" She disappeared for a second before she jumped back into view, this time on the ground. With a full view of her, he was able to tell that she was somewhere around ten or eleven in age. The girl crawled over to him and laid opposite, her hips just slightly connecting with his own. She pursed her lip and begged him, "Please? At least one last time?"
Her words tugged at something in his heart as well as something in the back of his mind. It stirred him. Therefore, compelled, he agreed.
"Yay!" The girl's eyes lit up and she scooted backwards so that Walter could crawl out from under the bed. It took little effort. He sounded like a broken record, his hands looked wrinkly but his bones and muscles felt young, new, itching to be used. He shifted slightly, grabbing fistfuls of grass before him to tug himself out from under the bed. His whole body shimmied like a giant snake.
"Take your time." The girl said quietly.
It didn't take him all that long though. He inched himself with great speed into the sunlight with thin arms, his fingernails becoming encrusted with dirt. All the while, the girl watched on in silent support. When his feet cleared the bed frame Walter sat back on his knees and just stared up at the sky. It was a pale cloudless blue.
"Are you okay?"
"Of course!" Walter locked eyes with her and she smiled.
"Ready to play?" The girl stood up and jumped up and down.
"What game?"
She lunged forward and tapped his shoulder. A fit of giggles escaped her like she was the sun and the sound was a solar flare.
"Tag! You're it!" She turned on her heel and bolted off toward the trees, her bare feet pressing the long grass down, the blades brushing the bottom of her long white dress. Walter hurried to his feet, wobbled for a bit, then took off after her.
YOU ARE READING
Bedtime Stories
Short StoryA short story in which an old man named Walter is given the final decision between whether he lives or passes on. 04.8.15 For a contest; results June 1st. Cover by @inspiringwords12