GOODNIGHT, LITTLE BEAR
RJ HERVEY
Sydney hid under his covers as Dr. Wallace left the room. Even from within his tent, he could still hear the uncomfortable sounds of Mom crying into Dad’s shoulder. Under his arm nestled his teddy, Little Bear. The animal’s soft hair tickled at Sydney’s gaunt skin.
He fidgeted. It had been weeks since Sydney had been allowed to go outside, and the worst part was that Mom and Dad wouldn’t tell him why. For a while he had enjoyed lying in his cool new bed all day, watching cartoons, but that had soon gotten boring. Besides, it was hard to watch TV anyway with all the noisy machines next to his bed.
He slowly reemerged from beneath the sheets, watching Mom and Dad curiously. He hadn’t ever seen grown-ups cry before they came to the hospital—he didn’t think he liked it very much. “Why is Mom crying?” Sydney asked Dad, trying to be quiet in case Mom was sick. Dad shook his head slowly, and Mom cried even harder. “I’m sorry,” Sydney whispered, thinking he had said something wrong.
Last time Mom had been sick was before they had moved to the hospital. Sydney remembered when she stayed in bed all day and he and Dad made her cheese sandwiches and soup, and Sydney had given her Little Bear to hold because Little Bear always made him feel better so why wouldn’t it make Mom feel better too? Mom had seemed really happy after that, so Little Bear must have made her feel better like Sydney had thought. He hugged Little Bear close for a moment, then stretched his arms out, trying to give Little Bear to Mom to make her feel better like before.
Sydney wondered if Dr. Wallace had made Mom cry. He hadn’t really understood anything Dr. Wallace had said, but he thought it must have been pretty mean. His mom was really tough.
Sydney didn’t like Dr. Wallace. He wanted to know where Ms. Jackie was—she hadn’t come to visit him today like she normally did. Every day before lunch, Ms. Jackie would come and see Sydney wearing her light blue pajamas, carrying her weird earphones around her neck. She always gave him a lollipop to chew on while she listened to his heart and looked at the machines next to his bed. Then, before she left, she would always kiss the top of his head. At first it had felt funny, but Sydney liked it now. It reminded him of how Mom was before they went to the hospital.
Mom still hadn’t taken Little Bear from Sydney even though he was holding it out for her. He wasn’t sure if Mom had seen him, but he didn’t want to say anything; it seemed wrong to interrupt her when she was crying. Just as he was about to withdraw both his arms and his offer, Dad reached out and took Little Bear instead. He ruffled Sydney’s hair. Sydney wouldn’t ever say so, but he really liked when Dad ruffled his hair.
Instead of handing Little Bear to Mom like Sydney wanted, Dad held onto him, staring at Little Bear sadly. Sydney wondered if Dad saw something different than he saw whenever he looked at Little Bear.
A breath of fresh air blew through the window on the other side of his room. It smelled like the forest Sydney liked to explore around Grandma’s house.
Sydney loved going to Grandma’s house. She always made pancakes in the morning, and he could spend all day searching the forest for frogs with Little Bear and Grandma’s dog, Trevor. Whenever he found one, he would always run straight back to the house to show Grandma, Trevor barking all the while, and she would help him make a place for the tiny frog to live in an old fishbowl. Little Bear would usually sit watch over the frogs whenever they were in the house. Then, before he had to go home, Sydney, Little Bear, and Grandma would take all the frogs he had found and set them free at the lake down the road.
“Oh god, why?”
Sydney returned his gaze to Mom. He almost ducked under his covers again—Mom was starting to scare him.
“Shh...you’re frightening Sydney,” Dad said. His voice sounded strange.
“No god...no...no no no...why are you doing this?” Mom was talking loudly, like she usually only did when she was angry.
Sydney pulled the sheets over his head, wishing he had Little Bear back.
“What did I do to deserve this, god!? What did I do?!?” Mom was yelling now. “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!?”
Sydney was trembling under the covers. His heart racing, he held tightly to his pillow and tried to pretend he was at Grandma’s house.
“Alice!” Dad said. He never called Mom by her name unless he was angry.
From where he was, Sydney heard the crash as Mom knocked over her chair and ran out of the room. Sydney started crying—he was so scared. Dad patted Sydney once comfortingly, put Little Bear down on the bed, then followed Mom into the hallway.
Sydney grabbed Little Bear, but didn’t emerge from under the covers for several long minutes, and even when he did, his eyes were still wet and his hands still shaking. No matter what he did, he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking.
He could still hear Mom sobbing in the hallway outside his room. “How could they not let us know ahead of time?” Mom said, her voice carrying through the door that hadn’t been shut all the way. “How could they not know until now...”
