The Monster From My Closet
I lean my head slightly out of the window as my Uber drives down the quiet suburban street. He gradually slows down as he gets closer to our destination and he reads the address numbers on each mailbox and above each garage door. When I close my eyes and feel the soft breeze running through my hair, I can pretend I’m riding my bike down the street with my friends like I used to when I lived here.
Such simple times. I miss them.
Finally, the car begins to go to a crawl, at most a house or two away. Sitting back straight in my seat, I reach over and pull my phone out of my pocket before grabbing the small tote bag on the seat beside me. Placing it on my lap and unzipping it, I find exactly what needs to be in there: a black sharpie and two hardcover copies of The Monster From My Closet.
With perfect timing, my ride stops beside the concrete driveway of a house that’s simultaneously all too familiar to me and one I’ve never seen before. It’s the same two-story bungalow that I grew up in years and years ago, but its light-gray exterior with the sand-beige roof has now been replaced by a forest-green home with darker-gray tiles. Still, no matter what color it’s painted, this was still my place, and I can still remember each window and whose room it belonged to once upon a time.
“Sir?” my driver shyly inquires. “We’ve arrived?”
“Right! My apologies.” Realizing how long I’ve been sitting here, I snatch my phone with my hand holding my bag, allowing myself to use my now free hand to open the door. “Thanks for the lift.”
“No problem, sir. Have a great rest of your day.”
Stepping outside, I close the door and walk up the driveway, twisting around to wave my driver farewell as he slowly pulls away and drives off to search for his next passenger. Before going further, I stop and be sure to officially conclude my ride with an obligatory 5-star rating and a $20 tip. Putting my phone back into my pocket, I can now take the time to stand in the spot where I used to shoot hoops with dad most nights before dinner. Looking back toward the street, I spot the other houses across the road and remember which of my friends lived in them. I can only wonder if their families have moved like mine did or if they still live there.
In either case, my business is here at my old house. I stroll onto the pathway leading up to the porch steps, hop up each one by two, and make for the front door at the same, brisk, but leisurely pace. Standing firmly on the welcome mat, I press my finger into the small doorbell, which I hear ring behind the walls. Following it immediately after is the loud shrill yapping of a dog, and as I wait for its owner to heed their pet’s excited cries, I hike my bag up onto my shoulder, wanting to appear as presentable as possible to my host.
From behind the glass of the storm door, I see as the front door opens up toward the inside, revealing both a slightly-overweight middle-aged woman and her goldendoodle puppy standing on its hind legs as it tries to push open the final barrier separating me from it. Finally, the woman pushes the storm door open just enough to let her dog outside onto the porch. As it circles me, sniffs me, and jumps its front paws on my pants to get as much of my attention as possible, the woman is quick to scoop it up in her arms and back away, propping the door open with her body.
“So sorry about that!” she giggles, and I smile, ensuring my lack of offense. “She’s still getting used to welcoming people.”
“No worries.” I fan the air between us to further prove that her dog’s behavior was not a problem by me. “My parents’ dogs would always do that to people, especially us.”
“Still, we’re trying to get her to be less hyper at guests, but please, come on in!”
Stepping back into her house, I hold the storm door open for myself and follow her inside. While I could say that I still mostly recognized my house from the outside, even with its current paintjob, the same could not be said for the inside. Even with the different types and style of furniture notwithstanding, it was all arranged in a way that each room looked entirely unfamiliar to the ones I remember.
“So,” she asks me, “feels nice to be home again, doesn’t it?”
I push these mildly troubling thoughts behind me. “It does. I really do like what you’ve done here, though.”
“Why, thanks! Oh, my apologies!” She puts her dog back down and it now chooses to sit patiently by her side. “I’m Ellen.”
We both reach for each others’ outstretching hands and give hers a firm shake. “Jay Jepsen.”
“Oh, I know exactly who you are! You’re making quite the rounds around town, you know that?”
“Well,” I reply with an open-arm shrug, “everyone loves a hometown hero.”
“Are you hungry or thirsty at all? I’ve made Arnold Palmer!”
I force a smile to mask my frown; I was hoping to impose on her hospitality as little as possible, but if she’s offering… “I’m not very hungry, but yes, I think I’ll take you up on that drink.”
Happy to be of service, Ellen bounces on her turn-around and leads both her dog and I toward the hallway where the kitchen was and still is. Looking left and right on both walls beside me, I see pictures of her family where photos of my own used to hang. By the time I step into the kitchen, Ellen has already placed a rather large glass on the island counter and is heading to the fridge.
I breathe a relaxed sigh; once again, different color, and the dishwasher, fridge, and oven look far newer and sleeker than the ones my parents owned here, but they were in the same place in this kitchen as ours were. Hearing liquid poured into the glass from a pitcher behind me, I humor Ellen once again and allow her to hand me a nearly overflowing glass of amber lemonade and tea mixture.
Ellen then puts the pitcher back as she strikes up conversation. “So, any big plans before your big celebration? Still have friends and family down here?”
