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In the dead of night, Noodle suddenly awoke from a restless sleep, gasping for breath as she lay on her bed in a cold sweat. The nightmare had released her from its icy grip, but her heart was still racing. She took deep breaths and counted to ten to calm herself, but as soon as she closed her eyes, the visions of her dream came back to haunt her, swirling through her mind. Her eyes flew open again, and she laid straight as a board and stared up at the ceiling, willing sleep to come. But it was no use. The memory of the dream was still at the forefront of her mind. She’d never get any sleep at that rate. Kicking off the covers, she swung her wool sock-covered feet over the side of the bed and stood up. Putting on her yellow cardigan over her nightgown and hugging her arms to herself, she trod across the squeaky wooden floor and turned the handle of her door, wandering through the halls of Scrubitt and Bleacher’s Guest House and Laundry. She knew the whole place by heart, having grown up and spent her entire life up until that point working there. Her feet carried her practically automatically, as her mind was still reeling with the memory of her nightmare. She wasn’t walking anywhere in particular, just trying to move around and maybe tire herself out enough to go back to her room and fall asleep easily, but it wasn’t really working.
At some point, she stopped and looked up and noticed she was standing outside Willy’s door. She felt a strange comfort knowing that he was nearby, and although part of her was trying to convince herself that she was too old to tell someone about her nightmare to calm herself down, the other part felt compelled to enter. After taking a deep breath to prepare herself for a little awkwardness, she knocked softly on the door. No answer. Perhaps he was a pretty heavy sleeper. She gently turned the knob, finding it wasn’t locked, and stepped inside.
Willy was sound asleep in his bed, lying still other than the steady rise and fall of his chest. The room was mostly quiet, but Willy’s little travel chocolate factory was softly ticking away as the gears slowly turned and continued to produce fresh chocolate even as Willy slept. The many small lightbulbs lining the mini factory filled the room with specks of warm, twinkling lights, almost like a city during Christmas time. For such a dismal little space, Willy had somehow managed to make the room feel homey and less dim just by having his travel factory and his few other belongings there. As Noodle stood in the center of the room, she almost felt bad for being about to interrupt Willy’s sleep. After all, he probably needed it, what with spending the day out about town selling his chocolate and then having to avoid the police that were out to get him. A lot of running, a lot of dodging, a lot of jumping down into the open storm drains just to hide from the people trying to interfere with his honest business. Not to mention making the chocolate itself and spending time among all the crowds of people clamoring to get a taste. He always seemed really energetic and cheerful, like he never ran out of steam, but even the craziest, most optimistic people like himself probably still got tired. But now Noodle was just standing there feeling awkward, and the dream was still lingering in the back of her mind, so she bit down those slightly guilty feelings. After all, Willy was a nice guy and acted as her friend. He’d probably forgive her for his lost sleep. She plucked up her courage and whispered into the room.
“Willy!”
He didn’t stir, still sleeping peacefully in his bed. Noodle whispered a little louder.
“Willy!”
This time, his steady breathing was interrupted, and he let out a deeper breath as reality started to come to his unconscious mind. He blinked his eyes open and glanced towards the shape standing in the middle of his room, waiting for his tired vision to come into focus and see that it was Noodle.
“Willy, are you awake?” she asked.
“I am now,” he answered, voice thick with sleep. He rubbed his eyes for a second. “What’s going on?”
“I, uh…,”
Noodle stood nervously rubbing her arm. Surely, she was too old to bother people with her nightmares. She should just apologize and let Willy get back to his sleep. But there he was, looking at her with earnest eyes, and her resolve melted. She gave a sigh of defeat.
“I had a bad dream,” she admitted.
“Aw, I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, sitting up in bed. His wild hair looked even more messy now that he had bed head. “What happened?”
Noodle started talking a mile a minute as her feelings bubbled up to the surface and started spilling out. She didn’t look at Willy directly, not wanting to see the concern in his eyes as she spoke. Especially since the dream involved him.
“It…it was you, and the chief of police trying to drown you in that fountain again, and you’re cold and wet with your hair covered in ice and your skin all blue…and then there was Mr. Slugworth finding us out and Mrs. Scrubitt locking me in the coop for the rest of my life and I feel so trapped, like the walls are closing in around me…and then there was you almost getting attacked at the zoo, but this time it wasn’t just one tiger, it was lions and tigers and bears-“
“Oh my! That does sound like a bad dream,” said Willy.
In the dim light of the moon outside the window and the travel factory in the room, he could see little pinpricks of tears starting to form in the corners of Noodle’s eyes. He frowned and kicked off the covers, standing up and crossing the distance over to where Noodle was standing. He turned on the light in the room. Noodle sniffled once, and he put his hands on her shoulders.
“Hey, it’s okay.”
He gently urged her forward and had her sit down on the bed. She sniffled again and Willy knelt down on the floor so he could look her in the eyes.
“Hey. It’s alright. I’m fine, you’re fine, everybody’s okay. It was just a bad dream, Noodle. It wasn’t real.”
“I know. But every time I closed my eyes and tried to get back to sleep, the nightmare would come back. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” Noodle tugged on the sides of her cardigan to pull it in closer to herself.
“Well, what’s something that usually helps you get back to sleep after you’ve had a bad dream or something?”
Noodle was quiet for a moment and glanced up, lost in thought. There had been many sleepless nights at the laundry house, and it wasn’t often that there was anyone to bring her comfort in those cold, dark moments. Usually, she had to comfort herself. After a minute, she spoke again.
