November Flash Tale #1 - "Twinkles"

Sunday Morning

Roaming Goat Coffee Shop, Columbus OH

“I can’t stand it,” says Steve. His honey latte is getting cold. His everything bagel might just be getting stale.

Cameron gives him an impatient look. “You keep on complaining, but you never do anything about it.”

“What can I do? There’s ten months left on the lease, I can’t move out, and I can’t give the guy a personality transplant either.”

“You really hate him that much?" Cameron sips his own coffee. “I tell you what, I’ve had worse roommates than Drew.”

“He’s so judgy. About everything I do. He’s only a couple years older and he acts like he’s my big brother or something.”

“So, tell him to butt out.”

“I tried! Man, he's picking on the time I get up, my Netflix list, my goddamn flossing technique.”

Cameron laughs. “So, he has opinions.”

“And now he says he can’t sleep, so if I make a sound at night, if I whisper, he’s knocking on the wall.”

Cameron looks his friend in the eye. “I think you’re just not comfortable sharing with a gay man.”

Steve looks incredulous. “I’m not homophobic.”

“I didn’t say you were- “

“I’m having coffee with you, aren’t I?” Steve holds up his hands. “Come on, I have lots of gay friends. I mean, you…you’re…” He shrugs. “Sometimes I think I’m a little queer myself.”

Cameron laughs. “News to me. You’ve never had a boyfriend.”

“We’re all on a spectrum, right?” Steve frowns. “Or is that autism?”

Cameron gives him a pitying look. “Oh, honey.”

Steve finally takes a bite of his bagel. “It’s not that Drew’s gay, it’s that he won’t stop telling me what to do. Help me out here. You’re the psychologist.”

Cameron smiles. “I do have something that might help.”

“At this point, I’ll try anything.”

“You got a little…cream cheese,” says Cameron, pointing.

Steve wipes his mouth with a napkin. “Come on, then. What you got?”

Tuesday Morning

“That’s full of sugar,” says Drew, picking up the cereal box.

“I have a sweet tooth,” Steve replies. He swallows a spoonful of Cocoa Krispies as well as his irritation. He asks, more curious than usual, “How’d you sleep?”

Drew puts the box back down and exhales. “A little better, maybe. Thanks for the music.”

“It works better if you give it a few nights,” says Steve. “Reinforcement thing, you know?”

Drew sits down at the table and raises an eyebrow. “This hypnotherapy. It’s not going to make me cluck like a chicken, is it?”

Steve laughs. “Course not. Just meant to help you sleep.” He smiles. “Get you waking up and ready to take on the world.” And leave me alone at the same time.

Drew sighs. “I’ll give it another try.” He gets to his feet. “You might not have noticed, but without a good night’s sleep, I can get a little fussy.”

Wednesday Evening

“We’re gonna have to do something about your diet.”

Steve looks up from his pizza. “Excuse me?”

“High fat, high salt.” Drew looks at the carboard tray with disdain. “Don’t know how you stay so skinny.”

Steve doesn’t trust himself to reply without blowing up, so he chews on a slice of pepperoni and then asks “How’s the sleeping?”

Drew replies, “Better. Definitely better.” He frowns. “But I wake up and I feel…I don’t know, kind of edgy. Anxious. Like I’m forgot something or lost something.” And then he waves the issue away. “Probably just the world we live in, right? Everything’s going to hell.”

Thursday Lunchtime

Northstar Café

“Thanks for nothing,” says Steve tersely.

“It’s not a miracle cure,” Cameron replies, “and it’s not overnight.”

“I get that, but it’s getting worse!”

Cameron rolls his eyes.

“I’m serious. He asked me to go for a walk with him this morning. Said the fresh air would do me good. Said I didn’t take enough exercise.”

“Do you?”

Steve huffs. “Not the point.”

“But he’s sleeping more,” says Cameron.

“So he says.” Steve wants to finish lunch with a donut or pastry. He waves for the server and watches as he’s ignored. Nothing’s efficient these days. Nobody wants to do the work.