I take a small sip of my drink that I can easily swallow so as to better the pace of our talk. “Yeah, a few. More friends than family, definitely. May take a night on the town for old times sake. You don’t know if the bowling alley’s still up, do you?”
Her eyes widen, almost shocked that I’d even ask such a thing. “As a matter of fact, they just renovated it earlier this year. Haven’t been myself, but it’s a pretty popular spot now. Good thing too, because it came really close to going under last year.”
I smile weakly; I can only wonder how much of that will have changed now too. “That’s good. Any… Most of my family that’s still here are in the neighboring towns, but I arranged for them and my to come for the key ceremony, and I’m treating them to Benson’s afterward.”
“Ooh, fancy! You’ve been there before?”
“Not since I moved. Even then, it was only once. It’s not like my parents could just drop a couple hundred on a nice steak dinner every weekend, but I figure that a special occasion calls for a special meal.”
It’s then that there’s a small pause as she peers at my bag that I still haven’t removed from my shoulder. “I’m sorry, would you like me to put that somewhere, or…”
“Nah, it’s alright. Actually, that reminds me!”
Unzipping my bag, I take out a copy of my book and walk over to hand it to her. She looks tickled as she picks the book up, admiring the illustration on its front cover. Upon it, a little boy is sitting cross-legged on his bed in front of an open book while his back is snuggled against a large, slender monster with brown fur and a grey equine head as it is comfortably read to by the child. Arced over the two of them is the title: The Monster From My Closet. Etched beneath the book on the bed in bright gold letters is my name along with “Illustrations by Bryce Jepsen.”
“I figure it’d be a nice conversation starter,” I explain. “Tell your friends and family that yours is the house this book is set in.”
She then thumbs through the book, peaking at each drawing for a few moments before skipping ahead to the next one. Though I’ve read through this book countless times, it never gets old seeing the story play out through the drawings, even as quickly as Ellen is right now. She especially seems to enjoy the parts where the kid and the monster shrink down and fly around the room or the two of them playing Parcheesi with the animal-shaped pieces moving around as if they were alive. Seeing her find amusement in a book she’d have outgrown decades ago fills me with great joy, and I find myself laughing alongside her.
“These pictures are just wonderful,” she exclaims. “Your wife really did all these?”
I nod. “Every one. I’d like to say that it all comes from a great imagination such as mine…” I tap my forehead at this statement, “but she… she really outdid herself with these.”
“Mmhm! It’s a real shame she couldn’t be here with you today; would have loved to have met her.”
I frown and nod in complete agreement with her. “I mean, she’s not just my illustrator either, and she had a sudden deadline on another book that she needed to get done. I do hope to take her back when both of our schedules are clear.”
“Well, you’re both welcome any time, Mr. Jepsen.”
“Thanks, and please, call me Jay!”
Ellen giggles, flattered, but quickly settles down so as to try and continue being polite and accommodating. “Well, if there’s any other part of the house you’d like to see, just let me know.”
I smile as I look up to the ceiling, right around where I’m looking for would be. “Yeah, as a matter of fact, I’d like to spend a little time up in my old bedroom, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Oh, not at all! Follow me–” She practically hops toward the stairs, but then steps away to clear a path for me. “Oh, how silly of me, you probably know exactly where to go!”
I stay still, a little confused. “Are you sure you don’t want to come up with me? I mean, it’s still your house after all.”
“It’s perfectly alright, Jay. I’m sure you’d much prefer taking in all that nostalgia in peace without me shadowing you. Although, if it’s not too much trouble, could you show me around a little? You know, show me where all the magic happened?”
I feel myself smile a bit more earnestly than I have since coming in; the level of her accommodating nature is just adorable. “Of course. Like I said, it’s your house after all!”
“Oh, goody! After you!”
Motioning her arm upwards, she allows me to go up first as I slowly take each step one at a time to allow her time to catch up. Muscle memory begins to partially guide me back as I turn a corner and head up a smaller set of stairs with another sharp turn at the top up to the second floor. With the first doors to my left and right being my dad’s home office and a closet where we used to store our towels, I keep my eyes locked on the next left door up.
My bedroom. Where the magic happened.
Opening the door, I step inside, moving toward the center to let Ellen in as well. Of all the changes I’ve seen done to this house, this one hits me the hardest. Once a room whose walls were covered in posters of my favorite video games, tv shows, and bands were now mostly bare. The old wooden single bed dressed up with covers was now made by Ikea and had a blue, grey, and white comforter folded up at the end of the mattress with a stack of pillows on the other end.
I then walk toward the closet, finding nothing more than about a dozen hangers on the rack inside. This space used to be a treasure trove of my favorite toys and games, along with some formalwear that I only wore when my mom deemed it appropriate. To see it so barren like this nearly breaks my heart, and whether my silence or body language is telling her this, Ellen reaches to me.
“Jay? Is everything alright?”
