“What is this?” I asked when my brain refused to identify the black spot or the larger red blob.
“Payson gave me this,” Skylar said, and pointed at the blobs. “That’s the boogeyman. This is our house. He made the monster come here.”
A panicking Lyric immediately cried, “We need to retire the house!”
Hugging my girls, I dropped the drawing and made plans to talk to the teacher about bullying.
Boone picked up the paper and looked it over. “There’s something we can do to make the boogeyman go to Payson’s house instead.”
The girls focused on him in wide-eyed shock. Skylar choked out, “Really? Payson said he made the boogeyman come here.”
Boone shook his head casually. “No, he’s just a little kid. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. But I know a way to send the boogeyman to his house. Wait, did you tell this brat about the night lights?”
Skylar shook her head while I wiped her wet cheeks. “No, I never talk to him. He’s mean.”
“How does he know you’re scared of the boogeyman?” I asked Skylar.
“Another girl said a monster lived under her bed. That was the first week. I said the boogeyman hides in our closet. I never said anything to Payson. Why is he mean to me?”
“Because you’re cool, and he’s a loser,” Boone said calmly. “A kid bullied me in school. He had bad parents, and I had good ones. His big sister was also a bully, but my big sister took care of me. The kid was jealous.”
Skylar calmed down and looked at Lyric. “I have a nice house.”
Wiping her eyes, Lyric nodded. “This house is big. He’s jealous.”
“And you’re cool,” Boone told Skylar. “You aren’t boring like most kids. He wants to be like you. Since he can’t, he’s mean.”
Skylar exhaled deeply and looked around her room. “I don’t want the boogeyman to come here.”
“Well, this boy doesn’t know about the night lights, so we’ll send the boogeyman to his house. But don’t warn him. Don’t say anything, okay?”
The girls looked at Boone like he was brilliant. They trusted him completely. I did, too, so I didn’t ask questions when he had us walk outside with the candle lighter.
“Okay, you can only do this when grownups are around,” Boone said, standing next to the grill. “Fire is very dangerous. I knew a boy who burned down his house while playing with a lighter like this. Do you understand?”
The girls nodded instantly, watching him with faint smiles. Boone grinned at me like this was something he regularly did, and I shouldn’t worry.
“Well, the boy who colored this ugly picture left a part of himself on the paper,” Boone said and lifted the drawing over the grill. “He woke up the boogeyman by drawing the monster. So, we’re going to burn this paper and send the boogeyman to the bully. Are you ready?”
Stepping closer, I asked, “Should I take a picture of the drawing for when I talk to the teacher?”
“You can, but I don’t think the teacher needs to be involved,” Boone said, smiling softly at me. “This Payson brat is a small child like Skylar. I figure she can deal with the loser without involving teachers or the principal. And if the issue gets bigger, I’ll talk to the kids’ parents. That’s how we handled things in Rawlins, and my old bully learned to leave me alone.”
I glanced at the girls who waited to see my reaction. I’d been raised to follow the rules and complain about problems to the proper authorities. Even living in Baton Rouge, I never considered other solutions.
But the police hadn’t been the ones to find the man who shot me. Dan and the Black Rainbow hunted down the guy, and they certainly didn’t give him a trial.
“I don’t want the boogeyman coming here,” I said and smiled at my girls. “Let’s send the monster to the bully.”
The girls grinned at me. One day, they’d stop worrying about the boogeyman. I didn’t sense Boone was genuinely afraid of monsters. His mom was, though, and he learned to adjust to her thinking.
As a five-year-old’s drawing burned on the grill, I saw my life more clearly. For years, my hope to be normal had led to pain and disappointment. My dad was a serial killer. My dead husband was somewhere in the Mississippi River, put there by my criminal brother. I was living in another town controlled by a one-percent motorcycle club. And I was in love with a man who saw the world in a wonderfully weird way.
Shedding my good girl thinking might take a while, but I had a goal now. For too long, I had avoided asking myself tough questions.
My mom did the same thing. Rather than deal with her conflicted feelings over loving a bad man, Laverne kept bouncing from one substitute husband to another. The last one killed her with his reckless driving.
Dan hadn’t been able to deal with his feelings toward our parents, so he ran away. He and I were still twisted up from the past.
