The Boogeyman

"We have to go home, Shelley. Or the boogeyman'll get us." Ben spoke in an urgent whisper.

"Pft.  Don't believe that stuff." Shelley was twelve, and wise in the ways of the world. Unlike Ben, who was seven and still thought bugs were cool.

"Mum says it's true and that's why we're not allowed…"

"Look," she spoke loudly and quite slowly, because he was so obviously stupid. "It's just a story. They make up stories like that so kids do what they're told."

"But Mum says…"

"Mum says Santa is real, too."

"… he isn't?"

Shelley rolled her eyes and pushed off the ground with one foot, sending the swing into motion again. "Okay, Santa is real. Really real. Happy now?"

Ben didn't look happy, but he nodded. "The boogeyman's real, too. I seen him. Over there." He pointed to the other end of the park, where they weren't allowed to go because of all the bushes.

"You did not."

"Did too."

"Did not."

"I did too!"

"Did not! Infinity!"

Ben knew from hard experience that there was no arguing with infinity, even when it was wrong. He shrugged and made Hulk Hogan climb the chain links holding his swing up.

"Do you ever wish you were… you know." Shelley kept her gaze on the darkening sky as she spoke. "Normal?"

He didn't want to say either 'yes' or 'no' because he knew it was a trick question already. "Can we go home now?"

"Not yet. Let's go look for the boogeyman. I'll prove he isn't there."

"We can't, Shelley," Ben used the voice his mother called 'whiny' when she was mad at him for using it too much. "We have to go home."

"Chicken."

"I don't wanna…"

"Chickeny-chick-chick buh-GUK!"

"It's scary. And Mum's going to be mad…."

"Buh-GUK!"

Ben's lower lip stuck way out for a moment, and then he said, "Okay. But it's your fault. Not my fault this time." It was always his fault, even when it wasn't.

"We're not telling. We'll say you fell off the swing and hurt your arm and it took all that time to walk home because you were crying so hard. Okay?"

"It's not my fault! You say it isn't, or I'll tell about how you kissed Ryan Peel."

"You do that and I'll rip the arms and legs off all your dolls."

"Action figures," Ben corrected her, miserably, clutching Hulk Hogan closer to his chest and sitting still on his own swing since his feet didn't quite touch the ground and he couldn't get it swinging by himself. He was thinking about what would happen if she tried that on the real Hulkster when a noise like the bray of an old trumpet sounded from the other end of the empty park.

Shelley leapt off her swing, swooping at her brother with wiggly fingered monster-arms. "It's the boogeyman! Ooga booga boogaman, comin' to getcha!"

"Shelley! Wait for me!"

Ben struggled down from his own swing, determined to make his sister stop, even if that meant getting a punch in the arm, because he knew the boogeyman was real for sure. But by then she was already vanishing into the gloom and trees, past the yellow reach of the streetlights, to where twilight had begun to cover the park.


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"See? I told you he was here."

He was spidery. That was Shelley's impression, anyway. Spidery and old, like a cobweb with a ghost in it. Even his skin was kind of grey.

Ben was staring at the man, and had gone very pale. His eyes scrunched hard and then opened again. "I wanna go home."

"I think he's dead," Shelley whispered.

"I wanna go home!"

The boogeyman sat up, dry leaves stuck in his wispy hair and beard and all over his grey, old clothes. He turned his head to look at them and his eyes were the same spidery colour as the rest of him.

Ben's legs were shaking so hard he couldn't make them run. Shelley was backing away, pulling hard on his shoulder but his legs wouldn't move so he almost fell over.

"Ben. Ben, come on!"

"No, no, not five hundred, exactly," said the boogeyman in a wheezy voice, climbing to his feet. "Though it feels that way... Hi, kids." He waved, with a grey hand two sizes too big. His feet were big, too.

No, thought Shelley, it's his shoes. He's wearing…

"Clown shoes, that's right Missy. Ain't nothin' to be scared of, I promise you that."

Ben was crying, the kind of quiet boo-hoo crying he did when he had no plans on stopping any time soon. His legs still weren't working.

"You stay away from us, you hear? Stay back or I'll call a cop!" Shelley stepped in front of her little brother, her face red and knotted up. "I know about people like you. You're a pervert!"

The boogeyman's eyes flew wide open then, and then he laughed so loud that birds flew out of the bushes.

"Perv…. Ahaha! I ain't no… Oh, Lordy, I swear, kid…" he was slapping his leg hard. "No, like I said, just a clown. Say…" he bent sideways to peer at Ben, who was still halfway behind his sister. "Hey, you ain't seen an elephant parade have you, kid? Bunch of pretty girls in spangles and tights? Seems I lost me a whole circus, somehow."

"Yeah, right," said Shelly. "C'mon, Ben. Let's go."

Ben wasn't crying so hard now, and thought maybe he could run if he wanted to. But he didn't want to anymore; he'd never met a clown before, not a real live circus clown. He sniffed, sucking a snot bubble back into its nostril.

"How.. how'd you lose a whole circus?"

The boogeyman scratched his beard so all the leaves fell out of it. "I don't rightly know, son. Don't rightly know. But I'll tell you this: if you ever do see an elephant parade comin' through the middle of town, I want you holler my name real loud. Foboz, you got that? Name's Foboz."

"Foboz," Ben nodded, almost sideways because of how hard Shelley was tugging on him. "We don't get the circus here. We're too far away. But if I see one, I'll holler," he promised.

"It's a good citizen, kid, who'll help a clown in need. And for bein' a good citizen, you get a reward." Foboz shoved a hand in the pocket of his baggy trousers, which were almost falling down. He pulled it out again, his fist closed around something that he then tossed so it landed at Ben's feet.  

It was a red nose, Ben saw, like the ones clowns wear.

"Don't touch it," said Shelley.

Ben pulled his arm away from her and picked it up. It was rubber, warm and squishy in his fingers. He turned to look at his sister, "We better go home now."

Shelley made a weird noise and stomped off toward the park, "Don't blame me if you get molested."

Ben didn't know what that meant, but figured he'd better hurry after her. The word 'thanks' was in his mouth, but it never came out because when he looked back Foboz was gone.

They were grounded for a week for coming home so late, and there was no dessert either.

"Shelley?"

"What."

"Told you he was real."

"Shut up, Ben. Just. Shut up."

He left his sister alone to finish her homework and headed upstairs, squishing the red nose in his hand like one of his father's stress balls. In the bathroom, he stood in front of the mirror and tried it on.

"Just an old clown, lost m' circus..." he said, trying to sound wheezy. Ben wore it to bed that night and every night after, until one day it mysteriously went missing from under his pillow while he was at school.

He waited nine years for urban sprawl to bring that elephant parade to town, and with it came a brand new nose.