My mother says there is a creature under her bed. The first time she heard it the sound came from the bathroom. When she went to look, the creature’s head was poking out of the drain in the tub, the eyes glowing. Later that night when she was in bed, it showed up lying on the edge of her curved mahogany headboard. Staring at her. Again the eyes glowing. The first time she mentioned it, my heart stopped. I believed I was losing her, finally, at 98. Then she said it was a salamander. In southern Mississippi, I thought, that’s possible, so I started to breathe normally.
Last night however, when I spoke with her, the creature had changed. Now it was under the bed. She heard it sneeze.
What kind of creature could it be? It’s not clear, whether mammal or reptile, one does not imagine a sneezy salamander so then it becomes something with fur, rodent-like, I imagine, possum-like, or something from an Ursula Le Guin story.
I imagine my mother sitting in her room 1300 miles away, listening for the creature. I know she is safe where she is, physically safe, but there is no way to protect her from the wanderings of her mind. Those that may frighten her. Perhaps she is simply annoyed by the creature, or frustrated because no one else seems to see or hear it.
I tell my son who is 18, and he laughs, and I suppose it is funny, in a way. The next morning after I talk to her, while emptying the dishwasher, I hit my head on the corner cabinet, wham. It was quite painful and I started crying. I felt like a little child, crying from a fall or a bump on the head, and all I could think about as I allowed the tears to come, was how sad I felt that my mother believes there is a creature under her bed.
My oldest son says today, maybe she does she something that we can’t see. Something from another dimension. Another world. Babies and the very old are closer to their Source than we are, so, maybe he’s right. I just hope she isn’t scared.