By Rick Ryckeley
Fayette County Fire & Emergency Services

It just didn't seem fair that everyone else got a bedroom to himself, but I had to always share my room with Twin Brother Mark. We shared everything: long pants during the winter, short pants during the summer, shoes, socks, shirts and the worst thing was we even had to share our toys. At six years old, we shared everything, even the monster that lived under the bed.

The Under-the-Bed Monster did not like summer thunderstorms. The monster would scurry across the room and hide in the closet before the first flash of lighting was finished. The Under-the-Bed Monster was fast; that's why when we yelled and Mom cut on the lights, she never saw him.

When the lighting flashed across the night sky the second time, it was Twin Brother Mark and I scurrying - to hide under the bed. We knew there was plenty of room there; the Under-the-Bed Monster was in our closet.

Our parents did not believe the story of the Monster. They thought it was just a ploy on our part so we wouldn't have to clean our room. They didn't believe us when we told them the Under-the-Bed Monster had a brother - one who lived in the dryer and ate little boys' socks.

We couldn't convince them that the Dryer Monster was real or the Under-the-Bed Monster was his big brother. They were the reasons why we lost so many socks and didn't clean under our beds. The Under-the-Bed Monster was also the reason we had a Mason jar of lighting bugs in our room at night during the summer. He was scared of lighting bugs too.

Our house sat up on a hill with a back yard that led down to the edge of a swamp. Over the years the swamp yielded many treasures, one of which seemed to be an endless supply of lighting bugs. Every night, just after sundown, our back yard would fill with little flashes of yellow and orange light. Neighbor Thomas and Neighbor Brad would come over to camp out on the weekends just to catch our lighting bugs.

After a dinner consisting of roasted hot dogs and flaming marshmallows, we would use glass Mason jars to catch our little fireflies. We punched air holes in the metal lids using a nail and one of dad's hammers. (We lost more of dad's hammers that way.) Each of us caught ten or so lighting bugs and sealed them in the jars with the lids twisted on tight. Some lit up their abdomens in yellow; others lit the back of their heads in orange, but all lit up our tents at night and kept the Under-the-Tent Monster from coming out.

After a weekend filled with rope swinging up at the lake, dirt clod battles, watermelon seed spitting (a story for the fourth of July) and the great marshmallow war, we took our Mason jar of lighting bugs back to our room. The little fireflies lit up our room at night and kept the Under-the-Bed Monster from coming out.

We learned one important thing that first weekend - if you punch holes too big in the metal lids, you won't be able to go out and play with the neighbors the next morning. No. Your mom will have you spending all of your play time hunting for escaped lighting bugs.

After looking under my son's bed last weekend, it seems that the Under-the-Bed Monster is alive and well. But unlike my parents, I won't ask my son to clean under there. For you see, I know that the Under-the-Bed Monster really exists. That's why - during the summer months - just after sundown, I place a Mason jar of lighting bugs in his room at night. (And for all you nature lovers out there - there were no lighting bugs harmed while writing this story.)

[Rick Ryckeley is employed by the Fayette County Department of Fire and Emergenry Services. He can be reached at saferick@bellsouth.net.]

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