The Troll Under My Bed
But, the night he came back, he was dressed like Tom Sawyer. We sat on the floor, in the light, and he told me stories, and we laughed and joked, and drank apple juice. Then, he told me he would not be back, but showed me where the trap door was. He told me how to open it if ever I was afraid.
Suddenly, new, and deadly monsters are lurking under my bed--Aids, Ebola, Mad Cow, Anthrax, Smallpox, Sarin, and Botulism. Captain Trips is vying to replace my harmless Troll. They, ALL of them, have invaded that secure place under my bed, which my childhood promised to me. Their indwelling, and exit is without thought, mercy, or compassion as they threaten to become my constant tormenter in today's ugly day of darkness, where flashlights are of no use.
"Oh, Mr. Troll, will I ever see you again?"
And there in the darkness, which he always favored, I saw him wearing a burgonet, and tightly holding closed the swelling hatch door on my tormenters, as he answered, "Perhaps again next year--then, perhaps never."
The picture of Big Troll was sent to me by my friend Jerri Brooker. Please visit her wonderful "Washington State" site.
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