Sanctity by S. M. Bowles Page B

pizza arrived.  Everyone was hungry and as soon as
we were each served we all dug in.  “Michael,” I thought the
name softly to myself.  It didn’t happen often but whenever
either of my parents called Mr. Donovan by his first name I felt a
twinge of happiness surge through me.  It was like the name
had some secret significance to me and I could never recall what it
is. 
    We finished our dinner and paid our
check.  Once we were home my mother told me that it was later
than she thought and I should go ahead and get ready for bed. 
I was a little hesitant to try falling asleep on my own in the new
house so I went back downstairs afterwards.  My parents had
decided to put off any more work on the house until the next day
and were relaxing in the living room.  I wandered up to my mom
and asked if she would come sit with me for a bit. 
    “Of course, sweetie,” she answered.
    I led the way back to my bedroom and she
tucked me in. 
    “Would you like me to read you a story?”
    “No, not tonight.  Would you just keep
me company until I am sleepy?”
    “Sure.”
    She sat on the edge of the bed and took my
hand.  I smiled and whispered “Goodnight.”
    “Goodnight sweetheart.”
    It took a few more days for my parents to
get the house in order.  My dad went back to work that Monday
and I went back to school so my mom actually did most of it. 
She said she didn’t mind and that it was easier to get things done
when no one else was around.  By Wednesday she had managed to
find a place for all our belongings and to have made any final
adjustments as to the positioning of the furniture. 
    Not long after we were settled my parents
began encouraging me to go to bed without having one of them come
tuck me in.  I felt uncomfortable with the suggestion but they
said that I was getting older and sooner or later I would have to
get used to the idea.  The Thursday before my birthday they
insisted I give it a try.  I was reluctant but agreed since I
was feeling very grown up knowing that I was going to be 9 years
old the very next day.  My parents looked relieved when I
said Goodnight and scurried up the stairs and into my
room. 
    I closed my bedroom door all the way and
turned the closet light on.  Then I adjusted the door so that
there would be enough light to make out everything in my room and
crawled beneath the covers.  
    I was very nervous and I hoped that I would
fall asleep quickly.  I tried to keep my thoughts busy so I
wouldn’t be so worrisome while I fell asleep.  I imagined what
my party would be like and who would be there and thought about
what kinds of gifts I hoped to receive.  I wondered if I might
get breakfast in bed Friday morning or something special in my
lunch bag to wish me a Happy Birthday.  As I considered
those ideas and thought about cake and ice cream I blissfully fell
sound asleep.
    Hours later I suddenly had the sensation
that I was being lifted up and found myself wide awake and being
held too tightly.  I was not at all frightened though and
answered the hug with an enthusiastic one of my own.
     “Michael,” I buried my face in his
neck, “you’ve come back!”
    “Oh, I’ve missed you,” he whispered into my
hair.
    I didn’t know what to say, he had been out
of my thoughts for so long.  My memories rippled across my
mind as they always did whenever we were suddenly reunited.  I
was overwhelmed by the spectrum of my emotions.  I was happy
and sad and excited and curious and so on and on.
    “Happy Birthday,” he said.
    “It’s not until tomorrow,” I corrected.
    “Ah, but it is tomorrow,” I could feel his
smile against my cheek.  “It’s after midnight.”
    I pulled back and looked him in the eye, “Is
that why you came?”
    “Of course it is!”
    I wiggled to let him know to put me down, “I
need to see you,” I said as I crossed the floor to my closet. 
I opened the door to let some extra light into my room and whirled
about to examine him.