A Bedtime Story
We all need a little magic sometimes
“Nanny Gail, tell me a story.”
“There was a little prince. His name was Neil, and he went walking in the forest one day.”
Neil raised a finger as if to press it to her lips.
“No, Nanny, it scares me. Tell me about a Nanny in the forest. A Nanny that beats all the monsters.”
His grandmother blushed.
“Oh, Neil, I cannot. I am too old to fight monsters. There are no monsters in the forest. I checked. Promise.”
“Did you go out to find monsters?”
“A long time ago, Neil. When your grandfather was still alive, he was in the hospital. He was very sick. I used to walk through the forest every day to go to visit him. Once I had to go at night. I could still see, but not very far in front of me. I wore my scarf and two coats. The wind howled through the trees as if the sky was angry. I could feel the branches staring at me, and all around were shadows, closing in. I was scared of the forest, Neil, just like you. I almost burst into tears, but I could not let the shadows see me cry. I would not let the night watch me suffer. I ran away as fast as I could, but when I got to the hospital, it was too late. Grandfather died. It was a monster I could not fight, Neil. I am so sorry.”
“No need to be sad, Nanny. No need to cry.”
“It is ok, Neil. I am sorry too. I did not want to frighten you. I went out last night; to try to protect you. Remember the silver tree you told me about before? That is Clarence, the guard tree of the forest. He growled at me when he saw my walking stick. I told him it was not one of his. The stick is of elm, for sorrow. The wind listened to me; then let me speak. The shadows watched, silent. I stared at them, as I tried to all those years before. I told them, Neil, that they were not going to take you away. You are safe with me. Last night I was brave. I had to be. I am not fast anymore; I cannot run away. You would have been so proud of me, Neil. Just remember, I love you.”
*
My Nanny Gail by Neil Barndon aged 5.
Nanny Gail takes me to school every day. She holds my hand to make me feel safe. Her silver hair is pretty. She says it shows her age. Her husband, Clarence, died before I was born. I like it when she tells me bedtime stories. Her voice is soft like she is hugging my ears.
*
When I was ten, I was not as scared of the dark as I used to be, but still disliked the forest. I think that is because Nanny Gail told me about the wolves she used to see there. She did not live with us anymore, though we visited sometimes. I always loved her stories.
I had few friends. I was unsure whether that is because the other boys made fun of me when Nanny Gail used to take me to school, or because they laughed at me when I cried after a dog chased me the first time I walked to school on my own.
Every morning before school, I told my reflection I am brave, but I was still scared.
I wanted to explore the forest and speak to Clarence, the guard tree Nanny Gail told me about in her story. I could not go alone, but my mum and dad would have thought I was crazy if I started talking to a tree.
A few weeks after my birthday, I woke up and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Looking out of the window on my way down the stairs, I could not see the family car outside. It was nine, and he was always home by then. I checked the house and saw that Mum and Dad were not at home. They had said nothing about going out. I told myself to be brave. Clarence would have the answers.
I felt like a man as I left the house, the wind patting me on the back as I marched up to the forest. Trees loomed large before me, but I strode up to Clarence, smiling, ready with a handful of questions. The first one did not come out the way I wanted.
“Where is Nanny, Clarence?”
A rising wind told me I should not be here, asking questions. I tried to remember the story. I had no stick of elm. In the fairytale, it was like magic, warding off the darkness. Keeping the wolves away, letting Clarence know she was a friend, someone to be protected. I was just an intruder, and Clarence appeared to leer at me as though ready to strike me with his branches.
Everything seemed to get darker, but I could still see Clarence, and hear the wind calling the wolves to surround me. My hands were cold, and I tried to move, but I remained convinced the wolves were coming. If I stayed where I was, I would be safe. One more step and they would pounce.
I stared at Clarence, but he refused to answer. I am not sure how long I waited, but I started to shiver as I heard something behind me. I closed my eyes, and I felt a tear slip down my cheek.
“NEIL! I was looking for you!”
“DADDY!”
“Neil, I was so frightened!”
I opened my eyes, and he was carrying me out of the forest.
“Daddies never get frightened. Little boys get frightened. Where is Nanny?”
I saw Daddy had been crying.
We went to the hospital. Dad held my hand as I said goodbye to Nanny Gail. I did not understand straight away, but what she had told me about Clarence and the monsters began to make sense a few years later.
That night in the hospital, I stopped believing in magic. I kept the stories, though. In the end, the magic is all we have.
