June 17, 2012

• Teddy’s Closet….

   

   

  

  A few years ago, after the release from the asylum….my son, Teddy, was finally able to tell me of his torments.

     

      Ted’s bedroom was decorated in a cowboy/transformer motif. The room was bordered in shelves crammed with spaceships, worn story books, action figures and plastic animals from every epoch and solar system. The floor space accommodated a bed with a Power Ranger spread, an old battered chest of retired toys, a small desk and chair that served both, as a cliff for action figures to do battle on, and, on occasion, for homework. There was also a closet in his bedroom that served two purposes. First….it was a repository for his clothes, shoes and any clutter that would not fit under his bed. Second….it was a dimensional portal for creatures that stalked the voids between the Jurassic period and galactic black holes.

      The creatures that once dwelled in the caverns burrowed under his bed, had long ago been defeated by the imposing barrier of 400 thread count sheets and a Zeo Gold Ranger bedspread shield. But, the CLOSET….was another domain. For years, the clawed omnivores waited nightly in hopes of Ted opening the sealed door and getting sucked in….all that would be left of my poor son’s legacy would be his picture on a milk carton.

      One night, Ted screamed like a tormented soul, but this time his mother had to come to his aid, as she and I were now in the bedlam of a divorce. He was gasping as he pointed to the closet. She became irritated with the young boy and went and jerked opened the door. She was quickly snatched in and as the door closed, there was the piercing sound of rending flesh and a single muffled scream. The following morning, I was taken away and committed to the asylum….after they pulled me bloodied and smiling from the same closet.

  
  

  • 12:58 am
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