Remembering the “tour” I had promised her, I snap out of my melancholy and turn to her. “Yeah, it’s just…”
“Pretty drab, right?” She says this as if the design was intentional. “I mean, it’s just my husband and I who live here now, so we figured it’d be best to turn this into a guest bedroom.”
Suddenly, the relative lifelessness of the room was a bit easier to take in. “Nice. Do… you get guests often?”
“My daughter’s in college now. We moved here shortly after she left; just wasn’t quite the same without her, you know? Anyways, she stays here during breaks or if she just feels like visiting over a weekend.”
I nod. “Where’s she studying?”
“Columbia, getting her medical degree, but please, enough about us, tell me about the room!”
“Ah, so… well…” I walk up to the bed and wave my arm around it to show it off. “Yeah, that’s where my bed was. As a matter of fact, a lot of the stuff in here is like how it was in my old room.” I then point to the walls to the left and right of the closet where a black dresser and empty black bookshelf are. “Dresser and bookshelf were switched actually.”
I then point to a gap in between the foot of the bed and a corner of wall jutting out from the right. “I had a TV right there where I could play video games or watch TV…”
I then look over to see how invested she is, and she still has the open book in her hand, but she frequently glances over from the book to the interior of the room. “It’s incredible. This really is the room, isn’t it? Same closet, same size, everything!”
“Like I said, between my memory and my wife’s drawing skills, we make a killer duo.” I then step toward the closet, and she follows me there. “And yep, this here is where my monster lived.”
“Oh, wow!” Ellen can’t help but look inside as if there’s something beyond this “exibit” other than her own closet. “I’m curious. What was your inspiration for the monster?”
Strangely, I’m caught off guard by this question. “My… inspiration, I…” I then smile sweetly to her. “...actually had a monster in my closet. He was very real and he was very pally!”
She’s quick to giggle loudly at this and I join her. It feels weird lying to her. “No, come on, it can’t be that big a secret, can it? Tell me, was it a pet of yours that got stuck in there on night, or maybe a coat or a pair of pants that fell off the hanger in the middle of the night?”
I scratch the back of my neck, feeling uncomfortable with what I’m about to tell her. “I… obviously don’t tell people, the kids especially, during the book tours, but when I was a kid, my dad hung some of his stuff in my closet that wouldn’t fit in his. One of them was this really nice brown bomber jacket with a grey hoodie. As you guessed, one night, it slipped off the hanger and fell partly out of the closet.
“Obviously, I’m terrified and I called for my parents, but my dad showed me the jacket to show it wasn’t anything to be scared of. It was… the first time I saw the jacket, and I really liked it. It didn’t fit my dad anymore, so when I was old and big enough to fit it, I wore it myself. When it finally got worn down for good, it made me remember how I discovered the jacket in the first place. So I decided to write a story about a kid who finds that the scary monster in his closet was actually really cool and how they become old friends. Thought it seemed nice.” It honestly feels good to get it off my chest.
“It certainly is,” she replies, “and don’t worry Jay, my lips are sealed. I certainly wouldn’t want to spoil the fun for your readers.”
“I… appreciate that. Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” She then backs away toward the door. “Feel free to stick around if you like. I’m going to do some yard work in the back if you need anything.”
“You… you sure? You don’t mind me hanging out in your house by myself?”
“You clearly have a lot of fondness for this place. I trust that you’ll take just as good care of it as if it were still your own.”
I put my arms out a bit with a bow of my head in a grateful gesture. “Thank you, Ellen. This house is very fortunate to be lived in by such a kind owner.”
“Stop it, you, I’m happy to let you be happy. Anyways, if you still need me, I’ll be outside.”
“Thanks again!” I call with a wave before she slips around the doorway and disappears.
With only me, myself, and I inside the room now, I slink over to the door as I hear Ellen’s footsteps go down the stairs. When I’m certain that she’s back on the first floor, I twist the doorknob and slowly push it completely close before I gently let the knob spring itself back into position. For good measure, I tug on the door a bit to make sure the door has actually closed, and with that, I return to the closet.
Slipping my bag off my arm, I sit down cross-legged in front of the open doors with my bag resting against my knee. I close my eyes and give Ellen a few more minutes in case she’s still inside the house. I honestly don’t know what would happen if she walked in on this little secret of mine.
As a matter of fact, I don’t even know if this will work. It’s been so long since we’ve last seen each other. What if he’s forgotten me? What if he doesn’t remember the way back? These are all questions I’ve been asking myself long before I even planned my trip out here, but it seems silly asking them now when I’m sitting right in front of his front door, so to speak. I certainly hope neither are the case. With a deep breath, I gather all the words in my head and ball up my fists.
Time to make the call.
“Who’s the big draconequus
who’s fun enough for both of us?”
I knock on the floor in a specific rhythm that I still remember better than any song I’ve ever heard on the radio. Stopping, I wait for any kind of sign that any part of my call was answered. At this point, the only one I can expect to hear from would be Ellen asking me what the banging’s all about. After several seconds, I can rest knowing that she’s likely outside and cannot hear me anymore. With that, I repeat my singsongy call.
