Explorer nightlight doing little to banish
the deep midnight shadows that clung to the room.
“We’ve got to get you a brighter nightlight,”
I muttered, more to myself than Ashley. “I’m turning the big light
on, okay?”
“I’ll close my eyes,” she replied, her tiny
little voice growing a bit stronger.
“There we go. Goodbye darkness. Now,” I
began, moving her small form over and squeezing into the pink
ruffled twin bed with her, “do you want to talk about your bad
dream?” I steeled myself against the disappointment I knew was
coming when she would refuse to discuss the monsters that sometimes
ran through her dreams in the night. I was determined not to press
her to talk about it if she didn’t want to, but I couldn’t help but
feel the sharp sting of disappointment and the feelings of
helplessness that went along with that rejection. I was sure that
if we could just talk about the dreams, we could make them go away,
together. But as I was constantly forced to remind myself, Ashley
was her own person. Sometimes she was willing to talk about them,
but sometimes she preferred not to drag her fears out into the
open. Me forcing her to open up wouldn’t do anyone any good.
Tonight, however, was one of those rare nights when she chose to
open up a bit.
“I dreamed that Earl was chasing me through
the streets and I told him to leave me alone, but he wouldn’t so I
ran into the park to hide because he had his knife instead of his
gun and I’m really scared of knives,” she blurted in a mad rush,
pausing halfway through her account to take a breath.
“Okay.” I nodded, mentally struggling to keep
up with the child.
“So I ran into the park to hide because the
park has great big giant trees, and I was going to climb up one and
get away, but when I got to the park, all the trees were made of
water and they were see-through, and I couldn’t climb them because
they were all water. So I ran to the playground to hide in the big
yellow curly slide, but it was made of water too, everything was.
Even the swings,” she finished, turning fearful eyes to me.
“Oh, well see? Swings can’t be made of
water.”
“Yeah, and if I touched them they went ‘poof’
and all of the water just fell on the ground. Like a water balloon.
Only there was no balloon. Just the water in the shape of the
swings and slides.”
“Wow. Well, that proves it then, see? It was
definitely just a….” I stopped as the full weight of her words hit
me. “Ashley, did you say that Earl had a knife, but not his
gun?”
“Earl has a gun under his coat. Like the
cowboys on TV.”
“He was wearing it in a holster?”
“Uh-huh,” she nodded. “Can we watch TV in
your room? I want to watch SpongeBob.”
I fought to stay calm. “Ash, why didn’t you
tell me and your uncle that Earl was wearing his guns last
week?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Not last week. He
had them on yesterday.”
“Yest-yesterday?” I stammered.
“Yes. He was mad.”
“Mad? Ashley, honey, why didn’t you tell me
you saw him yesterday? It’s very important that you tell me these
things.”
“But you said not to talk to him and I
didn’t.”
“I also said to tell a grown-up right away if
you did see him, or if any other stranger tried to talk to
you.”
“Oh.”
“What happened yesterday?” I kept my tone
light so that she didn’t get scared and clam up.
“He was at school.”
“No one else saw him this time?”
“My teacher talked to him. And the other kids
did too. He’s gonna give us ribbons on Friday, but I don’t think
he’s gonna give me one because he’s mad at me.”
“Earl was inside your school? Are you
sure?”
“Yes. Are you sure he doesn’t know you? He’s
really mad. He tried to talk to me when my teacher had to go to the
office to answer the phone.”
“Your teacher had a telephone call and Earl
was in charge,” I repeated slowly, trying to piece everything
together. “She left him in charge of
the deep midnight shadows that clung to the room.
“We’ve got to get you a brighter nightlight,”
I muttered, more to myself than Ashley. “I’m turning the big light
on, okay?”
“I’ll close my eyes,” she replied, her tiny
little voice growing a bit stronger.
“There we go. Goodbye darkness. Now,” I
began, moving her small form over and squeezing into the pink
ruffled twin bed with her, “do you want to talk about your bad
dream?” I steeled myself against the disappointment I knew was
coming when she would refuse to discuss the monsters that sometimes
ran through her dreams in the night. I was determined not to press
her to talk about it if she didn’t want to, but I couldn’t help but
feel the sharp sting of disappointment and the feelings of
helplessness that went along with that rejection. I was sure that
if we could just talk about the dreams, we could make them go away,
together. But as I was constantly forced to remind myself, Ashley
was her own person. Sometimes she was willing to talk about them,
but sometimes she preferred not to drag her fears out into the
open. Me forcing her to open up wouldn’t do anyone any good.
Tonight, however, was one of those rare nights when she chose to
open up a bit.
“I dreamed that Earl was chasing me through
the streets and I told him to leave me alone, but he wouldn’t so I
ran into the park to hide because he had his knife instead of his
gun and I’m really scared of knives,” she blurted in a mad rush,
pausing halfway through her account to take a breath.
“Okay.” I nodded, mentally struggling to keep
up with the child.
“So I ran into the park to hide because the
park has great big giant trees, and I was going to climb up one and
get away, but when I got to the park, all the trees were made of
water and they were see-through, and I couldn’t climb them because
they were all water. So I ran to the playground to hide in the big
yellow curly slide, but it was made of water too, everything was.
Even the swings,” she finished, turning fearful eyes to me.
“Oh, well see? Swings can’t be made of
water.”
“Yeah, and if I touched them they went ‘poof’
and all of the water just fell on the ground. Like a water balloon.
Only there was no balloon. Just the water in the shape of the
swings and slides.”
“Wow. Well, that proves it then, see? It was
definitely just a….” I stopped as the full weight of her words hit
me. “Ashley, did you say that Earl had a knife, but not his
gun?”
“Earl has a gun under his coat. Like the
cowboys on TV.”
“He was wearing it in a holster?”
“Uh-huh,” she nodded. “Can we watch TV in
your room? I want to watch SpongeBob.”
I fought to stay calm. “Ash, why didn’t you
tell me and your uncle that Earl was wearing his guns last
week?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Not last week. He
had them on yesterday.”
“Yest-yesterday?” I stammered.
“Yes. He was mad.”
“Mad? Ashley, honey, why didn’t you tell me
you saw him yesterday? It’s very important that you tell me these
things.”
“But you said not to talk to him and I
didn’t.”
“I also said to tell a grown-up right away if
you did see him, or if any other stranger tried to talk to
you.”
“Oh.”
“What happened yesterday?” I kept my tone
light so that she didn’t get scared and clam up.
“He was at school.”
“No one else saw him this time?”
“My teacher talked to him. And the other kids
did too. He’s gonna give us ribbons on Friday, but I don’t think
he’s gonna give me one because he’s mad at me.”
“Earl was inside your school? Are you
sure?”
“Yes. Are you sure he doesn’t know you? He’s
really mad. He tried to talk to me when my teacher had to go to the
office to answer the phone.”
“Your teacher had a telephone call and Earl
was in charge,” I repeated slowly, trying to piece everything
together. “She left him in charge of
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