She opened the door, and soft light fell on the boy. She grinned. “What’re you doing still up, hon?”

The face peeking over the covers smiled back. “There’s light outside! Is it the boogeymen, ma?”

Her heart skipped a dozen beats.

“Who told you about them?” she said. She hoped her smile didn’t falter.

“I heard they hug you if you meet them,” he said, looking at her meaningfully. “I bet they’d make good friends.”

“No!” She felt her skin go icy cold. “You mustn’t. They’ll— They’ll gobble you up.”

“You don’t know that!” He laughed. “Maybe they just want to make friends, ma!”

“Oh, hon.” Shutting the door, she crossed the dark room, her feet numb and weightless, and sat next to her son.

“They must just be lonely, ma,” he went on, thoughtfully. “With everyone running away from them.”

Suddenly she was just weary.

The boy looked out the window. “I bet I could make friends with ’em.”

The door crashed open!

She looked up in a spasm of terror.

“They’re here!” the boy screamed, delighted.

She screamed too.