Monster Under the Bed(Mike Phillips) Man, was that good spaghetti. Mom and Dad were gone tonight and she had said, "there is leftover spaghetti in the fridge for your supper. I want you in bed by ten and NO Horror Inc. tonight. You have Sunday school tomorrow and I don't want you falling asleep in class. Last time I got a call from sister Catharine about it. She said next time you would have to clean the halls in the school and I don't have time to come get you that late in the day. We should be home by one or two o'clock and the phone number for the Smiths is on the fridge. They are predicting storms tonight, so stay home. Call if you have trouble. Be good, love ya."

With that they left and of course the speech went in one ear and out the other. Freedom, lord high king of the house and ruler of all you could see. A Bottle of pop is called for to celebrate your newfound freedom and just not any kind will do. Digging deep into your pocket you find a dime and a nickel. Nuts, five cents short. The hunt begins.

Heading for the living room you lay out your strategy, fist the sofa. That’s always a good one because when people stretch out, change falls out of their pockets. Then the big chair followed by the couch on the front porch.

Rounding the corner of the fireplace you freeze. A thudding clunking noise in the basement....nothing, you think 'air in the pipes or something' and continue on your quest.

The sofa surrenders nothing so you proceed to the big chair, toss the cushion on the floor and dig deep into the hidden recesses in the sides and back. Pay dirt! you pull out a QUARTER. That means a pop AND a candy bar, YES! Just what a guy needs on a belly full of Ma's Spaghetti.

But that thought never crosses your mind. Out the back door you fly, screen door slamming behind you. Running full tilt, scrambling over the back yard fence and blasting into the office of the gas station next door.

Behind the counter Bill stands talking on the phone. Slapping a dime on the counter, you nod to him and he reaches into the display case and grabs a mounds bar and slides it to you. He takes the dime still talking on the phone and rings it up.

Turning to the pop machine you pull out the quarter and jack it into the slot. Shoving the mounds bar into your back pocket and pulling the metal framed door open with your left hand that funny refrigeration smell wafts out. Reaching in with your right hand, you grasp the neck of the bottle and pull. Out comes the thing that started you on this mission to celebrate your freedom and command of the castle this day. An ice cold bottle (not that crappy plastic you get today, Glass) of Frosty brand Root beer. A nickel drops into the change bin and you scoop it out and shove it into your pocket. Then you stick the bottle into the opener mounted in the front of the door of the machine and pop off the cap. Up to your mouth goes the bottle and you take a long pull. Gushing down your throat it is nirvana, carbonated, sweet bliss. Followed by a belch only a boy could appreciate.

Blasting out the door at mach three you head for the castle. Bill looks up and unseen by you he smiles thinking of the times he had done the same. Now weighed down by adult responsibilities he covets your freedom.

Approaching your launch pad at a dead sprint you leap onto the back porch clearing all the steps in one bound, grab the handle on the screen door and fly into the house, door slapping shut behind you with a loud crack. Stopping long enough to pull the half smashed candy bar from your back pocket, tearing the wrapper open with your teeth and tasting that funny kind of waxy plastic wrapper taste, and seizing a half with your teeth you chew and swallow in one motion. Another gulp of frosty and a good power belch (because here you rule and do what you want) you head for the living room and the TV set.

Kicking the chair cushion out of the way, and flopping onto the couch, not spilling a drop of the precious elixir of joy, you consider your options. Valley of the Dolls...nope, too stupid. Ben Hur...maybe, Gunsmoke...a winner. Getting up you suck down the last of the frosty and set the bottle down on the floor next to the couch. Walking over to the TV and turning it on, waiting for it too warm up you think, 'When are they ever going to figure out a way to run a TV so a guy doesn't have to get up every time you want to change channels'. Finally the set is warmed up and you tune it into Matt Dillon who is at this very moment Talking to Mrs. Kitty, (something inside you stirs at the sight of her, it feels weird, an awkward tightening,) you Hitch your pants and fly back to the couch. Dillon is now facing down the bad guy at the bar and thoughts of Mrs. Kitty fade. BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR......BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRB, you jump, BRR..BBBRUUP. What the heck?? must be air in the pipes again (you hope). It came from under the floor, Better check the basement. After all, you were left in charge right?

Opening the basement door you reach for the switch and flip it. Click, no light. Crap, bulb must be burnt out. You can smell the faint odor of fuel oil and dust. A musty dark kind of smell. Maybe a little metallic taste of fear in your mouth. You can hear Matt shooting it out with the bad guys and Festus yelling at Newt to watch out he's got a knife in his boot. A Big truck goes by on the highway and the house shakes. Outside you hear thunder. Lightning flashes and its light flickers in the basement, coming in through the windows built into the foundation of the house. CRUD. Down the stairs you proceed slowly. A friken vampire or werewolf would just love it down here you think. A huge crack of thunder and a blinding flash of light. Silence. The shootout on TV can not be heard. The kitchen light is out. It had been lighting the stairway. The power was out. DOUBLE CRUD WITH CHEESE. Thunder rumbled again. A brief flicker of lighting. Trying to swallow the lump in your throat, mouth dry, knowing there was a flashlight down by the furnace you proceed. Your mind won't listen as you tell it to not think of Frankenstein or the freaking mummy. You finally reach the furnace.

