Flash Friday 23/01/2015: Cookies or Ice Cream
His mother said to pick one treat–cookies or ice cream–but he wanted both.
“But you can’t have both,” Susan said. “That’s what people two times your width do.”
Ben folded his arms. “Don’t care,” he said. “Want both.”
“Why do you think you deserve two puddings?”
“Because I wannit. I can’t choose either one.”
“Well, choose one, and have the other tomorrow.”
“Don’t wanna.” Ben huffed. “Want both. Now.”
Susan sighed. She would have been a lot angrier if she didn’t know where Ben inherited his sweet tooth from. Ice cream and cookie surprise sounded like something she would fix up for special occasions, such as a raise, or not getting depressed over her favourite soap operas, or Tuesdays.
“Listen, you have to choose one, because the only other option is nothing.”
Ben’s eyes lit up. “And then, two tomorrow?”
“No, one tomorrow. Or nothing, again.”
Ben pouted. “Fine. I’ll take the ice cream. Mr. Hare makes much better cookies, anyway.”
Susan was half-way through opening the freezer drawer when she stopped. “Sorry, who?”
“Mr. Hare,” Ben repeated, as if it meant nothing. “He makes them himself. He said his recipe comes from his mum, and his mum’s mum, and his mum before that. They’re really nice.”
Susan turned. “Ben, who is Mr. Hare?”
Ben frowned at her, as if she were stupid. “You don’t know Mr. Hare?”
Susan shook her head. “I’d like you to show me where Mr. Hare lives.”
Susan shone the torch into the closet, peering inside. “And you say it’s where?”
“Behind the trousers.” Ben pointed. “That’s where I usually go.”
Susan didn’t see anything, even with the aid of her torch illuminating the closet. She began to move the clothes to the side, peering at the back of the closet. At first her fears were calmed, but then she saw it; a small portal at the back, behind the trousers. Through it, she could see a small village in a green field. The houses in the village were odd; some were treehouses, some where miniature cottages, and one was a giant boot. Walking down the streets and in and out of the houses were little animal people of all shapes and sizes.
Susan’s worst fear was confirmed.
“Now, Ben.” Susan withdrew from the closet, staring down at Ben. “What are the three rules that young boys have to follow?”
“Always eat your dinner,” Ben said.
“Always do your homework.”
Ben looked to the floor. “…never go through portals that lead into other dimensions that could contain great adventure and self-discovery.”
“That’s right. Do you know what’s through those portals? Quests. Goodness knows they’ll make you do something awful, like…like slaying a dragon, or defeating an evil king, or a wizard. I won’t have my little Ben going out and getting himself potentially killed.”
Ben pouted. “But nobody ever dies on a quest, they told me.”
“I’m sure that’s true, but I won’t have you being the first to do so. I’ve read those stories by those Grimm fellows, I know how some of them might end. I’m going to call the adventure exterminator in tomorrow; for now, don’t use the closet, okay?”
Ben nodded. “Okay.”
“Good. Now, lets get you some proper, human-made ice cream.”
Susan wasn’t sure why Ben wasn’t in hysterics right about now. Perhaps if she saw the closed Book of Fairies hidden underneath the bed, she would have realised why.