Dad reached over and shut the door. Sydney was glad he did; Mom was scaring him really badly.
Suddenly tired, Sydney lay back onto his pillow; Little Bear held tight against his chest. He thought about turning on the TV, but his head was starting to hurt and he couldn’t remember where the remote was.
As he lay there, sounds of playing children drifted through the window from the elementary school across the street. Sydney listened for a long while to the class playing kickball, the girls jumping rope, and the basketball game on the blacktop. He wished more than anything that he could be down there with them—those children he had never met but knew would be his friends without hesitation.
It had been great, for a while, when Mom and Dad told Sydney that he didn’t need to go to school anymore, but Sydney had soon discovered that he got lonely without seeing his friends every day. In fact, he hadn’t seen any of his friends for a really long time, not since the whole class had come to visit him in the hospital a couple of weeks ago. The thought made him sad. He wondered if they even remembered him anymore.
Sydney was in first grade—had been in first grade. He remembered how scared he had been on the first day of school. He hadn’t ever ridden a bus before, and had sat as close to the bus driver as possible.
Laughter exploded through the window from the playground across the street, drawing Sydney out of his reverie. His head hurt. Sydney wished he could see what was going on—see why everyone was laughing. Curious, Sydney tried to push himself out of bed. He couldn’t. He was so tired. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking and his head hurt. He was so tired he couldn’t even move his legs. He started to cry, then stopped as he forgot what had made him sad to begin with. Mom and Dad were still outside the door to Sydney’s room, but he couldn’t hear them anymore.
Sydney found himself daydreaming, like he often did by himself before bed – inventing adventures in his head to go on with Little Bear. This time he was in the jungle. He and Little Bear were swinging from vine to vine. He could barely see the trees as they blurred past. Colorful birds flew alongside him, singing happily. Sydney and Little Bear sung too. Then they got to the castle with all the Villains inside of it. They swung over the wall, flew through the air, and landed in the middle of the castle. Together, Sydney and Little Bear fought all the Villains. Sydney had a giant sword that was bigger than his whole body! They had to fight all the Villains because they wanted to cut down the jungle, even though that was where Sydney and Little Bear lived. Then Sydney got hurt by one of the Villains. Little Bear picked him up and ran away with him before the Villains could hurt him more. But Sydney was too heavy! Go on by yourself, he pretended to tell Little Bear.
Sydney wished Mom and Dad would come back. The thought drew him out of his daydream, ending it before Sydney could finish the story.
If not Mom and Dad, then at least if Grandma could come and see him again, he would be happy. The last time she had come to visit had been a few days ago, and she and brought a movie for the two of them to watch together while eating cookies that she had made. That had been a lot of fun, even though Sydney had fallen asleep during the movie and hadn’t seen the ending. Grandma promised that next time, they could finish the movie. Sydney had also asked if she could bring Trevor, but Grandma said she didn’t think that dogs were allowed in the hospital, especially not ones as big as Trevor.
Sydney yawned.
He was really tired and he always prayed with Mom and Dad before bedtime. Then sometimes Mom would sing a song, or Dad would tell him a story. Sydney loved falling asleep to the sound of Mom and Dad’s voices, but he didn’t think that would happen this time; they never sang to him or told him stories when they were upset. He tried not to think about how upset Mom was.
Drowsily, Sydney decided he would pray by himself this time – Mom had scared him too much for him to press the little blue button on his bed that would make them come back in his room. He tried to maneuver his legs underneath him so that he could kneel, but he was so tired that he couldn’t move them. He tried to hold his hands together, but he was so tired that his arms wouldn’t budge. He hoped that God wouldn’t be too mad. He closed his eyes.
“Dear God,” he began, mumbling. It was hard to remember how he and Mom and Dad usually prayed. “I’m about to go to sleep. Thank you for giving me the day, and letting me spend time with Mom and Dad. Maybe tomorrow can I go home? I miss Grandma and Trevor and my friends.” Sydney thought for a moment. “And I don’t want to hurt your feelings or anything because Dad says you made everything, but I really don’t like it in the hospital.”
Sydney was quiet for a moment, his lips moved, but he didn’t say anything. He just lay there. After a moment, he continued, “When I fall asleep, God, please help me to not have any bad dreams. Please also help Mom to feel better and stop crying.” At this point, Sydney was speaking almost entirely in his head. His lips still tried to form the words, but only small sounds and whispers managed to escape. “Amen.”
As he finished his prayer, Sydney opened his eyes partway. Mom and Dad were still outside. Under his arm lay Little Bear.
Sydney and Little Bear had been together since before Sydney could remember. He couldn’t imagine doing anything without the teddy.
