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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1590869-Story-1-The-Monster-in-the-Coal-Shed
by Fana
Rated: E · Fiction · Children's · #1590869
This story tells us about little Ronnie an his mean cousins.
“Oh dear, he’s so adorable,” Mrs Pathies said, smiling at Ronald. The little fellow was clutching to his mother’s leg, hiding from the chubby, blonde neighbour. Mrs. Reckford laughed.
“Not so adorable when he has to go to bed,” she said. Little Ronald turned his eyes up when he heard the words has, go and bed, and when he saw his mother smiling at him he was convinced he really had to go. Mrs Pathies smiled broadly when she saw his big, shiny eyes looking at his mother. Then she sighed.
“Well, I have to go,” she said, her apple-cheeks going up and down when she talked. “I’ll bring you the cakes next Tuesday.”
“Yes, thank you so much that you’re willing to do this. I mean, everyone knows that your pies are the best,” Mrs. Reckford said flattering, and then the two women said goodbye. Ronald’s mother waited till Mrs. Pathies was outside the garden and looked down on her son.
“Shall we go?” she asked, bending down to pick him up.
“NO!” Ronald said, looking at her with a very angry look on his face. “NO!” Then he ran away. Going to bed wasn’t such a bad thing in Ronald’s opinion, but there were so many more exciting things to do. Like playing with his cars, or with the sand in the backyard, or drawing, or…or, anything.
When he was inside the house he ran on until he came into the living room. Quickly he picked up as many cars as he could, which were four cars, to be precise. He stood still for a moment, not sure what to do next, not sure where to run now that he had his cars. Then he walked to the couch and tried to put his cars on it, in which he more or less succeeded, since only one fell on the ground.
“Oh,” he said, and he picked it up to put it on the couch, next to the other cars. With a little hardship he climbed on the couch as well. Instead of starting to play with his cars, however, he looked outside, into the backyard. It was nice garden, the garden of the Reckfords. Very organised and well tended. Grass in the middle, flowers on the sides. Near the house stood a sandbox and to the right a handmade swing, painted fiery red. But this all wasn’t what little Ronald was looking at. At the far back of the garden stood a coal shed, not painted fiery red…not painted at all, so that the wood had become green with algae. The door was broken, it had a hole in it on the upper right side. Through it Ronald could see it was so incredibly dark inside, even during the day, and he had already figured out a long time ago, there must be a monster inside. A monster that was afraid of the light. He had told his mother, but she had only laughed, brought him to the shed and opened the door. At first Ronald was too afraid to look inside, but when he looked there was nothing there.
“There, you see? There is no monster at all, just coal,” his mother had said, but Ronald wasn’t convinced. The monster must have disappeared when the door was opened, because of the light coming in. That was the only reason they couldn’t see it. But when the door would close again, the monster would there. Little Ronald was very, very sure of this, so he avoided being near the coal shed as much as possible.

“Wow, you have grown so much, Ronnie, what a sweetling you are,” Ronald’s grandpa said, squatting down to not have to look down on him to much.
“Yea,” Ronald answered laughing, not even knowing what exactly this old man with his shiny bold head had said to him. He knew it was something friendly, and that was enough. He ran to the corner of the room, to get his car.
“Car,” he said firmly, holding it up to show it to his grandfather. “BRRRRRR,” he imitated the sound of cars while he pushed it forward and backward.
“That’s a nice car you have there, boy, a police car, well to say. Do you know what the police is? They catch the bad guys.”
“BRRRROOM,” Ronald said, and his grandpa smiled.
“So playful at that age, I wish I were so young,” he told his daughter-in-law, getting up with a sigh.
“You just have to stop thinking old, Hack,” Mrs. Reckford said laughing, walking into the kitchen to get another piece of cake for one of the visitors.
“If you say so,” Hack said feigning seriousness. “I suppose I’ll buy some police cars and stuffed animals on the way home, maybe that’ll help.”
“I’ll buy something for your next birthday. Isn’t it in a couple of weeks? You’ll be seventy, right?” she asked while she cut of a piece of cake with chocolate icing.
“Don’t remind me, Ella. I’m trying so hard to forget, but everyone keeps reminding me of it. Younger people have no consideration for the elderly these days.”
Mrs. Reckford laughed and walked out when the bell rung. Ronald was walking into the room and went straight after his mother. Hack just shrugged and went back into the living room to talk to someone else.
“Mamma,” Ronald said, and he put his arms up to indicate he wanted her to carry him. She bent down and picked him up.
“Hello Ella, how wonderful to see you again. Really, we should get together more often than just during birthdays,” Mrs. Alve said, hugging her and Ronald while she was still standing outside.