“Who’s the big draconequus
who’s fun enough for both of us?”
I play my beat upon the floor once more, this time a bit louder and with more confidence. With bated breath, I now wait for something other than Ellen to respond. In our heyday, it only took the one call for him to do the next part of our call-response, but it’s been a while and he’s probably rusty. I’m willing to give this five more minutes before I’m willing to settle that he’s not available… for whatever reason. No time to give up hope now.
“Who’s the big draconequus
who’s fun enough for both of us?”
Another set of well-timed knocks, still nothing. I’m not sure if it’s because of my impatience or my anticipation of possibly getting to see him again, but I’m genuinely getting worried now.
“Who’s the big draconequus
who’s fun–”
*TINGGGTLNGLNGLNGLNG*
My body tenses up and I look in the direction of the closet, finding one of the hangers clattering to a flat stop inside the closet. I didn’t even notice anything and I looked down for just one second. Either way, there’s no way that a hanger could just fall off like that. It has to be him.
Pushing my bag away, I crawl to inside the closet and hover over the fallen hanger before swinging up to my knees and picking it up. I observe it closely; he’s capable of all kinds of goofy stuff. Maybe he planned on disguising himself as the hanger and then turning into himself with his entire weight suddenly upon me.
No, too obvious for him.
Just then, I realize that I’m practically cornered in the closet with the rest of the room behind me for him to pop out in. At this exact moment of awareness, the room darkens a bit as the shadow of a large creature rises up behind me. My first instinct is fear, hoping that it’s not Ellen watching me try to summon something inside her house. However, my anxieties are quickly sated when I feel a lion’s paw and a large, raptor-like talon slip around both sides of my face and softly cover my eyes.
“Who’s the little boy,
who fills his heart with lots of joy?”
I sob out a laugh to hear the voice of someone that I never thought I would ever hear again. I spin around and look into the goofy, grey-furred, snagglefanged face of my best childhood friend. It takes him a minute to recognize me nearly 20 years older than before, but the second he does, his face lights up, and mine does too.
“Discord!”
With my legs already folded in, I quickly bound at my good friend and tackle him to the ground, wrapping my arms and legs around his slender brown body, his blue-feathered wing and his purple bat wing stretching out across the floor to keep from getting caught beneath us. Hearing him laugh at both the sound of my voice and to be in my embrace only makes me grip him tighter, each moment reminding me just how much I missed him.
“Jayjay!” He picks me up off of him and holds me above him to get a better look at the newer, older me. “I can’t believe it’s really you! Just look how big you’ve gotten! How old are you now? 40? 50? If not, you clean up good for 60!”
He throws me back into himself, satisfied with what he’s seen and ready for more hugs.
“Oh, come on,” I guffaw, “I still have a good 30 years before I need to worry about getting that old!”
We both share a hearty chortle as I roll off of him and onto my back beside him. I could stay like this for hours and still be content, but I’m certain that he wouldn’t be. I sit up and look into his face as he sits up himself before slithering around and pushes his eyes near mine.
“And just whatever are you doing back here? I thought you mov–” Discord gasps, stretching thin like a pencil to exaggerate the brilliance of his own realization. “Don’t tell me! You scared the new owners away and took it back for yourself!”
I chuckle again, but more half-heartedly; Amy certainly doesn’t deserve that. “Nah, I’m actually–”
“Oh, so you bought it back and you’re moving back in?” He blows a raspberry with his lips as his expression sinks. “Well that’s certainly not as fun… but I’ll take it!” He then coils around my waist and torso before hugging his body and, by extension, me. “In all sincerity though, it is just wonderful to see you again, Jayjay!”
I forcefully slip my arms out between two parts of his body and firmly pat them, indicating both my shared happiness as well as his need to unwrap himself before I suffocate. He does so, allowing me to gulp for air.
“It’s…” I take a few more breaths until I’m certain I can talk normally again. “It’s really good to see you too, Discord. And as much as I’d like today to be a happy one, I have to say that… I didn’t buy this house either.”
He reels back slightly at this statement. “But, I mean, you’re here! In your bedroom, no less! Whatever reason could you have for coming back?”
I chuckle, a nostalgic fondness filling my giggles as I reach into my coat pocket. “Come on, buddy, do I really need some big excuse to see an old friend? But, tell you what, why don’t we catch up over a round or two of…” Discord’s eyes begin to widen. He didn’t even need to see the box I’ve pulled from my pocket and waggled in front of him to know where I had gone with this. “…Uno?”
“Ha, yes!” he cheers clapping his hands and disappearing in the same instant. He then appears behind me, standing on his dragon’s claw and antelope hoof and picking me up to hug me against his chest. “Now, that’s the Jayjay I’ve missed for all these years!”