Cameron gives a little shrug. “Maybe you should try the music as well.”

Steve stares at him. “Huh? You said you designed it specifically for Drew.”

“It’s about a shift in mindset. Could work wonders for anyone. And you’re looking a little dark under the eyes, my friend.”

Thursday Night

Steve isn’t about to fall asleep to a hypnotherapy track. But he’s curious all the same. What’s the message Drew’s been getting? What’s the so-called shift in mindset?

He lies in bed with earbuds, sets the music to play for 10 seconds.

And it’s nothing.

He plays it again.

Nothing.

No. Hang on…

It’s something. Barely audible. What is that? Not a voice, not Cameron droning on and telling Drew to leave his poor roommate alone.

It’s a…twinkling.

Like someone’s playing a triangle. Or maybe one of those…Steve tries to picture the instrument. What’s it called? A glockenspiel? The word sounds weird, it sounds made-up.

He listens again.

Okay, maybe it’s a xylophone.

He blinks. What’s the difference? Either way, it’s the lightest of melodies, so soft he has to strain his ears to make out the notes. He has to listen incredibly carefully. And ten seconds isn’t enough. Ten seconds is just the first line of this story.

Story?

Steve turns off the timer on the phone. He taps play. And then he listens.

There are the twinkles. All the twinkles. Whatever the instrument is, with wooden bars or aluminum, Steve understands that this is indeed music for sleeping.

Because it’s a lullaby.

A lullaby for a baby?

Eyes closed, Steve is able to answer that question.

It’s not for a baby. It’s for a boy.

He smiles in the dark. Music for a naughty little boy. A silly, naughty boy who has lost something, who is missing something important.

This is big news. This is the headline.

Steve wakes up. It feels much later. The music isn’t playing but he feels an echo in his ears. He pulls out his earbuds and the echo remains. The twinkles are sticking around.

The dumb glocken…xylo-whatever. It’s filled up his ears and head with the story. A story all about him.

And Steve is scared.

The feeling makes him sure that he is going to be sick, or maybe he is going to wet the bed.

He is grateful for the lamp on the dresser, until he starts to see shadows. Until he imagines monsters.

And at the end of it all, Steve wonders, what is lurking, hiding, drooling in his closet or under the bed?

The twinkles echo in his mind. They are insistent.

He runs to the bedroom door, creeps along the hallway, and stands outside Drew’s bedroom.

Steve doesn’t question why, after a deep breath, after understanding that he’s not going to throw up or lose control of his bladder, that he opens the door and walks to the side of Drew’s bed.

He stands and watches his sleeping roommate. And this will be weird, this will be outrageous. What will he say to explain this?

Intruder alert? Kitchen fire?

No. Steve stays by the side of the bed. He holds his hands in front of him, playing with his fingers. He can think of lots of reasons to wake Drew up. Plenty of good excuses.

I need a glass of water.

I had a bad dream.

My tummy hurts.

Drew opens his eyes. He doesn’t seem surprised to see Steve. “Hey buddy, what’s up?”

Steve purses his lips. “I scared.”

Drew nods. He lifts the comforter. “Come on,” he says gently. And this doesn’t sound strange. It sounds like something better, something found.

The twinkles agree. They are sweeter, they are pleased.

Steve climbs into bed and feels his body relax under the covers, Drew’s arms around him.

They cuddle, Drew stroking Steve’s hair. “There you are. There’s my good boy. I was wondering where you were.”

“Mmm,” Steve says. He agrees around his thumb.

“Daddy’s got you,” says Drew. “Nothing to be scared of.”

Steve sighs, his mind relaxing to match his body. No monsters, nothing hiding under the bed. Just twinkles. Just being held and cared for.

“Go to sleep,” Drew says. “Sweet dreams.”

And Steve does as he’s told.

THE END

Steve's psychology friend provides music to hypnotize his annoying roommate, but why is the music a lullaby? - Dean