“Goodnight, Little Bear,” Sydney whispered. Little Bear did not reply.
A breath of fresh air kissed his nose.
He fidgeted. It had been weeks since Sydney had been allowed to go outside, and the worst part was that Mom and Dad wouldn’t tell him why. For a while he had enjoyed lying in his cool new bed all day, watching cartoons, but that had soon gotten boring. Besides, it was hard to watch TV anyway with all the noisy machines next to his bed.
He slowly reemerged from beneath the sheets, watching Mom and Dad curiously. He hadn’t ever seen grown-ups cry before they came to the hospital—he didn’t think he liked it very much. “Why is Mom crying?” Sydney asked Dad, trying to be quiet in case Mom was sick. Dad shook his head slowly, and Mom cried even harder. “I’m sorry,” Sydney whispered, thinking he had said something wrong.
Last time Mom had been sick was before they had moved to the hospital. Sydney remembered when she stayed in bed all day and he and Dad made her cheese sandwiches and soup, and Sydney had given her Little Bear to hold because Little Bear always made him feel better so why wouldn’t it make Mom feel better too? Mom had seemed really happy after that, so Little Bear must have made her feel better like Sydney had thought. He hugged Little Bear close for a moment, then stretched his arms out, trying to give Little Bear to Mom to make her feel better like before.
Sydney wondered if Dr. Wallace had made Mom cry. He hadn’t really understood anything Dr. Wallace had said, but he thought it must have been pretty mean. His mom was really tough.
Sydney didn’t like Dr. Wallace. He wanted to know where Ms. Jackie was—she hadn’t come to visit him today like she normally did. Every day before lunch, Ms. Jackie would come and see Sydney wearing her light blue pajamas, carrying her weird earphones around her neck. She always gave him a lollipop to chew on while she listened to his heart and looked at the machines next to his bed. Then, before she left, she would always kiss the top of his head. At first it had felt funny, but Sydney liked it now. It reminded him of how Mom was before they went to the hospital.
Mom still hadn’t taken Little Bear from Sydney even though he was holding it out for her. He wasn’t sure if Mom had seen him, but he didn’t want to say anything; it seemed wrong to interrupt her when she was crying. Just as he was about to withdraw both his arms and his offer, Dad reached out and took Little Bear instead. He ruffled Sydney’s hair. Sydney wouldn’t ever say so, but he really liked when Dad ruffled his hair.
Instead of handing Little Bear to Mom like Sydney wanted, Dad held onto him, staring at Little Bear sadly. Sydney wondered if Dad saw something different than he saw whenever he looked at Little Bear.
A breath of fresh air blew through the window on the other side of his room. It smelled like the forest Sydney liked to explore around Grandma’s house.
Sydney loved going to Grandma’s house. She always made pancakes in the morning, and he could spend all day searching the forest for frogs with Little Bear and Grandma’s dog, Trevor. Whenever he found one, he would always run straight back to the house to show Grandma, Trevor barking all the while, and she would help him make a place for the tiny frog to live in an old fishbowl. Little Bear would usually sit watch over the frogs whenever they were in the house. Then, before he had to go home, Sydney, Little Bear, and Grandma would take all the frogs he had found and set them free at the lake down the road.
“Oh god, why?”
Sydney returned his gaze to Mom. He almost ducked under his covers again—Mom was starting to scare him.
“Shh...you’re frightening Sydney,” Dad said. His voice sounded strange.
“No god...no...no no no...why are you doing this?” Mom was talking loudly, like she usually only did when she was angry.
Sydney pulled the sheets over his head, wishing he had Little Bear back.
“What did I do to deserve this, god!? What did I do?!?” Mom was yelling now. “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!?”
Sydney was trembling under the covers. His heart racing, he held tightly to his pillow and tried to pretend he was at Grandma’s house.
“Alice!” Dad said. He never called Mom by her name unless he was angry.
From where he was, Sydney heard the crash as Mom knocked over her chair and ran out of the room. Sydney started crying—he was so scared. Dad patted Sydney once comfortingly, put Little Bear down on the bed, then followed Mom into the hallway.
Sydney grabbed Little Bear, but didn’t emerge from under the covers for several long minutes, and even when he did, his eyes were still wet and his hands still shaking. No matter what he did, he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking.
He could still hear Mom sobbing in the hallway outside his room. “How could they not let us know ahead of time?” Mom said, her voice carrying through the door that hadn’t been shut all the way. “How could they not know until now...”
Dad reached over and shut the door. Sydney was glad he did; Mom was scaring him really badly.
