Shift

Tick Tock.

The moon glanced shyly through the open window, illuminating the boy's bedroom. Toys sat quietly; remote control cars stowed neatly in a box, toy soldiers strewn carelessly in the corner of the room, a teddy bear flung precariously to the edge of the bed.

The boy slept, a little snore escaping at intervals from his half-open mouth.

The clock struck twelve. Minutes crawled by, slowly, slowly, advancing steadily as the tide, drawn by the moon's gentle pull.

Tick Tock.

00:59:59

Tick Tock.

Thirteen o'clock.

The world of the living hung still, waiting. Life paused, to make way for this hour. An hour, wrapped in the shimmer of a second.

In the secret hour, still things stirred.

Toy cars moved of their own accord. Wooden soldiers assembled in position, continuing their mock battle the night before. Dolls all over the world blinked their eyes, waking from their dreamless sleep.

In the child's room, the Bear woke. Its eyes changed from a dull black to a clear, translucent brown. It stretched, felt itself slipping, scrambled to hoist itself back onto bed. There, it crawled over to observe the sleeping boy, the way his chest was half risen in mid-breath, the sweet pout of his lips. It caressed the boy's cheek with a furry paw, glancing at the still hands of the wall clock as it did.

Within the Bear, there was another clock. A nightly countdown to the end of the magic hour.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The Bear felt at its chest, sensing no heartbeat.

Not much longer now. Soon, I'll be a real boy.

***

The moon illuminated the child's desk, a fortress in a land of toys. The Bear padded its way across the bedroom, then painstakingly scaled the handles of the desk cabinet to reach the tabletop. The summit was messy, strewn with crayons, paper, pencils. In the corner, was a small sewing basket.

A half-made doll lay in the basket, hairless and jelly armed. It looked at the Bear blankly through one button eye, pinned in place with a silver needle threaded with dark brown thread. The silver glinted in the moonlight, beckoning.

Tick Tock.

Only seconds left to the hour. Summoning the last of its strength, the Bear pulled out the needle. The button fell with a soft click. The doll, now blind, lolled its head.

The Bear impaled himself with the needle, burying it deep within its chest, so deep that it could not be seen or felt. It left a bit of thread outside his body, camouflaged within brown fur. It felt no pain.

Tick Tock.

The Bear hurled himself off the desk, landing painlessly on the floor with a soft thump.

I want to be a real boy.

The second hand of the clock trembled.

Soon.

The hour shimmered, then shifted, as the clock struck.

01:00:00

The boy stirred, gently expelling the breath poised in his lungs. His lungs contracted, then expanded again, filling with the air of life. The world moved, stringing time along on predetermined tracks, the train of a universe chugging inexorably on.

Below him, the Bear lay, still as death. Waiting.

***

Night. The moon cast her cool gaze upon the room, as she did daily, always observing in silence.

The boy slept, face turned to the open window, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight.

He had kicked his blanket aside, it now hung, twisted over one ankle and half on the floor. Toy soldiers were stowed away safely in the drawers, a dismantled remote control car lay under the bed. The Bear, once again flung precariously to the edge of the bed, lay very still.

Tick Tock.

The clock marked the time, counting down slowly but surely to the magic hour.

00:59:59

Tick. Tock.

Thirteen o'clock.

The Bear's eyes lit up, turning a translucent brown. As if by instinct, it twisted, scrambling to pull himself up onto the bed proper.

Climbing atop the boy's chest, the Bear reached into itself and located the brown thread from yesterday's needle. It pulled hard, extracting the slender spike from its soft, stuffed, body. The Bear turned the gleaming needle upon the boy, pricking him ever so slightly over his momentarily muted heart. A bead of blood rose to mark the wound, fat and glistening in the moonlight. The Bear then lowered itself, chest first, upon the needle, so that it was lying fur to skin. The drop of blood seeped slowly into its body, staining its fur a rusty red.

Time passed.

The Bear lay still, listening to the clockwork hum of its soul, waiting for the end of the hour.

Tick Tock.

01:00:00

Once more, the world

shifted.

He exhaled - a sharp breath, like a bubble of air bursting upon the water's surface, the unfamiliar motion shocking him awake. His eyes flew open as he inhaled, loudly, shudderingly, gasping greedily at the air, mind reeling in wonder at how natural it seemed, how easily and unthinkingly his body took to this process. He held out a paw, only to find he had fingers, he used them to feel his face, eyes, nose, ears, mouth, all intact, all working. He pinched himself with his fingers. It hurt. That made him smile.

He felt a prick of pain. He looked down and found a teddy bear lying atop him. He removed the toy, ran newfound fingers over his chest, still feeling the sharp sting. There was something in him, something cold and small. He pulled it out. A needle.

Frowning, he got out of bed, needle in one hand, bear in the other. He stuck the needle into a half-made rag doll his sister had left on his desk. He looked at the bear, a sad brown thing, dull black eyes staring lifelessly back at him. Tenderly, he smoothed the bear's fur. Then, padding over to his closet, he took out a trash bag, labelled it "Donation", and systematically placed all of his toys inside it, beginning with the bear.

His heart pumped steadily away, blood infusing his arteries, feeding his cells. He worked in silence, listening to the low sure thump of his heartbeat as he packed away the toys of childhood.

He was a real boy now. There was no need for toys.

***

On the desk, the ragdoll lay, forgotten. Biding her time.

(End)