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dizzy_landThe problem, really, was with the lack of a real bed. When he'd realized, after a long day of running around the park eating junk food and shrieking happily on rides with no lines to wait on, that no one was going to come along to make him go to bed, Calvin was exultant. Exhausted, but exultant. He'd bunked down in the Pooh Corner sweetshop in Critter Country; despite Hobbes's sarcastic comments about the Tigger merchandise, it was cheerful and, more importantly, full of caramel apples and fudge and enormous lollipops. He'd slept very well the first night.
The second night, though, the discomfort of the floor didn't seem like such an adventure. Even with a pile of sweatshirts over the two of them to keep them warm. And the big ceramic heffalumps and honeypots suspended from the ceiling of the shop seemed to take on strange and ominous shapes in the darkness.
The third night he realized the great drawback to sleeping on the floor: monsters under the bed, however threatening, were at least under the bed, and you could keep them at bay by hiding under the covers. If there wasn't a bed, though, the monsters were all around you.
After that, Calvin carried out his pile of sweatshirts to one of the cutesy animal-shaped park benches in the main cul-de-sac area of the land. At least there was a below part that you could be above, there.
For the most part, he didn't let the monsters bother him during the day. This was, after all, Disneyland where he was living: there were more important things to do all around him. But every now and then, in the late afternoon, he got a little worn out and decided to take the train that circled the park back from the Tomorrowland Starcade, instead of walking.
When the train pulled to a stop in the Main Street station, the little boy was asleep on the wide green seat, his head pillowed on his stuffed tiger. He'd been out like a light for about three trips around the park, now.
((Closed RP for Susan and Calvin & Hobbes.))
The second night, though, the discomfort of the floor didn't seem like such an adventure. Even with a pile of sweatshirts over the two of them to keep them warm. And the big ceramic heffalumps and honeypots suspended from the ceiling of the shop seemed to take on strange and ominous shapes in the darkness.
The third night he realized the great drawback to sleeping on the floor: monsters under the bed, however threatening, were at least under the bed, and you could keep them at bay by hiding under the covers. If there wasn't a bed, though, the monsters were all around you.
After that, Calvin carried out his pile of sweatshirts to one of the cutesy animal-shaped park benches in the main cul-de-sac area of the land. At least there was a below part that you could be above, there.
For the most part, he didn't let the monsters bother him during the day. This was, after all, Disneyland where he was living: there were more important things to do all around him. But every now and then, in the late afternoon, he got a little worn out and decided to take the train that circled the park back from the Tomorrowland Starcade, instead of walking.
When the train pulled to a stop in the Main Street station, the little boy was asleep on the wide green seat, his head pillowed on his stuffed tiger. He'd been out like a light for about three trips around the park, now.
((Closed RP for Susan and Calvin & Hobbes.))
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