Daddy Called Me Coley Macaroni: A five year old’s retelling

Where are we — I forget.
What time is it — dark.
Listen to mama so you don’t get in trouble — stay quiet.

We have been lying here for so long, why can’t we leave this hotel room? I just want to get off the bed, brother is annoying me. Mama told me that I am tired but how would she know.

Up, up, up. Get up and look out the window,

I hear someone whisper into my ear. It’s my friend Macaroni. She said I wouldn’t get in trouble if I got out of bed. I look at mama and daddy on the other bed; I never call him daddy because I am embarrassed that he won’t like that. I don’t understand why they are so tired. Maybe they will be too tired to yell at me to go to sleep again!

I walk over to the window and then I look back at mama. She hasn’t moved so Macaroni was right. I stand on my tippy toes and look out into the darkness. We are high up, high, high up but I can’t see anything.

Ugh! Why is it so dark?

I don’t really like the dark. I told brother once that I did but I was lying.

I press my forehead against the cold glass and make my eyes skinny, just like Grandmi does when she is trying to read. Nothing. I widen my eyes to be the size of golf balls. Nothing. I hate the darkness. I can’t see anything.
I turned around to make sure I was not in trouble and I noticed something seemed different, only nothing in the room had changed. I saw Dijon Mustard, that stuff Mama put on her hot dogs. It was all over the room and I hadn’t noticed. It is over in the corner, next to the chair. There is a lamp on, bathing this unfamiliar room with muted yellow light.

I can’t stop looking at it. Why does it look so beautiful? I want to touch it. I am going to touch the beautiful light because if I touch it, I won’t ever be in the dark again.

“No Nicole, do not touch that.” Daddy says quietly behind me.
But you have to! You have to, because you want to, Macaroni whispers.
“No Nicole, you will burn your finger if you touch that.”
It will be okay.

I touched the light bulb and then there was fire. The light was inside my pointy finger burning. It made me cry because it really hurt, and it made me cry because now I was in trouble. It made me cry because after I touched it, they turned off the lamp.

So I sat there in the corner, next to the chair and the darkness. My face was wet for a long time but I was not afraid anymore and I did not want to stay awake anymore. Macaroni and I sat there with our legs pulled up to our chests until my tears were dry and my finger stopped throbbing. She sat with me until I realized that I was okay. She sat with me until I realized that she was not even there and that I had been disobedient all by myself. Alone, I realized I could do what I wanted and suffer the consequences, because the pain would go away and I would still have touched a beautiful light.

N.C. Luck
Thank you for reading!

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