Vigilance

The moon was full that night. White orb in the sky, with its luminescent glow illuminating nooks and corners of a street that was bathed in creepy darkness. Trees cast shadows over the cobbled street and toads and crickets added noise. Everything else was still, almost as if waiting for something to happen.

Expectancy chilled the air.

The street was named after an old ancestors. Someone you had faintly heard of, or knew someone who had. Someone who had at one point mattered to people, but no longer did. The houses on both sides were old, aristocratic and reminiscent of time long gone by.

A owl hooted.

A wolf howled.

A woman's muffled scream pierced the veil of silence.

A child with big blue eyes pushed his nose closer to the window. Air whooshed out of him, condensing on the cold glass. He raised a chubby hand, wiping the window to see better. His pajamas had little toy soldiers on them and an old teddy bear was tucked under one arm.

He sniffled.

His mother had promised him that there were no monsters in the closet or under his bed.

He didn't believe it.

Her acquiescence had been too easy. It was just like the time she reassured him that Santa did indeed exist. But that wasn't true. Because that year he'd caught his father trying on the fake Santa suit ten days before Christmas eve. He knew Santa was just a story. For kids.

Like him.

Which meant the absence of monsters was also a story. For kids.

Like him.

This time he wasn't going to take his parents word. This time he was going to make sure for himself. He was a grown up now, almost five. He could take care of himself.

He was going to make sure that the noise he heard was not a monster. He was going to prove it. And if it were a monster- well, he hadn't thought that far ahead yet.

Suddenly his will wavered.

What if it was a monster? What was he going to do? He was too little to fight.

There it was again.

That noise, he heard it again. It was coming from across the street. He peered closely, his nose pressing completely against the cold glass.

There. He saw it.

A big shape was moving in his neighbor's yard. Old Mrs. Brown lived in that house all alone. He stiffened, fear rooting him to the spot.

The shadow monster, because that is what it was, seemed seven feet tall. It couldn't possible be a man. A man didn't have a hump that big. The monster moved, his steps slow, measured. A strange rattling accompanied his every step.

Little Johnny was brave, but not brave enough to stay quietly in place when the monster started moving towards his house.

No siree. There was no shame in being a child.

And so Johnny let out a loud wail. He shoved his fingers inside his ear and shouted, loud and free.

His mommy would protect him. He just knew.

Three hours later the police walked up to the Potter's house. Mr. Potter sat at the dining table, a cup of coffee clutched in one hand. The officers asked him a few questions, routine mumbo jumbo. The officer snapped his notepad close.

"Your boy was wise to make all that noise. We've been looking for that thief for a while now. He attacks houses of older folks, knocks them out and carries out stuff in a bag on his back. That was probably the hump your boy kept referring to."

Mr. Potter nodded.

"Well thanks for calling the police immediately. You and your boy have been of immense help."

More nodding.

The Police officer rose to leave.

At the door he turned, facing Johnny who stood behind his mother's legs, peering shyly. The officer smiled, "Good work boy."

Johnny grinned.

"Stay vigilant. And don't let the bed bugs bite."  The officer smiled and left.

Johnny clutched his mother's legs. Bed bugs? With huge, glow in the dark eyes and sharp teeth?

"Mommy, can I sleep with you tonight?"