Nightmare

4:30 a.m.

Mama. MAMA!

I drag my weary aching bones out of bed and go to check it out. His eyes are closed. He is tossing and turning, but he never stays still so this is no big deal. Unusually, he is not awake. I lie down beside him. Mama’s here. I’ve got you.

Read the book again mama!

What book, sweetheart?

ZIS book! Read it again mama!

Okay, I’ll read it again in the morning.

He presses himself into me, calms himself, and eventually he settles. When I can no longer feel tension in his little body, I ease out of his cramped quarters and back to my own cool bed. I wonder which book I am committed to reading him in the morning. I hope it’s not The Runaway Train.