[ WP ] A child writes a eulogy for a monster .

“ Seems like the right weather for this, does n't it, ” Neil Raymond asked his son. 
 
 The sky was grey and dried leaves skittered lazily across the lawn. Neil bent down and picked two red-tinged leaves out from the narrow hole that he had dug a foot deep. They crunched softly in his hand as he discarded them to the side, and wiped his hand on the side of his pants. 
 
 Brian, a dark-haired 7-year-old stood next to him wearing a pair of kakis, a blue button up shirt and a red clip-on tie. In his hands he held a small, skinny shoe box, on the side the word ‘ Converse ’ had been crossed out with magic marker and over the star on top a piece of masking tape read ‘ Monster. ’ He looked up at his father and asked, “ Do I just start talking? ” 
 
 “ Whenever you ’ re ready, buddy, ” Neil responded, placing a hand on his son ’ s shoulder. 
 
 Brian looked down at the box and then at Neil, “ Can you hold it? I need to read my apology. ” 
 
 Neil smiled, “ Eulogy, bud, you ’ re reading a eulogy. ” He took the box and held it against his side as he waited for his son to produce his piece of paper. Brian dug through his pants pockets, the familiar sound of Lego clattering together competing with the rustling leaves. Finally he is holding a hastily-folded piece of paper with the scratchy handwriting Neil was so used to checking over for errors. 
 
 Brian fiddled with his tie, making it more crooked than before; he cleared his throat and began to read “ Today we are here to bury the monster from my room. Mom and dad said it was just my imagination, but it was just real good at hiding. It was too smart to get caught in the mouse traps and it only came out when it was real dark. It would wake me up scratching on the walls and moving stuff under my bed but would stop when I turned the lights on. ” 
 
 A few drops of rain dotted his paper and the wind started to come in stronger gusts. “ Sorry, Brian, we might want to wrap this up pretty quick here, ” Neil suggested. 
 
 “ Ok, dad, ” Brian said with a little disappointment. He cleared his throat again, “ I guess from now on I don ’ t have to be afraid of monsters in my room, because I know how to get ‘ em. They don ’ t expect it when it ’ s still dark. So long, monster; sorry I had to kill you. ” He folded his paper back up and walked over to Neil, taking the box back. 
 
 The box fell into the hole with a thud and Brian pushed the now wet dirt on top, stomping on the mound and leaving size three-and-a-half prints. His father laughed slightly, “ Leave it to you to get filthy no matter what. Let ’ s go in and get cleaned up, mom will be home soon. You did a wonderful job. ” 
 
 - 
 
 Neil stood at the sink washing his hands and looking out at the small patch of flattened dirt outside the window. As he was drying them off he heard the front door close and his wife walking into the kitchen. “ Give me a hand putting these away, will you? ” Wendy asked, setting down two heavy canvass bags of groceries. “ How did everything go? ” 
 
 After thinking for a moment Neil said “ You know it went really well. I thought that what he wrote was pretty nice but he had to skip a bit when it started raining. He still has it written down, I ’ ll have him read it to you after his bath. ” 
 
 “ After his bath? Did n't he take one before getting all dressed up, ” Wendy asked surprised. 
 
 Neil laughed, “ You know your son, if there ’ s dirt to be had he ’ ll make sure he has it. I've got his pants soaking downstairs. ” 
 
 “ It looks like he ’ s not the only one, ” Wendy said, pointing to the side of his paints. “ What is that, tree sap? ” 
 
 Neil looked down to see a dark green stain on the side of his pants, smeared just below his pocket, looking like it had dripped down when it was wet. Touching it with his hand it was slightly tacky and stayed on his fingers. “ I don ’ t know, ” he said, bringing his fingers up to his nose. After a sniff he cringed, almost retching. “ Whatever it is it smells like rotten meat. ” 
 
 “ You probably did it when you took out the trash when I left. You better go put them in with Brian ’ s pants. I ’ ll get started on dinner. ” Wendy put away the last of the groceries and put a pot of water on the stove. 
 
 - 
 
 Neil scrubbed away at the dark stain while more water ran into the laundry sink. ‘ I did n't notice any hole in the bag when I got rid of the trash, ’ he thought to himself. Shrugging he tossed pushed the pants under the soapy water, dried his hands and went back upstairs. As he walked past the back door he noticed it was slightly open into the hallway, one of Brian ’ s habits. On the outer knob he saw his son ’ s handprint in that same dark green that he had just been scrubbing. 
 
 “ Well, that solves that mystery, ” said Neil, chalking it up any of the multitude of sticky things a seven-year-old manages to find on a daily basis. 
 
 As he pushed the door closed he saw a piece of garbage tumble across the back patio. Thinking that he forgot to put the lid on the trash can, one of his own habits, he went out after it. It was a piece of cardboard, now blown against the fence. He picked it up and started towards the trash can but stopped when he looked at it. 
 
 One side was filthy, but the off-white strip stuck to the center seemed to repel the dirt. The lettering was unmistakable, across the tape in thick black marker read the word ‘ Monster. ’ 

