Bunkbeds

Like most boys who shared a bedroom, we had bunkbeds. Just like Wally and the Beaver. During the summer our beds were side by side, so we'd be cooler. My bed was in the corner underneath the windows, one side against the wall. Carl's bed was out towards the center of the room, nearest the closet with all its dark secrets. In the winter the beds were moved to the corner opposite my summer position and stacked one on top of the other. I was the oldest, so I got the top bunk. A small wooden slat was the only thing between me and the hardwood floor below, but I felt a lot safer up there; close to the ceiling and the wall to my left, the closet farther away and on the other side of the room. Carl was the youngest, and he had a bed wetting problem, so he'd have to settle for the bottom bunk for now.
Carl was four years old. He was not exactly what I expected in a little brother. Carl liked to get into things. Things like cupboards and climbing shelves and the insides of toys. He liked to take things apart, and after he was finished taking stuff apart he would lose interest in whatever it was and just leave a pile of junk behind. To my horror he would inherit my green Rixe bike, but somehow it survived him and moved on to my sister.
I had to mark the boxes my toys came in with warnings: Do Not Touch,Or Else! and Keep Your Hands Off-This Means You! If I hadn't I wouldn't still have my Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots or my Remco Barracuda Submarine.They'd be bits and pieces in some landfill now. Left to his own devices he probably would have dismantled the family car.
Punishment never seemed to faze him either. Oh sure he would cry when he got a spanking, and he certainly had the fear of Dad's hand across his rump, but it never took hold of him like it did with me. I went out of my way to be good, but Carl was intent on raising holy hell, finding trouble whenever he could.
As I've said placing him in the hall closet never worked. Carl liked dark places, and his refusal to come out of there exasperated Mom even more. He had his curly blond hair tweaked so many times it's a miracle he didn't develop a bald spot.
Carl really let me down at night, in our room, when it was dark and I needed him the most. He was always able to drift right off, without a care in the world. He liked the dark and it lulled him to sleep like the poppies in The Wizard of Oz.
I on the other hand always had trouble getting to sleep. I had too much on my mind, like school and what was on TV and what I was going to do the next day,and how pretty Sheila McLaughlin was, and yes,yes I'll admit it, I was afraid of the dark. Something in my brain had me convinced that horrible things were going to happen at night when the lights were all out. It didn't matter that I was safe in my own home with my parents and my dog, and forget about my brother, he was sleeping! I was counting on him to band together with me and defeat the horrible creature that lurked in our closet at night. But not him, no he was too busy counting sheep.
I devised ways of waking him up whenever my fears got the better of me and I just couldn't get to sleep. When our beds were side by side, I'd reach over and grab the corner of his blanket and slowly pull it off him. Little by little, inch by inch I'd pull until he woke up from the movement of the covers. He'd sit up, gather the sheet and the blanket back over himself and begin the drift back to sleep. Sometimes that would be enough for me, and I'd be able to relax enough to finally get to sleep. Some nights two or three times, and sometimes just for fun. When the bunks were stacked, I had to be a little more creative. I'd take a sock to bed with me, and I'd lean down as far as I could and tickle him on the tip of his nose. I had to be fast and subtle, and careful, or else I'd knock the safety bar down and wake everybody up. Some nights he wouldn't wake up no matter what I did.
I never told Carl about the creature in our bedroom closet. I didn't think I had to. I mean wasn't it obvious? Horrible creatures came out in the dark of night. Witches and ghosts and headless horsemen and goblins and all sorts of mean and nasty things. All kids knew that, right?
Not Carl.
He just didn't seem to care.
I guess it's better I didn't tell him about the creature in the closet.
He probably would have gone in there and slept with it.