IV - Charlie
The
bear's lone button eye glinted in the last of the evening light as Charlie
placed it back down beside the others.
They were all in line now, his little army; standing tall, chests puffed
out, backs against the wall. He paced
in front of them, preparing to give them their orders, aware that enemy tanks
lay on the other side of his bed and that they would need to be ready. Some of them wouldn't make it, but his
squad, led by old one-eye, were the best there was and they were ready to make
sacrifices.
"You
know what needs to be done!" He
piped "The enemy aren't far away
and the battle will be tough!" His
bear squad stared at him blankly, but he knew they understood.
He
leapt onto his bed, peered over the other end of the duvet and saw the tanks
sitting there, waiting. He reached out
and then watched in fear and wonder as they began to trundle along in front of
his hands, making their way around the corner.
He looked back at the bears.
"Get
ready men! CHARGE!" He rolled onto the floor, one hand still
attached to a tank that had advanced ahead of the others, the other reaching
back to grab old one-eye and send him out onto the field, dodging shells which
exploded with the full force of imagination.
His room came alive with the sounds of the battlefield, the low roar of
the tanks, the shouts of the bears, the puff-cheeked white noise of each
explosion. One-eye made a mad dash
between explosions, leapt through the air in slow motion and then suddenly the
bedroom door flew open and one-eye was abandoned, lifeless once more, on the
floor. Charlie skittered away from his
toys and looked up wide-eyed and shaking.
"Charlie!"
his dad shouted. "What have I told
you about shutting the fuck up before bedtime?"
The
last rays of the evening vanished from the sky out the window. Only the light from the hall entered the
room, transforming his father into something made out of shadow and hate.
"I-
I'm sorry. I was just-"
"You
were just being a disobedient little shite as always!" He stepped forward and Charlie instinctively
curled himself into the corner.
"Tidy these toys up, get in your bed and go to fucking sleep. If I hear another word out of you-” He
raised his hand so that the shadow of it fell across Charlie's paling face.
The
boy nodded gravely, the father slammed the door shut and then the remains of
the battlefield, both real and imagined, was lit only by the crack of light
around the door.
And
then it too went out.
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