With another poof, both he and the deck of cards disappeared and before I can clasp my hand to confirm that it was now empty, Discord shows up again, now wearing a black vest over a pristine white shirt and sharp red tie, his black mane styled into a combover along with a large pair of glasses. With the deck levitating in front of him, it begins to shuffle itself in a variety of intricate ways.
“Arighty, the game’s Uno!” he barks like a character in a 1930’s Cary Grant comedy. “Match the color, card, or number to the discard pile until your hand’s completely empty, but don’t forget to shout, ‘Uno!’ on your last card, or it’s another draw for you!”
Then, with rapid flicks of the finger of his paw, cards shoot out at me and then back to him in a repetition until we each have seven cards. My hand is held in front of my face until I grab onto it. Upon him taking his hand, he and the deck disappear once more until he’s lying before me on his stomach, the deck now lying between us and his hand fanned over his snout.
“You wouldn’t mind cutting the deck, would you, old sport?”
I nod and reach for the deck, but upon grabbing by the bottoms of the cards, I find that the bottom halves come up with my hand, the top halves lying undisturbed on the floor. Discord widens his hand out to mask his snickering, glancing sideways as if it couldn’t possibly be him. I can’t help it; I laugh too.
“And that’s certainly the Discord I’ve missed for far too long,” I sigh out, putting the halved cards back together into a whole deck once more. “So yeah, obviously, a lot’s changed, other than…” I move my hand up and down to show off my much older self. “But I have to assume the one question burning in your mind is why I’m here, right?”
I play a card down, and he does as well, smirking as if he’s just laid the groundwork for a strategy that would make most chess grandmasters blush. “Actually, I’ve been just puzzling over whether peanut butter and bleu cheese would make for a good flavor of salt-water taffy, but I suppose if I’m going to stay on topic here…”
I smile as I play another card. Discord frowns as he draws two from the top. “I really have missed you, Discord. We sure had a lot of fun times during those nights. In fact, they… they inspired me to tell the world all about them.”
“What?!” Discord folds his hand into a single small stack and zips to the window, nearly knocking the deck over.
With his face and hands pressed against the glass, he looks out over the virtually unpopulated suburban street before grabbing the top of the window frame pulling it down like an actual window, the glass disappearing until there were was only a wide-and-short rectangular frame left.
“You can’t be talking about me like that!” Discord rubs his arms with his hands, feigning fright for his act. “What if they come looking for me and put me away forever!” He then rushes me and grabs me by the shoulders while lightly shaking me. “I can’t go back to the clink again, man! I just can’t!”
“Okay, Discord, relax! Just let me explain!”
“Oh… okay then!” With a snap of his paw-fingers and two consecutive flashes of light, Discord appears back in his original spot with a ‘Draw 2 card now sitting on the discard pile. “I do believe it’s your turn, so if you could please just stop fooling around…!”
“Alright, okay! Just give me a second!” Getting up out of my spot, I begin to walk to my bag near the closet, but not before spinning a card out of my hand and having it land perfectly onto the pile. “In the meantime, draw four, buddy!”
I only wish I could see the look on Discord’s face as I hear him grumbling while he draws four cards off the deck, loudly flicking the edges off to spite me. I snag the bag by the handles and walk back over so I can take my turn again. As I sit back down, I see several new cards placed over where my last one, all but the top one consisting of a rainbow of ‘Skips.’ As I sit down, Discord wheezes a couple of hoarse chuckles past his talon as he holds the last two cards of his hand to me.
I shrug nonchalantly. “Eh, don’t like that color.” I put another card down; the most feared in the game. “Draw another four, Discord. Oh, and blue.”
With an impossibly wide, disappointed frown, Discord wastes little time in perfectly drawing four cards from the top of the deck in one quick motion. As he sorts his hand back out, I feel like I have the time to get my second copy out to show him.
Discord looks back at me expectantly and frowns as I hold the cover out to him. “Listen here Jayjay, I’m already suffering quite the setback from your draw fours and whatnot, but I will not have you prolong my suff–oooh, is…” He stops as he finally begins appreciating my wife’s artwork. I even run my fingers along both sides of the book as I hold them, grinning ear to ear. “Is that me?”
Like an excited child, the book flies from my grasp and into Discord’s, who presses his face into the cover to observe every crest of paint that he can see on the front. He then looks up at me a little slackjawed and touched, the most genuine emotion I’ve seen from him yet.
“Jajay,” he mutters, “what is this?”
“It’s called making it, friendo!” I place a blue card on the pile, hoping he can take the hint. “Got myself an awesome book deal, and I have that to show for it!”
“Did you…” the book floats before him and it fans through all the pages in less than a second before closing again. “Did you write all about me?”
I shrug and cock my head. “I wrote about us, more specifically. I mean, a boy making friends with the monster in his closet? You’d have to be crazy as…” I scoff; he won’t take offense. “You’d have to be even crazier than you to not make a story out of that, especially when it’s practically an autobiography at this point!”
