The Dream of X and Other Fantastic Visions by William Hope Hodgson

Author:William Hope Hodgson [Hodgson, William Hope]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: Comics & Graphic Novels, General, Fiction, Short Stories, Fantasy
ISBN: 9781892389435
Publisher: Night Shade Books
Published: 2009-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

The Room of Fear

1

Willie Johnson lay in the big bed very quiet and rigid. He had that day come upon his eighth birthday, and in consequence thereof—beginning to be, as his father had told him at breakfast that morning, a big boy—had been promoted from the night nursery and the company of his little sister Jenny and the baby, to the lonely state of a bedroom all to himself.

He had begged hard to be allowed to stay in the night nursery; but his father had teased him for his babyishness, and his mother had negatived his desire with a few curt words. His nurse, Nanny Josephs, had sat with him for some time to keep him company; for she knew something of the fear of the dark in which the little man had lived all his short days; but his mother, chancing to come in to see how he liked his new bedroom, had ordered her out, telling her that she was but pandering to the cowardice of the boy, which he would have to learn to outgrow, and that she considered nurse’s conduct as nothing more or less than encouraging the boy to rebel against the wishes of his parents.

His mother had stayed with him some few minutes after Nanny had gone, and she had improved the time with some sharp remarks upon her little son’s lack of courage, the which, indeed, hurt her in a very tender place; for, above all sins, she held none so vile as that of cowardice. Then she had given him a cold, reproveful, duty kiss—and gone out into the light of the big corridor, closing the little man in alone with the darkness. Yet she was a good woman, somewhat cold-blooded it is true; yet by no means lacking in steady affection. But she was also a very proud woman, and neither the Johnsons nor the Lemots—her own family—had ever numbered the fear-vice among their many others. And now, here had she given birth to a son who was a coward to his little marrow. Yet he should be cured, or—what! I doubt if she gave even a thought to the alternative. He should be cured. There was nothing more. Certainly he should be cured!

She went downstairs and came presently to her husband. To the big, ruddy man she told in a few words her reprehension of nurse’s conduct, and quoted a fragment of conversation that had passed between them:

“I asked her if she thought Willie would grow into a manly boy if she pandered to him in that manner; and what do you think, John, the foolish woman said: ‘I’m thinkin’, Ma’am, as children do see things as we carn’t.’ I ordered her out of the room instantly. No wonder Willie is afraid to go to bed if she talks after that fashion in his hearing.”

Upstairs, alone in the dark bedroom, Willie lies in the coldness of the big bed—a little rigid, human atom, too frozen by fear even to pull the clothes over his face.

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