Suddenly tired, Sydney lay back onto his pillow; Little Bear held tight against his chest. He thought about turning on the TV, but his head was starting to hurt and he couldn’t remember where the remote was.
As he lay there, sounds of playing children drifted through the window from the elementary school across the street. Sydney listened for a long while to the class playing kickball, the girls jumping rope, and the basketball game on the blacktop. He wished more than anything that he could be down there with them—those children he had never met but knew would be his friends without hesitation.
It had been great, for a while, when Mom and Dad told Sydney that he didn’t need to go to school anymore, but Sydney had soon discovered that he got lonely without seeing his friends every day. In fact, he hadn’t seen any of his friends for a really long time, not since the whole class had come to visit him in the hospital a couple of weeks ago. The thought made him sad. He wondered if they even remembered him anymore.
Sydney was in first grade—had been in first grade. He remembered how scared he had been on the first day of school. He hadn’t ever ridden a bus before, and had sat as close to the bus driver as possible.
Laughter exploded through the window from the playground across the street, drawing Sydney out of his reverie. His head hurt. Sydney wished he could see what was going on—see why everyone was laughing. Curious, Sydney tried to push himself out of bed. He couldn’t. He was so tired. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking and his head hurt. He was so tired he couldn’t even move his legs. He started to cry, then stopped as he forgot what had made him sad to begin with. Mom and Dad were still outside the door to Sydney’s room, but he couldn’t hear them anymore.
Sydney found himself daydreaming, like he often did by himself before bed – inventing adventures in his head to go on with Little Bear. This time he was in the jungle. He and Little Bear were swinging from vine to vine. He could barely see the trees as they blurred past. Colorful birds flew alongside him, singing happily. Sydney and Little Bear sung too. Then they got to the castle with all the Villains inside of it. They swung over the wall, flew through the air, and landed in the middle of the castle. Together, Sydney and Little Bear fought all the Villains. Sydney had a giant sword that was bigger than his whole body! They had to fight all the Villains because they wanted to cut down the jungle, even though that was where Sydney and Little Bear lived. Then Sydney got hurt by one of the Villains. Little Bear picked him up and ran away with him before the Villains could hurt him more. But Sydney was too heavy! Go on by yourself, he pretended to tell Little Bear.
Sydney wished Mom and Dad would come back. The thought drew him out of his daydream, ending it before Sydney could finish the story.
If not Mom and Dad, then at least if Grandma could come and see him again, he would be happy. The last time she had come to visit had been a few days ago, and she and brought a movie for the two of them to watch together while eating cookies that she had made. That had been a lot of fun, even though Sydney had fallen asleep during the movie and hadn’t seen the ending. Grandma promised that next time, they could finish the movie. Sydney had also asked if she could bring Trevor, but Grandma said she didn’t think that dogs were allowed in the hospital, especially not ones as big as Trevor.
Sydney yawned.
He was really tired and he always prayed with Mom and Dad before bedtime. Then sometimes Mom would sing a song, or Dad would tell him a story. Sydney loved falling asleep to the sound of Mom and Dad’s voices, but he didn’t think that would happen this time; they never sang to him or told him stories when they were upset. He tried not to think about how upset Mom was.
Drowsily, Sydney decided he would pray by himself this time – Mom had scared him too much for him to press the little blue button on his bed that would make them come back in his room. He tried to maneuver his legs underneath him so that he could kneel, but he was so tired that he couldn’t move them. He tried to hold his hands together, but he was so tired that his arms wouldn’t budge. He hoped that God wouldn’t be too mad. He closed his eyes.
“Dear God,” he began, mumbling. It was hard to remember how he and Mom and Dad usually prayed. “I’m about to go to sleep. Thank you for giving me the day, and letting me spend time with Mom and Dad. Maybe tomorrow can I go home? I miss Grandma and Trevor and my friends.” Sydney thought for a moment. “And I don’t want to hurt your feelings or anything because Dad says you made everything, but I really don’t like it in the hospital.”
Sydney was quiet for a moment, his lips moved, but he didn’t say anything. He just lay there. After a moment, he continued, “When I fall asleep, God, please help me to not have any bad dreams. Please also help Mom to feel better and stop crying.” At this point, Sydney was speaking almost entirely in his head. His lips still tried to form the words, but only small sounds and whispers managed to escape. “Amen.”
As he finished his prayer, Sydney opened his eyes partway. Mom and Dad were still outside. Under his arm lay Little Bear.
Sydney and Little Bear had been together since before Sydney could remember. He couldn’t imagine doing anything without the teddy.
“Goodnight, Little Bear,” Sydney whispered. Little Bear did not reply.
A breath of fresh air kissed his nose.