A short story that I didn’t include in Basement Tales, but still sends a little chill down my spine…a horror story for parents.
“You put him to bed tonight, sweet heart.” Linda pouted, passing frothing Tommy over to me from her moist chest.
I sighed, taking the little turd monster from her outstretched arms, “I remember when you used to fight me to be the one to do this.”
“And I will again.” she smiled, wiping at her chest- mostly late night spilled Weetabix, “Tomorrow. But after two years, I have to admit that some of the thrill has gone.”
“Where’s Bill gone?” Tommy asked, snapping awake from his doze and looking from me to her, his pale blue eyes piercing her with worry, concern, accusation, wind, who knew what? “Where’s Bill?”
Linda sniggered, and I nearly dropped him as I failed to stop from laughing. All ears and some vocabulary…
“Not Bill…Bill’s upstairs, waiting for you. Don’t worry Cave boy.”
Bill the Bunny. Hobbes to our freaky little boy’s Calvin.
“I thought he was out for the count. Honestly babe.” Linda said, and I almost believed her.