by Tom Turner
When Plug jumped off the ride, he and Charlie hustled back to the arcade. Plug sported a huge grin and looked to Charlie as if an enormous weight had been lifted from his heart.
“Want some cotton candy?” asked Plug. He held another balloon-sized spool. “It’s delicious! And not paint!”
“Tastes just like the real thing,” said Charlie, pulling off a pink tuft. “Even better than the real thing.”
“For real!” said Plug. “Too bad Ring Dings haven’t been invented yet. I’d be the king in two worlds.”
Charlie and Plug shoved the last wad of cotton candy into their mouths and entered the arcade.
“You ready?” asked Charlie.
“I am now,” said Plug, his huge smile hardly containable.
Charlie returned the smile and then looked toward one of the funhouse mirrors.
“Let’s go home,” he said.
Slivers of sunlight bled through the window blinds and into Charlie’s apartment as another day greeted New York. Charlie and Plug stepped through a glowing red portal and into his mom’s bedroom. She was asleep on the bed. The TV played in the background. It flashed the headline: California Hospital Riots End. Charlie smiled at the news. He turned off the TV and sat beside his mother.
“Mom,” he said, gently nudging her. “Mom… wake up.”
As she opened her eyes, the red portal disappeared.
“Charlie?” she said through an exhausted yawn.
“Mom!” He jumped into her arms, hugging her tight.
“God, I feel like I’ve been asleep for days,” she said. “Did you and Plug get the pizza?”
The boys laughed, but Charlie didn’t let go. He didn’t want to let go ever again.
“I had a really weird and terrible dream,” she said.
If she only knew, thought Charlie.
“First, there were these people in our apartment, and then…” She paused, trying to recall. “I don’t know… but I remember this thing… this awful thing… was hurting you… And Plug was there! And I couldn’t stop it,” she said, continuing through another yawn. “It’s hard to explain, but I couldn’t get to you… I—”
Charlie stopped her, calming her, as she had done for him so many times before. “It was just a bad dream,” he said, a smirk slowly shaping above his chin. “Wait a minute… You’re not afraid of the Bogeyman are ya?”
“Better him than spiders,” she replied, smiling.
Plug tried to stifle a laugh, nearly blowing his nose off.
Charlie opened the blinds, allowing the bright morning sun to wash over the room. “Well, don’t worry,” he said. “The Bogeyman can’t hurt you anymore.”
Charlie looked out the window. In the courtyard he spotted the crossing guard, the school janitor, and pigeon man. He nodded to them knowingly as his eyes caught a ray of sun. They sparked gold, and he smiled.
“He can’t hurt anyone anymore.”
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
First and foremost, I would like to thank my family and friends for their unending and unconditional love and support, without which this book may have remained but a dream.
To my dedicated editor and friend, for his keen eye, relentless red pen, spirited guidance, willingness to take late night calls, and ever-enduring ability to scale mountains of pages throughout the journey toward publication.
To my childhood best friend, without whose heart, humor, and lifelong memories the seeds of Plug’s character may never have taken root.
To everyone who invested their time, energy, talents, and expertise towards this book’s production and ultimate release.
And lastly…
To dreamers everywhere.
Tom Turner discovered his love of storytelling in the libraries, playhouses and movie theaters of Philadelphia. He was fascinated by the power and wonder of a great story and knew, from a very young age, that he wanted to spend his life dreaming up exciting characters and adventures of his own. Sign of the Sandman is his first novel.
SIGNOFTHESANDMAN.com