“This is…” Discord fans through the pages slower this time, savoring the illustrations in his own quirky, Discordian way. “Jayjay, this is so great! You have to read it to me!”
“Read it to–” Wasn’t expecting that so soon. “But what about–”
My cards are yanked back out from my hand and added to the discard pile in a clearly unplayable order. “Look, you won, now storytime! Now!”
Discord snaps his fingers again, and my eyes are assaulted by a blinding light before gravity throws me down to sit again, my body rocking uncomfortably back before I’m caught and swinging forward. Looking at my immediate surroundings, I’m now sitting in a large rocking chair with my book in one hand and my other cradling Discord’s…
Looks like Discord shrunk himself down to kid-size and now wants his pappy Jayjay to read him a story while he sits on my lap.
“Read that one, Jayjay!” Discord points at my book. “That one’s my favorite!”
“But you…” I stop myself, knowing I’m giving him the exact answer he wants. “Yeah, I suppose it will be.”
Discord snuggles himself up against my chest, a far creepier sensation than I’d ever like to think it would be, as he settles himself in to let me take him on a journey with my own words. Eh, I suppose if I can captivate this omnipotent creature, that’s got to be worth something.
I flip the book open to the first page, an unillustrated cover. “The Monster From My Closet, by Jay Jepsen.” I point at myself with my thumb. “That’s me!”
“Yeah, yeah,” he responds back with a cynical demeanor, “I know it’s you, you just spent the last few moments building that up didn’t you?!”
“Sorry!” I snap back. “I wasn’t sure how far into character you wanted to go for this!”
“Okay fine, carry on!”
I nod as I skip to the first pages with text on one side and art on the other, showing the inside of a sparsely-decorated, box-filled bedroom with a black void inside the closet and a dark shadow seeping out from the edge of the bed where a large boy-sized lump sat. With a clearing of my throat, I begin.
“Moving can be scary. You know what’s even scarier? Your first nights in your new bedroom. You have no idea what could be lurking under your bed or inside your closet. And as I lay awake with the covers held tightly over my face, I absolutely could not wait for the morning sun to scare away all the monsters and ghouls that lived there.
“My parents would always tell me, ‘There’s nothing there. Everything’s fine. It’s all just your imagination.’ No matter what they said, nothing could convince me that I wouldn’t soon be a tasty snack to the first monster to pop out and gobble me up before I could call for help.”
Turning the page, the illustration now showed a closer view of the closet where a pair of small, yet striking yellow and red eyes shone in the darkness.
“Because what I was pretty sure of then and what I’m certain of now is this: monsters are real. They do live in your closets and under your beds, just like you’ve always thought. I’ve met a monster once, and clearly, I’ve lived to tell the tale here, which is exactly what I’m telling you now.”
Another turn of the page. The boy from the first picture is now shining a large plastic flashlight into his more furbished, but otherwise empty closet. An overturned empty glass of milk laid on the top of a small bedside drawer.
“One night, after days of terrifying noises coming from my closet, a flashlight as my only companion, I woke up to the unmistakable sight of a monster standing next to my bed. Shooting up as quick as a flash, the monster shot back into my closet and vanished just as quickly. By the time I shone my light where it scurried off, it was gone. The only sound I could hear was the tapping of the last drops of my glass of milk as they dripped to the floor.”
“To be fair,” Discord interrupted, “milk you take from a sleeping child tastes so much sweeter than usual! Speaking of, do you think I can have some?”
As much as I hate to play the insufferable straight man… “Like, can’t you snap up a glass for both of us?”
“Oh, now I’d hate to go through all that effort!” Discord became taut and vibrated as he stretched out his muscles before relaxing back into me, seeming a bit more deflated than normal. “Please, don’t keep me in suspense!”
I clear my throat as I turn the page, showing the child mopping the spilled drink with a discarded shirt as he stared back into his monster’s makeshift lair. “‘Do monsters like milk?’ I suddenly thought to myself. If this one did, then I’d have to be sure to get another glass for tomorrow night. I’d be ready for him.”
Turning the page once more, the child, now wearing a different shirt, laid on his side away from his closet, his eyes wide awake as he clutched his flashlight tightly. “I refused to sleep the following night. My drink-trap was all set for him to steal again, and I would not rest until I caught him in the act.”
Upon flipping the page, the perspective shifts to inside the closet, clearly from the monster’s point of view. Discord gasps long and hard, stretching and expanding out from my lap as he wraps around me and the chair and puts his chin atop my head to see, unable to contain his excitement. With the singular illustration taking up both pages, the next ones show the monster hovering over the glass of milk, safely assuming his mark was still fast asleep until…
I know this part. With a slow, teasing pinch onto the page, I hold my hand there for a few moments before throwing the page open, the bright shine of the boy’s flashlight resting in the bottom-middle as he points it at the monster’s eyes. With another quick turn of the page, it changes back to a third-person view, as both the child and the monster, sharing the exact likeness as Discord as I made sure my wife captured, stared at each other in shock, the latter’s paw and talon held up as he was now completely exposed by the flashlight’s harsh glow.
