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ARISTOTLE AND THE CLOSET MONSTER by Mary K. Phariss
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Aristotle caught himself before his face splashed into his breakfast cereal. "Aristotle, why are you so sleepy?" his mom asked, as she read her newspaper. "I - I can't say," he yawned and rubbed his eyes. "Are you sick?" she asked. "Aristotle looked at his cereal and sighed, "I - I guess I'm just a little scared." "Scared? Why?" she asked, looking up from her newspaper. "Well ... there's these weird scratchy noises in my closet at night," he said. "Didn't you check them out?" his mom asked. "N - no, what if something grabbed me?" he asked. His mom raised her eyebrows and thought about what to do. "Well, you can't go without sleeping," she said and stood up. "So, I'll go take a look." "I hope we don't have mice!" she added, as she left the kitchen. Mice! Was that the sound he was hearing at night? Aristotle shivered as he imagined super-sized mice gnawing on the puzzle boxes in his closet. Soon, his mom returned, carrying a fist full of socks. "D - did you find anything?" he asked. She frowned. "Well, I found where you have been hiding your socks!" Aristotle sat up quickly. That's weird, he thought, as he always put his socks in the clothes hamper! Who had put his socks in the closet? Finally, bedtime came. Sleepily, Aristotle looked at the closet. He was just too tired to watch it tonight. He checked and made sure the door was tightly shut, then put on his pajamas, and climbed into bed. He Left his lamp on- just in case. Aristotle soon drifted off ... to ... sleep. "HEY!" Aristotle's eyes popped open. He jumped up and looked around his room. Who said that? His room looked the same. No one was there. Did he dream it? "Hey, light boy!" a voice growled. Aristotle snapped to attention and wildly looked around. Nothing. Except the closet door was cracked open! Aristotle's teeth chattered. "Yeah, I'm talking to YOU, light boy!" the voice grumbled. Aristotle's heart pounded as he stared at the closet. "What's the matter, boy? You forget how to talk?" asked the voice. "W - what?" croaked Aristotle. "How's about turning out that light so's I can get out of here?" it asked. "W - who are you?" Aristotle gasped. "Who do you think, light boy?" the voice chuckled. Aristotle frowned. "Why do you keep calling me that?" "Cause you keep that light on all the time." it said. Trembling, Aristotle stared at the closet. He didn't know WHAT to think! "Hel - lo! Anyone out there?" it asked. "You going to turn out that light or not?" Aristotle wasn't about to turn out his light! There was a real monster in his closet! "W - why can't you come out with the light on?" he asked. "Cause light makes me very sick," the voice answered. Aristotle felt uneasy. "I - I don't like the dark. Besides, I don't know you." "You're Aristotle, right?" it asked. "H - how did you know that?" sputtered Aristotle. "I know lots of things about you," it laughed. "My name is Lork." "L - lork?" Aristotle stammered. "Yeah ... listen, kid, I haven't eaten in hours. Can't you help me?" begged Lork. Aristotle's skin began to prickle. "A - are you going to eat me?" he asked. "Eat you? Bleck!" Lork gagged. "Don't make me barf!" "Then, what do you eat?" asked Aristotle. "Lint mostly, but I LOVE cotton balls! Mmm - MMM!" said Lork. Aristotle relaxed a little. "That's all you eat?" "Yep!" said Lork, "except when I'm trapped - like when you leave your light on. I try to keep a few socks handy." So, you're the one who put my socks in there." said Aristotle. "Yeah, but your mom stole them," groaned Lork. "Now, I'm starving! So, kid, please turn out that light! I need some dinner!" Aristotle still wasn't sure about Lork. "I - I can't," he stuttered. "Why not?" asked Lork. "I've been living in your closet for two years! Have I done anything to you yet?" Aristotle thought a minute. "Well ... no," he hesitated. "Then, I'm not going to do anything to you now. Besides, I'm to weak from hunger," sighed Lork. Aristotle was still a little afraid, but he didn't want Lork to starve to death, either. Aristotle decided to help. "What if I covered my flashlight with something?" he asked, "would that hurt you?" "Kid, I would try anything for some lint!" said Lork. Aristotle grabbed his flashlight and jumped off his bed. Quickly, he sped out of his room. In minutes, he had brought back what was needed. Near the closet door, he piled some stuff from the clothes-dryer's lint filter. Next to that, he piled a bunch of cotton balls. Then, Aristotle hopped back into his bed, and stuck his flashlight under his bed sheets. He snapped it on, and made sure that enough light was coming through. Finally, after a few deep breaths for courage, he turned out the light. Click! The room became very dim. Aristotle opened his eyes wide so that he could see better. "Y - you can come out now Lork," he said. Slowly, the door creaked open. Aristotle could barely make out a fuzzy, little gray figure. It was about the size of a kitten! He couldn't clearly see a face, but he could make out two black, shiny, jellybean-shaped eyes. Lork, the closet monster, looked at Aristotle. "You aren't going to hurt me are you, kid?" "No, why would you think that?" asked Aristotle. "I'm afraid you'll try to trap me," said Lork. Lork is afraid of me? Aristotle thought. He couldn't believe it! Lork must have been very hungry to risk his own safety like this. "I won't hurt you, Lork, I promise. Look what I brought you!" Lork sniffed at the piles of lint and cotton. Then, before Aristotle could look twice, Lork sucked them up. There wasn't even a bit of fluff left behind! "U - r - r - r - p!" Lork burped, "excuse ME!" Aristotle began to laugh. He had forgotten that he was afraid. Aristotle knew Lork shouldn't stay in the dim light much longer. He didn't want his new friend to get sick. "Hey, Lork?" "Yeah, kid?" answered Lork. "If you come back tomorrow, I'll bring more lint and stuff," said Aristotle."That would be great!" cheered Lork. "See you later, then," laughed Aristotle. "Later, light boy," Lork giggled and went back into the closet. Aristotle clicked his lamp on. Blinking at the closet, he thought about how scared he had been. He couldn't help feeling a little silly. "Goodnight, Lork," he whispered. No sound came from the closet. Aristotle snapped off the lamp and snuggled down under his covers. Soon, he drifted off ... to ... sleep.
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