Ben's Hen

The Hamper Smells

Ben raced toward the back door. He shoved it open and stomped up the stairs. He slammed the door to his room and pushed his bed against it.

"Everything okay?" his mother called from the hallway.

"Just wanted to clean my room before the police search it."

"Get your underwear off the floor. Fold your socks. And, for goodness sake, put your dirty clothes in the hamper," his mother said. "Pretend you're human for one day, please."

Ben threw his into a pile and dumped it, unsorted, into the hamper. He scoured his room, searching for the cockatrice.

A peek from the hamper.

Ben jerked his head and squinted his eyes. "How'd you get in there?" He placed his hands on his hips. "Stay quiet until I can find a place to hide you."

The cockatrice whimpered.

"I'm serious." Ben scratched his head. "The first place they'll look is under the bed." He chewed his lip. "The closet? Behind my dresser?" He shook his head.

The cockatrice chirped.

"Shut up, will you?" Ben lifted the lid of his hamper and scowled at the tiny creature. "You need a place to hide."

The cockatrice buried itself deeper into his clothes.

Ben's eyes widened and he laughed. "Of course, it's perfect. Why didn't I think of that?"

The cockatrice unburied its snout and peered at him with one eye, raising the eye ridge.

"Hurry, get back under and stay quiet." Ben shut the hamper and moved his bed away from the door.

"Open up in there." The police officer knocked on the door.

Ben opened the door and grinned. "Problem, officer?"

"Stand aside, lad. I'll be thorough, but quick." The officer strode into the room. He peered under the bed. Threw open the closet doors. And moved the dresser aside. He opened drawers and flicked on lights. He tapped his lip with a finger.

"Satisfied, sir?" Ben asked.

"Almost." The officer walked to the hamper and lifted the lid.