Suddenly feeling his weight lift off of me, I notice as Discord’s image on the pages begins to animate, putting his arms to his hips and looking at me crossly. “Oh come on, I didn’t look that frightened when we first met!”
I can’t help but laugh. “You most certainly did!”
“Ugh, you authors and your creative liberties!” Discord reaches over to the edge of the next page and turns it himself, showing the boy close to tears as his hold of his torch weakened and wobbled.
With Discord putting his arm on the back of the chair and lowering his neck down to level his head to mine, I clear my throat away from his face as I continue on. Turning the page, the boy’s eyes are wide in pure shock and terror as the monster’s talon finger is pressed against the boy’s lips, his open mouth curled in worry as he tried to plead his case.
“The monster moved at me far faster than my voice could cry out for my parents,” I narrate, “and with face near mine, his large eyes gazed into mine. I couldn’t help but feel they also made him look… scared? ‘Please don’t scream,’ the creature begged, ‘you caught me fair and square. I only wanted some of your milk over there. I suppose I alarmed you when I came back then, but if you let me go now, I promise you’ll never see me again!”
“What’s with the rhyming scheme?” Discord chortled before vanishing and reappearing before me in a pair of poofs, now looking like a black-and-white-striped horse. “Do I look like a zebra to you?”
“Currently, yeah!” Discord stomps a hoof down, returning to his original form and behind me as I turn the page yet again. Now from the boy’s perspective, he got a fuller look at the monster’s face, whose guilty, melancholy expression made him look rather cute in a pathetic kind of way. “My flashlight measured him up and down, down and up. He certainly looked big and scary, but those big, begging eyes of his gave the whole thing away.
“‘What are you?’ I forced myself to ask, his existence a magnet of curiosity.”
“Ooh, nice one,” Discord whispers in my ear.
“‘What… am I?’ the lanky creature more confidently mutters. ‘Why, I’m Discord, a draconequus! It certainly pleases me to see you not make such a fuss. I’m actually quite a riot where I’m from, chock full of fun and then some!”
Discord slithers his elongated neck around up and around the back of the chair before banking his neck to look back into my eyes. “And I still am, you know.”
I give him a firm, scratchy pet of his mane before his head slinks back to look over my shoulder as I turn the page. “‘So you’re not going to eat me?’” I ask him, his charm soon winning me over.
“‘Heavens no!’ he chortles. ‘I just wanted some milk. Eating children is quite frowned upon by my ilk. Though, I must say I’ve never been caught by one before. Perhaps you’d like to take this chance to see what fun I have in store?”
Flipping the page, the kid was graced to a wild, magical performance that would put Aladdin’s Genie to shame. Discord slides his head back onto my shoulder and nuzzles his face against mine; nostalgic over the good times he shared with me.
I continued reading.
Much like the paintings that Ellen had flipped through, the kid and the monster flew around the room, played board games with the pieces moving by themselves, just having an absolute blast that I knew, even as I continued to read it aloud, I was far too blessed to have gotten to experience. Morning came in my tale, and the monster bid his new friend farewell before returning to his closet. The full weight of Discord’s head is now on me, feeling as exhausted and fulfilled as if he got to experience our first night all over again.
Only a couple of pages left.
“‘Did you sleep well?’ Dad asked me over breakfast. ‘No monsters last night?’
“I smiled, hardly able to contain my laughter. ‘Yeah. We’re okay now.’”
“My parents would never understand, but it didn’t matter. I was no longer afraid of the monster from my closet, and I’d never have to be again.” I turn to the penultimate pages, showing the kid sitting up in bed to acknowledge his dad wishing him goodnight before closing his bedroom door. “And so now, before I go to sleep, I’m sure to leave a full glass of milk near my bed just in case my friend needs a drink.”
I turn to the last image of the book: a tall glass of milk sitting on his drawer in the foreground while the kid is rolled over in his bed, completely calm and sound asleep. With Discord lulled completely by the story, I rest my head against his and wrap my arm around his head.
What did I ever do to deserve such a unique friendship?
“Thank you, Jayjay,” Discord whispers to me. “Speaking frankly, and do know how rare of an occurrence that is, I’m sure your book is gonna’ knock ‘em dead.”
I stretch my legs as I slowly swing myself out of the chair and face him. “I mean, it’s our story. I wouldn’t be able to knock em’ dead without you.”
I walk back over to him and fling my arms around him, hugging him tight as I press my face into his bristly belly. I know this moment won’t last forever, but it feels so good to get to feel this again. Why can’t it last forever?
I can’t help by let a couple tears out to be absorbed by his fur, but my sudden feelings of sadness and impending farewell is broken as Discord tenderly pulls me closer to him with his paw and talon, refusing to ruin this rare moment with even as much of a quip or gag. He just lets us have this moment for however long he feels like I need it. It has to be a personal record or something.
