Noik and the box full of kisses

NOIK AND THE BOX FULL OF KISSES


It always happened the same way. It didn’t matter who gave it to him, where, or how. Noik kept each one of the kisses he received. As soon as he felt the moisture on his skin, Noik would remove the kiss delicately, avoiding breaking or creasing it. Shielding it in the hollow of his hand, he would take out a small red tin box. Plain red, no decoration at all. Such was his ability that, even though the lid would often get stuck, he would open it using only one hand. He wouldn’t fully open it, of course, he would slide the lid extremely carefully until he managed to open a tiny slit, enough for him to force the new kiss in. Then he would close the box really quickly, with a sharp move, to prevent the other kisses from escaping.

The red tin box that had once had candy inside was about the size of a large matchbox. Noik couldn’t remember who had bought it for him. It always travelled in his right pocket, with the sole exception of the time he was at home. As soon as he got home, Noik would run upstairs, straight into his room. He would climb onto his bed and up there, upon the highest shelf, among his atlases and his books, he would leave the box until the next day.

He didn’t have the faintest idea about how many kisses were inside. A lot, a great lot, absolutely every kiss was there. The cheery ones from New Year’s Eve, the sonorous ones from his aunt whenever she paid a visit, his mother’s red ones, his baby brother’s wet kisses, his father’s rough ones… All kisses since he had come up with the idea of keeping them. He didn’t even know what for.

And that box full of kisses was the cause of an incident that Noik would never forget. One day, after school, something unexpected happened. Noik was, as always, standing on his bed, one foot on a pile of books and one arm rising over his head, positioning his box in place. Then he tripped. It had never happened before. The pile of books fell apart under his foot and he lost balance, bouncing heavily on the mattress. The box of kisses flew from his hand and crashed loudly into the floor, with a metallic cry. Noik stayed where he was, on his bed, very still, recovering from the shock and grateful that he hadn’t hurt himself.

Then he felt it.

At first, he wondered what it was. A moist pressure on his forehead.

And then he felt it again. This time on his cheek.

By the time the third one came, all doubts had vanished. He whipped his head to his right, towards the floor, and understood. The box was there, open. The lid resting some metres away, on the carpet. And all over the room fluttered hundreds, no, thousands. Thousands of kisses!

Noik straightened, astonished. But he hardly had time to admire the sight before a herd of kisses crashed into him. He tried to move, but it was useless. The kisses pulled his hair, pressed on his face, pushed his body completely out of his control. Swallowing a cry of fear, Noik rolled from his bed to the carpet. He could hardly breathe or see anything. He shut his eyes and waved his arms in an attempt of scaring them away. But it didn’t matter how many he managed to remove, there were always more and more crashing mercilessly against his whole body.

Gathering his strength, Noik tried to creep out of his room. It was like swimming against the flow. Whenever he managed to gain some steps, the kisses made him fall and go back. Noik kicked and roared. He held to the furniture, fighting to breathe among the herds of kisses that squeezed his cheeks. With the last of his strength, Noik launched himself towards the door and anchored is legs to the frame. The roaring of the kisses was deafening, like a hurricane blowing inside his room. The kisses made wet chuckles, high pitched whistles, abrupt smacks… Some of them crashed into his ears, so loud that it hurt.

Holding to the dark wooden doorframe, Noik tried to pull his body outside. If he managed to get out of his room, he would be safe from most of the kisses, that kept fluttering around the box. He breathed as deep as he could and focused. Eyes closed, he pressed his body to the wall and crept. When he opened his eyes, he was in the corridor. Most of the kisses had been left behind. Kisses that kissed the carpet, the shelves, his toys… Kisses and more kisses all over the room. They painted the strangest picture the boy had ever seen.

But Noik was too scared to stay there just watching.

With a relieved sigh and renewed strength he ran down the stairs, closing doors behind him and thinking frantically of a way to catch all the kisses. What would his parents say when they arrived home? He sped to the garage. Among the gardening tools and other things, he found a net. Wielding his new weapon, the boy ran to the kitchen and grabbed a series of recipients of different sizes. At last, he breathed deep and climbed the stairs, carrying his new arsenal.

Sure about the fact that he didn’t want to be trapped again, he kept himself far from his room. He opened the doors slowly, and just a bit, letting only a bunch of kisses in, and then closed again and started the hunt, wielding his net all over the room. When he finally caught them all, he secured them inside one of the recipients and repeated the process again, letting more kisses in.

The task took him the whole afternoon. Hours later, sweaty, his arms heavy from the effort, he discovered that most of the kisses in his room were gone and that it was again safe to enter, hunt the remaining kisses and get his box back. Soon he had all the kisses trapped inside the different recipients.

Exhausted from the hunting and still trembling slightly, Noik sprawled himself on his bed. He needed to think. He couldn’t allow such a thing to happen one more time, he didn’t want to face an army of kisses ever again. However, what could he do with them? He thought about it for a long time. What could he do?

The answer came to his mind at the most unexpected time, when he was starting to be tired of thinking and his eyes closed, sleepily. He sat up, suddenly awake, awed by his own idea. Without thinking it twice he started working. First, he sorted the different kinds of kisses in different plastic bags. One for his mother’s, one for his brother’s, his aunt’s, his birthday’s… He knew them all. Once he had finished, he marked each bag, put them all in his wardrobe, carefully sealed, and abandoned himself to sleep.

That evening, his parents found Noik sleeping peacefully on his bed. Surprised by the unusual nap, they woke him up and asked if he felt alright. The boy, still rubbing his eyes, assured he was fine, and then, leaning forward, he returned one of their kisses to each of them. His parents were surprised at the sudden gesture and Noik, realizing their expressions, smiled to himself.

He still had loads of kisses to return, and he didn’t want to keep any of them.