It looks like one of those furnaces on TV that the penguin is always trying to burn up Batman in. Last time the Cat Woman (again that funny feeling) had let Batman off the conveyer belt. Purring at him as she had clawed the ropes away.
Wonder what that was all about? Crud, girls were stupid. Grabbing the flashlight that was held on a pipe by a magnet and pushing the switch to on you are rewarded by a dim glow. Looking around and discovering a light bulb in a 4-pack (only 2 left now) you grab a chair and pull it under the light socket hanging in the middle of the basement by a wire. Hopping up onto the chair and holding the light between your cheek and shoulder you manage to get the bulb changed. The flashlight slips from your hold and hits the floor. Of course it stops working. Now in total blackness standing on the chair you hear something in the corner. At least you think you do. Scrtch..knt schrrnt....screeee like Dracula’s finger nails on the lid of his coffin...mouth dry, heart pounding, scrtck ....grzzzschr...CRUD! Trying to get off the chair without making a noise, must get to the stairs...BBBRRRRRRRRRRRRR..BRRRRRRRRRRR, guts feel like ice, starting to breath fast, BAM, thunder and lighting explode turning the basement into a momentary ball of light and noise. Now clenching your ass cheeks together (the pucker factor is now at 8.5). you run for the stairs in the darkness, Dracula hot on your heels, clawed hands reaching, baring his fangs. You hit the first fourth and eighth step in a dash for your very life and slam the door behind you.

Looking left and right for anything that would stop a vampire your brain locks on the crucifix on the dining room wall. Walking fast (not running because someone might see you) into the dining room you take the crucifix down and say a silent prayer thinking of sister Catharine.

All of the sudden out of the silence comes the sound of Matt Dillon thanking Festus for backing him up in the shootout. Thank god (and sister Catharine) the power had come back on. Pulling out the now totally mashed half melted candy bar from your back pocket, you peel it open the rest of the way and scrape the gooey coconut, chocolate gob off the wrapper with your teeth. relief. Stuffing the cross in your back pocket (something was in the basement and the boy scout motto went through your mind 'Be Prepared'.) The lights were on and the storm was moving off into the distance. Back to the TV.

Flipping through the channels looking for something to watch, Whoa, back two clicks and there is Marilyn Monroe with her skirt flying into the air and THEY ARE SHOWING IT ALL. THIS BEATS CAT WOMAN FOR SURE. This is all very confusing...crud. Girls are dumb. Turning the channel you stumble onto it, HORRER INCORPORATED. It's the part of the show where the squeaky door is opening.

Forgetting the command of your mother, you flop onto the couch and proceed to watch Dracula seduce women into letting him chew on their neck (Crud. Girls are dumb, but..something...itches....tight and itchy.) BRRRRRRRRRRRR... BRPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP. Blood runs cold in your vein’s. The shows over and it's midnight. Crud, if Mom finds out you are history. Up you jump knocking over the pop bottle in the flickering blue light from the TV set. Jumping out of your skin you realize what it was and try to laugh it off. Laughing out loud in an empty house sounds pretty weird and you decide not to do that again. Picking up the pop bottle and putting the cushion back in the chair, you head for bed hoping you can stay awake in school tomorrow.

Hanging the cross back up you wonder if it's a good idea or not, but mom would miss it and that would not be good. Climbing into bed you pause, scttch snkttt, something under the bed? NO FRIGGEN WAY ARE YOU GOING TO LOOK UNDER THE BED. you know something is under there just waiting for you to lean over and look underneath. It's got claws about six inches long, fangs that will pierce your juggler vein and will pull you under the bed were your lifeless body will be found the next day, blood drained with two puncture wounds in your neck.

Thunder rumbles outside your window and lightning flashes. You can hear that scraping under the bed again and the wind is really blowing now. Pulling the covers up over your head, an impermeable shield that no monster can breach is formed. It is the sacred blanket barrier. No monster has EVER been able to get through it.

The storm rages outside. You reach under your pillow for the weapon of last resort. Be prepared, enters your mind. A four battery metal flashlight snuck from dads car. It fits your hand well and you know no monster can withstand its awesome beam of light.

The rain is coming down in buckets. Thunder and lightning flash and rumble. Creak, your bedroom door opens. You know the noise, a hundred thousand times you have heard it. FRIGGEN CRUD. One under the bed and one coming in the door. You hear whispering, it's your name...FRIGGEN DOOM...again you hear it, you're not going to die on your back like a little girl, no sir, Matt would have none of it, Batman either. With a battle cry you fly from under the covers flashlight in hand, jumping wide to avoid attack from under the bed, AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH you scream at the top of your lungs, flipping the flashlight on to blast a million million photons of monster killing light into the darkness. You freeze. DOOM stands before you.

No monster killing light can stop the wrath of the figure standing before you. MOM! “SO, She says, Horror Inc again hugh? Chocolate on the crucifix...basement door wide open, pop bottle and candy wrappers...chair cushion upside down, dirty dishes in the sink. Is that your fathers flashlight? We had a flat on the way home. He had to change it in the dark while the rain soaked him to the skin. He is in the shower right now. And why is that chair in the middle of the basement?”

You think about diving under the bed to get away, they would be sorry then, the monster sounds like a much better fate than what mom has in store for you. Grabbing the flashlight she says, “into bed rite now, we'll discuss it in the morning.”

You dive under the covers and she shuts the door. Sealing up the monster barrier you wish tomorrow would never come. You hear the bedroom door open and after a moment close. That monster under the bed was tricky, maybe trying to lure you out. Unsealing the monster barrier just enough to peak out you can see in the flashes of lightning the metallic tube of dads flashlight. Reaching out fast you snatch it up and get back under the blankets fast. At last you drift off to sleep.

Mom's understand about monsters under the bed, the monster seal and the killing power of a flashlight.

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