Damn. Suddenly, I can’t help but laugh, and the pressure Discord’s placing on my back lets up.
“What’s so funny?” He tries to sound offended that I would be the one of us to break the silence.
“I’m just thinking about what would happen if Ellen came up and saw us like this.”
The scenario also begins to dawn on Discord as well, and he begins to giggle, which grows into a chuckle, and soon, he slaps his face and falls back on the floor writhing, unable to contain his uproarious laughter. All I can do is stand, watch, and laugh with him, thankful I can likely end this reunion on a note other than sappy.
Almost instantly, Discord shoots himself to sit straight and stops to say, “By the way, you called blue and just played your entire hand down. That’s cheating, you know!”
And back to our Uno games. That’s a much better note to end on. Acknowledging his statement with a nod, I hop back down in front of the deck and sit picking my hand back up until the Draw 4 reappears. Discord falls straight down from the ceiling and lands across from me before picking his hand back up.
“I’m looking forward to not getting to take my turn again with that blue Reverse in your hand!” he jestingly sneers.
“Yeah, now look who’s cheating!” I loudly, and just as jokingly grumble.
We share a laugh as we continue our game, and then another, and another.
___
Discord lays down a red 4 and just as quickly declares, “Uno!” with the enthusiasm that he thinks he’s going to win next turn. I simply cock my head and slap down a red Skip just as I shout, “Uno!” myself and then lay down a red 2. With a clap and raising of my hands to show them empty, Discord disappointingly throws his own red Skip before making the cards shuffle themselves with a snap of his paw.
I check my watch and see that it’s already getting close to 3. It had to come eventually, and now’s the time.
With a sigh, I stand up from my sit and stretch. Discord already knows what’s up, his ears drooping sadly as he fully realizes.
“Have to go so soon?” Discord toyingly whines. “I thought we’d still have just enough time for a best 3 out of 5 in Monopoly!”
I can’t help but grimace as wide as my eyes; even as a joke, that’s borderline psychotic. “Perhaps another time, buddy, but I have to get to my thing now.”
With the cards shuffled, the cards begin flying back into the box before it closes back up. Discord stands up as well and hands the box back to me.
“I mean… there will be ‘another time,’ right?”
I nod, smiling this time. “I told Ellen that I’d like to bring my wife back here to check my old dig–”
Discord places another bone-breakingly-tight hug on me. “Oh, I’d love to meet the missus! You think she can do a commission for me? I’ll be sure to pay her in exposure!”
“Trust me when I say that she’ll be more than happy to go pro bono for you.”
“Sold!”
After letting me go, he teleports behind me before giving a series of fast karate chops and a jerk of my neck to relieve me after his embrace.
“Well,” he forcefully sighed, “I best let you get going. Don’t want to keep you from sharing my excellence with the world! Toodles!”
He begins to return to the closet, and I reach out to him. “Discord, wait!”
Stopping halfway inside, I walk over to him with the copy of the book I had just read to him, holding it out for him to take. He appears to feel half his weight lighter as he grabs hold and looks at it: the fruits of our strange, yet enduring friendship. His eyes grow wide and begin to water as I place my hand on his arm.
“Take care, Discord.”
With a deep breath in, I decide that I can’t go without one more. I dive into him and hug him tight once more, Discord folding himself over me as he returns my embrace. With a long, drawn out sniff, Discord kept his tears and snot from dripping out onto me or the floor. I realize it’ll only get harder to leave with each second, so with a reluctant pat of his back, he lets me go and I am able to step away.
We stand there for a few moments knowing that in another one, he’ll be gone again. He takes one step back into the closet and then stops before pointing the corner of the book at me.
“And don’t forget to tell your wifey about me!”
I wave, both as a final farewell and as an assurance that I would absolutely not forget. Satisfied with that, Discord walks into the closet, his hoofsteps echoing inside before they just cut off altogether. I take a nice deep breath, also satisfied with how it all turned out. With nothing left to do here, I pull out my phone and begin to schedule my Uber as I leave the room and return downstairs.
_
I give a thankful, platonic hug to Ellen as my ride runs parked behind me.
“So when do you think you’ll be back?” she asks.
“Not sure. I don’t intend on making this a summer home, you know.”
“Oh, please! You’re welcome anytime, so don’t hesitate to reach out again!”
And I don’t plan to. “Alright. I’ll be sure to bring Bryce over next time.”
“Bless you. Good luck tonight!”
“Thanks again, Ellen! Bye!”
Not wanting to keep my Uber waiting a second more, I lightly jog to their car and get myself in, placing my bag down on my lap. As the car pulls out of the driveway and into the street, I see Ellen waving to me, and I wave her back through my window. I keep my eyes on her and my old house for as long as I can before the car makes another turn and pulls it out of my view.
I can now sit forward and relax until I get to the library where everyone will be waiting for me. Still, I can’t begin to believe how fortunate I am that I grew up here.
With them.
With him.
