1966 Wild Things

1966

Mother parks the Chevrolet Impala

at the Stongs parking lot.

and shops for food.

Brother and I walk

across the street

to the Dunbar Library.

 

I turn left. Walk to the children’s section.

Books with beautiful pictures stand

proud and tall on the ledge.

Their pages wave, “Pick me. Pick me.”

I lift one, two, three

books into my arms. Heavy.

I sit cross-legged on the floor.

Drop them onto my lap.

Scan and scour shelves for more books

that call to me

with colour and characters

with big words I cannot read

yet.

 

Stacks of books

pile high around me. I open

turn page after page.

One pile to take home

grows taller.

 

I pick up another book.

Flip inside.

A little boy

dressed like a white cat

giggles. Green trees grow

in his bedroom.

I giggle.

I turn the page.

 

M-a-x

Max

in a boat on the ocean.

Smooth sailing.

I turn another page.

 

Monsters. More monsters.

Sharp teeth. Sharp claws.

Monsters burst off the page.

My heart races.

I slam the book shut.

My chest pounds.

 

I stuff the book back onto the shelf.

Where the monsters cannot bite me.

 

2009

I sit in class at UBC

listening as students share their fondness

for Max. For Where the Wild Things Are.

My chest pounds.

Everyone loved Sendak’s story as a child.

I feel embarrassed

to admit my childhood fright.

So I don’t.

********

 

S-ee K-a-r-e-n

R-r-e-e-a-d.

R-ead.

“S-ee D-i-ck r-u-n.

S-ee J-a-ne r-u-n.

S-ee S-p-o-t r-u-n.”

 

See Karen r-u-n.

See Karen j-u-m-p.

See Karen l-e-a-p.

See Karen h-i-d-e.

See Karen sh-a-k-e.

See Karen c-r-y.

 

See Karen r-r-r-un

down the hall.

See Karen ju-u-ump

over the floor.

See Karen le-e-e-a-p

onto her bed.

See Karen h-i-d-e

under her blanket.

See Karen sh-sh-sh-a-a-a-k-k-k-e.

because Monsters growl. Gnash

their teeth.

See Karen c-r-r-y.

because Monsters grab

her arm.

 

See Karen read.

See Dick hit.

See Jane hit.

See Spot cry.

********

 

Monsters live

in my house.

Monsters growl

under my bed.

Monsters howl

at my face.

Monsters grab

at my head.

Monsters mash

at my back.

Monster Mother

at Father.

Monster Father

at Mother.

Monsters

Mother

and Father

at me.

Monsters live

in my house.

********

 

Where the Wild Things REALLY Are

This day Karen

wears her imaginary fairy costume.

Skips and flutters

down the hall

smiles at sunshine beams.

 

Wild things roam.

One monster swings the strap.

Grabs her arm.

Digs sharp claws into tender

skin. Hits.

Till black and blue.

 

Another monster growls.

Sends her to her room.

He follows. Growls again. And again.

Till walls quake.

Monster snarls. Shakes

his big thick hand

in her face.

Fairy squirms.

Monster bends down.

Bites

her low back.

Door slams.

Monster thunders away.

 

Fairy wings crumple.

Fairy legs hurt.

Fairy skips hurt.

 

Karen hobbles outside

away from where

the wild things are.

Hides

in branches of overgrown Laurel

in the back alley.

Eyes close. Chest shudders.

Arms hug knees.

 

This very day

hidden in her hedge

cotton balls grow.

And grow like white bunnies.

Grow until the tangle of branches

all around

becomes a room. Shimmering.

Irresistible. Orbs

of fresh white cotton.

Karen flutters and bounces

on pillows of softness.

Throws handfuls into the air.

Warm whiteness caresses.

Embraces. Gladdens.

Comforts. Safe.

 

Karen drops her fairy wings. Frowns.

Loneliness and hunger

grab hold.

Cold earth penetrates her stocking feet.

Chill seeps in

through her t-shirt.

Envelope of darkness.

Fear enfolds.

Karen creeps across the lawn

into the night of the basement.

Karen tiptoes upstairs.

No dinner.

No one waits for her.

The wild things are gone.

 

For the moment.

 

********

QUOTES:  Where the Wild Things Are, by Maurice Sendak

 

“That night Max wore his wolf suit

and made mischief of one kind

and another

his mother called him ‘WILD THING!’

and Max said ‘I’LL EAT YOU UP!’

so he was sent to bed

without eating anything.

That very night

in Max’s room a forest grew

and grew–

and grew until his ceiling hung with vines

and the walls became the world all around….”

 

 

“And when he came to the place

where the wild things are

they roared their terrible roars

and gnashed their terrible teeth

and rolled their terrible eyes

and showed their terrible claws

till Max said, ‘BE STILL!’

and tamed them with the magic trick

of staring into all their yellow eyes

without blinking once

and they were frightened

and called him

the most wild thing of all

and made him king

of all wild things.”

 

 

“‘And now,’ cried Max,

‘let the wild rumpus start!’”

 

“‘Now stop!’ Max said

and sent the wild things off to bed

without their supper.

And Max the king of all wild things

was lonely

and wanted to be where someone

loved him best of all.

Then all around

from far away across the world

he smelled good things to eat

so he gave up being king

of where the wild things are.

But the wild things cried,

‘Oh please don’t go–

we’ll eat you up–we love you so!’

And Max said, ‘No!’

The wild things roared their terrible roars

and gnashed their terrible teeth

and rolled their terrible eyes

and showed their terrible claws

but Max stepped into his private boat

and waved good-bye

and sailed back…

and into the night

of his very own room

where he found his supper

waiting for him

and it was still hot.”

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