The Strange Story of...

The Strange Story of Mr. M (Part 2)

                        Dakota was weeping in her sleep again. Max knew exactly how she felt. Tina had been right about there being a monster in her closet, and they'd been too self-absorbed to realize it. Now the same "Mr. M" that had befriended Tina had taken her from them. Were they really bad parents?

                         ---

                         "One, two, three..." Katarina sat on the rock, counting. I never tried to hide exceptionally hard when the children and I played hide-and-go-seek together. I always left a tentacle sticking out, or had my horn show a bit. The children loved the game, especially Katarina.

                         I had the children call me "Mister M" because I had no real name. Or, rather, no name that they could easily say. One might call me a foster parent, because I temporarily take care of children whose parents, for whatever reason, can't do so. I've seen them in every possible form: parents who work too much and leave their children in the incompetent hands of others, parents who leave their children behind for hours or even days at a time, parents who refuse to listen... the list goes on.

                         I come into the rooms of these neglected children and play with them, befriend them. There are a number of ways I can enter. Usually I enter through the closet, as is the case with Katarina. Or I enter from under the bed, or from under the staircase, or even from the basement. Once, at the home of some wealthy, but still neglected, children, I entered through the swimming pool!

                         I play with them every night, and help them if they need it. Then, when the time is right, I ask if they would like to go with me to my home. At first, they are often hesitant, and say no. But, eventually, the parents do something that hurts the child more than ever, such as announcing a divorce, leaving for several days, or lecturing them for something they haven't done. Then, the child usually comes into the closet, under the bed, or even into the pool and begs me to help them. Which I do. I reach out my paw, grasp their hand, and bring them into my home.

                      Most children are surprised when they first see my dwelling. I light candles to see and hang them in colored glass lanterns so we can see. The colored glass throws color on the walls, and gives it a warm, happy glow. The walls are curved and made of rocks and dirt, for my home is a secret place hidden deep underground. I try to keep it clean, however, and try to fill it with things to keep my young friends warm and happy. Things such as board games, picture books, stuffed toys, blankets, and pillows that make the children feel happy and welcome.

                      "...99..." I was drawn back to reality by Katarina's counting. I heard a giggle and felt a small weight on my back. Christiana, another little girl, liked to hide with me whenever we played hide-and-go-seek. She was only five, and her parents often left her alone at night to pursue their own activities, thinking that if she's asleep, its alright to leave her alone. Before she came to stay with me, I left them a note stating that it was not.

                      "100! Ready or not, here I come!" Katarina jumped off the rock and twirled in a circle, like she always did at the beginning of the game. As I'd predicted, she saw my visible tentacle and touched it. "Found you!" she yelled.

                     "I'm afraid so," I said, acting depressed. "I'm afraid I'm not very good at this game." She gave me a hug, then looked at my mane and smiled wider.

                      "Found you, Christiana!" The little girl giggled, and laughed louder when I picked her up in my tentacle and set her on the ground.

                       The game continued, and Katarina found the other five children quickly. Then came the moment I'd been dreading all day. Young Louis, a boy in my care, was to go home.

                        Eventually, every child wonders what has happened in their respective homes. I will often return and check on the state of their families. Sometimes, I will notice with disgust that the parents have not changed their ways, or worse, don't even miss their child. But, other times, I find them crying for their missing child, and wishing aloud for them to return. That is when I realize that it's time for me to return one of my little friends.

                         The other children took turns hugging Louis, and a few tears were shed by the youngest of them. Louis was very brave; he simply hugged his friends good-bye, then grasped one of my tentacles. I gave him a gentle squeeze. Then I left my dwelling, and we were under his bed. His mother was sitting on it, and from our hiding place, could here her weeping.

                          I looked at Louis, and he looked at me. I had told him earlier that he would not be able to see me again after he was reunited with his parents. He had understood, and we had said our good-byes. I gestured for him to get out from under the bed, to go see his mother.

                         "Mommy?" He said this as he crawled out from under the bed.

                         "Louie!" I heard her joyful shriek, and saw her sweep him up into her arms. I saw her give him numerous hugs and kisses. And I knew then that Louis would be happy, that I had done my job. He looked at me one last time before I left. I gave him a small wave. I felt tears running down my face. Then I left.

                          I returned to my dwelling, and was greeted by many hugs and cheerful shrieks. I never regretted my work; a parent who mistreats their child doesn't deserve them, and I simply step in to show them that. I love children, and I will continue to do my job for as long as I can.

                          "Mr. M?" Katarina said, holding a folded piece of paper out to me. I took it, thinking she had drawn a picture. When I opened it, however, I saw instead a letter. From Katarina's parents. "This showed up after you left," she said.

                            Mr. M, 

                        We've learned our lesson. Please, give us our daughter back.

                            They had not signed it, but I knew it was them. Katarina had not read it. I could tell in the way that she looked quizzically at me. What she didn't know couldn't hurt her. "Time for bed," I told the children, folding the letter up and putting on the shelf. I blew out the candles, and the children each found a blanket and pillow. They found places to sleep, some together, some alone, and one by one fell asleep.

                           Then, when I was fully convinced that they were all asleep, I left the dwelling. Before making any decisions, I first had to do a little spying. With parents, one can never be sure. I entered Katarina's house through her closet, the way I always entered. Then I noiselessly crept down the hall.

---

                           Max jolted awake. He turned to look at Dakota. She'd turned on the bedside lamp, and was looking through the family photo albums. She was crying again. It was killing her, not being able to tell anyone about Tina. They'd told her school that they were on vacation, then that she was sick. Who would believe them if they said that a giant monster had taken their daughter from them?

                          He moved closer to his wife. She looked at him, then collapsed on him, a sobbing mess. He felt tears in his eyes, and offered his wife four words of consolation.

                          "I miss her, too."

                          Had the two not been crying, they might have seen a large creature leaning in their door frame, thinking about how he might soon have to say good-bye to another one of his young friends.