“Hi to you too, Amy,” Mrs. Reckford said laughing, and she pulled her sister inside. “Come in, come in,” she told the man and three children behind her. Mr. Alve was a slender man with dark hair and everyone would at first think he was a humourless guy. Behind the grumpy face, however, hid a light-hearted person who was very pleasant to talk to. The three kids were all older than Ronald. You had the oldest, Martin, who was seven, the chubby Peter, who was six, and the youngest, Taylor, whom they called Tootoo for some reason. He was four. Mrs. Reckford tore herself from her sister and smiled at the kids.
“Nice to see you boys again. Look Ronnie, friends to play with.” Ronald looked at them suspiciously, then hid his face in his mothers shoulder.
“Aw, look at that, the boy’s shy,” Mrs. Alve said with a giggle, patting Ronald’s head and then walking on to the kitchen. “Oh, lovely cakes,” they heard her say. With a smile the rest followed, and Mrs. Reckford put Ronald on the ground. She cut a couple of pieces of cake, giving them the new arrivals and another to the person she initially went to get a piece for. Ronald was left with his cousins.
“Hello Ronnieponnie,” Peter said chuckling, and a small smile appeared on little Ronald’s face.
“Come, come!” Martin said. “Let’s play in the sandbox.”
“I want to go on the swing!” Peter said as he already started running to the backyard. The rest followed him, Taylor bringing Ronald with him, half pulling, half trying to carry him.

“What are you doing,” Peter said when Taylor stood on his already half collapsed sandcastle.
“I’m jumping, jumping, jumping on a castle,” Taylor sung, as he turned round and round while he jumped.
“You asshole,” Peter said, and Taylor’s mouth made a perfect “O” as he slapped his hand in front of it. Ronald had the same reaction. Though he couldn’t understand everything, he new perfectly well that this was a bad word.
“Asshole, asshole,” Martin said laughing from the red swing.
“You can’t say asshole,” Taylor said disapproving, standing there in hopeless disadvantage against his two older brothers.
“You just said asshole yourself, asshole,” Martin giggled, feeling very cool that he said such a bad word. Little Ronald just looked at it as if they were a bunch of green aliens speaking Swahili, completely dumbfounded by there vulgar language. Martin jumped off the swing, planning to land perfectly but tripping and almost falling on the ground. Before the others could laugh he shouted:
“I have a good idea,” and then softer, “why don’t we teach him bad words?”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Peter said with an excited grin. “Can you say asshole, Ronnie?” Ronald just looked at them flabbergasted. He didn’t understand what was going on at all. Why were they saying all those bad words?
“Maybe that’s too hard for him,” Martin said, “what about shit?”
“Say shit, little Ronnie, shitty, shitty, shitty,” Peter tried, but still no other reacting but a not understanding look from the little one and a half year old boy.
“If you don’t say shit, we’ll put you in the coal shed,” Martin said with an crooked smile on his face. Ronald looked at him angry. Even though he didn’t really know what Martin was talking about, he still understood he was up to no good.
“NO!” Ronald said, and he made a movement as if he wanted to punch Martin.
“Wow, Ronnie is dangerous,” Peter said. “Let’s put him in the coal shed.” Together with Martin he tried to pick up Ronald, but they had difficulties with it.
“Come on Tootoo, help us a little,” Martin said annoyed. “We can’t do it all by ourselves.”
“I don’t know, I don’t like the coal shed…”
“If you help us I’ll let you play with my race car,” Martin said, and this immediately convinced Taylor. He ran to Ronald and tried to pick him up with the other two.
“NO,” Ronald said, trying to push them away, but they were with three. “NO!”
“He is going to cry, hurry up,” Martin said, when they were almost there. He let go of his cousin, who bumped with his head on the grass and started to cry loudly, while Martin opened the door of the coal shed.
When Ronald saw the open door he started to cry even louder, trying to get away even more. Anything was better than going into the coal shed. Then suddenly his mother was there to the rescue.
“What are you doing, first of all you have to be nice and careful with Ronald, and second your not even supposed to go in the coal shed. Get inside, you can be sure your mother won’t be pleased. This is absurd behaviour. No cake for you, nor candy, nor playing with Ronnie’s toys. The rest of today your going to sit in the living room being silent,” she raged. Pushing them away from the shed. Reluctantly they went back to the house, and when they were almost there, Martin whispered to Taylor:
“We didn’t get Ronnie in the shed, so you also won’t get to play with my race car.”
“That’s mean, you promis,” Taylor said, but Martin just stuck out his tongue.
Near the shed Ronald was still crying and Mrs. Reckford picked him up gently. “It’s okay now, the mean boys are gone.” She closed the door of the shed and walked away, still trying to comfort her son. With teary eyes the boy looked over her shoulder at the coal shed, and when he looked at the hole in the door, he almost stopped breathing from fear. There appeared a single shiny red eye…
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1590869-Story-1-The-Monster-in-the-Coal-Shed