“Well, when I was little, too small even to push the laundry cart, I remember Mrs. Scrubitt sometimes reading a story to me to help me get back to sleep. It was the one kind thing she ever did for me, and even that was rare. Just once in a blue moon. Once I was big enough to push the laundry cart, though, all bets were off. I didn’t receive much kindness from her after that. She probably ended up charging me a number of sovereigns over it.”
“Oh,” said Willy, and he frowned and gave a little sigh. “Sorry, Noodle. I can’t read you a story.” Noodle glanced down quietly. But then suddenly, Willy perked up again. “So how about I tell you one instead?” At that, Noodle smiled.
“Yes, please!” she said eagerly.
Willy gave a little grin and then stood up, taking a couple steps back so he could be in the center of the room. He clapped his hands together once and then spread his arms out wide, looking just like a showman, even as he stood there in his knit socks, mailman pants, and white pinstriped button-down shirt with sleeves that were just a bit too long.
“How about one of my many tales from traveling all over the world over the past seven years?”
“Okay,” Noodle excitedly agreed. Willy put a finger on his chin in thought.
“But which story should I tell?” he wondered aloud. “They’re all so fantastical. Oh! I know!” he said after a beat. “You remember when we were at the zoo, and you asked if I had ever milked a giraffe before?”
Noodle nodded.
“Well, this is the story of the first time I ever did that.”
He picked up his hat from where it had been sitting under the bed and flipped it over, reaching inside to pull out a candle. He blew on the wick, which caused it to suddenly ignite. Noodle gasped in surprise at her friend’s magic trick. Willy held the candle out in such a way so that the flickering light could cast dancing shadows across his face for some dramatic flair, much like a child shining a flashlight under their chin to tell ghost stories.
“It was on the African savanna,” Willy began. “I was looking for the finest milks to use in my chocolate, and I’d heard that giraffe milk worked wonders. So I set out across the plains to find a giraffe. And finally, after hours out in the hot African sun, I spotted her; a beautiful giraffe almost twenty feet tall! She was standing out in the shrubs, under the shade of a tree. She had her neck reaching up into the branches so she could eat the leaves. I approached her slowly and I asked her if she’d mind too terribly if I took just a pint or two of her milk. Unfortunately, unlike miss Abigail, this giraffe wasn’t very friendly. You remember I told you she was absolutely furious? Well, I had never seen an angrier giraffe in all my life. She was stomping around and swinging her neck like a club. And there I was, standing underneath her, just trying not to get squished.”
“Were you scared?” asked Noodle.
“Was I scared?” Willy repeated incredulously. “I was terrified! One wrong move, and that giraffe could’ve easily stepped on me and broken my leg or crushed my arm, or worse. But even though I was afraid, I had to keep a cool head. That’s the only way one can get by when in a scary situation, you see. I had to think my way out. But luckily, I always have a few…tricks up my sleeve.” At that, Willy reached into his hat again and held out his hand for Noodle to see what he was holding.
“The acacia mints!” she said in surprise.
“That’s right,” Willy replied. “Just as I was about to get trampled by the giraffe’s hooves, I remembered I had some of these in my pocket. And as soon as I pulled them out, the giraffe immediately calmed down. She ate them right out of my hand and let me scratch her on her chin. That’s how I learned giraffes like scratches almost even more than acacia mints. And I was finally able to get enough milk for my new recipe I was working on at the time. But even though I had managed to escape the danger of an angry giraffe, I was about to encounter something even more frightening.”
“What was it, Willy?” Noodle asked, leaning forward in anticipation. Willy continued, lowering his voice to a hushed whisper to make the next part of his story a bit more dramatic.
“Well, wouldn’t you know it, but I wasn’t the only one looking for a giraffe that day. As I walked away from the tree, I spotted something lurking behind the tall grasses. It was a lion, crouched low to the ground, trying to hunt a giraffe for its pride. But all the sudden I was there, and it seemed like the lion had changed her mind about what was on the menu that day.”
“So, what did you do?” said Noodle, her eyes wide.
“I did what any good chocolate maker or magician would do. I pulled something out of my hat.” Once again, Willy reached into his hat and pulled out a small handful of little chocolates shaped like cat heads. “Lucky for me, I had some of my special catnip chocolates stowed away in my hat that day.”
“Catnip chocolates? Seriously? No offense, Willy, but I’m not sure if those would taste very good,” Noodle pointed out.
“Well, not all of my chocolates are made for humans, you know,” Willy explained. “Sometimes, due to my travels and the many things I encountered on them, I had to make some chocolates that were made just for special precautions. And thankfully, just as that lion charged at me, I was able to toss her one, and she quickly calmed down. I thought I was home free, but before I could slip away, I was surrounded by an entire pride of lions!”
“The whole pride?”
“Uh huh. It seems they were all attracted by the smell of catnip, and soon there were lions everywhere! Luckily I had just enough chocolate to keep them all at bay and they left me alone after that. They seem like scary animals, but give them a little catnip, and they turn into big softies. They’re pushovers, really.”
“Like the Cowardly Lion, in the Wizard of Oz!” said Noodle.
“The Wizard of what now?” asked Willy.
“The Wizard of Oz,” Noodle clarified. “It’s a book by L. Frank Baum. It’s one of my favorites. Maybe, after I teach you to read, I can loan it to you.” Willy gave a soft smile and hummed thoughtfully.
“That might be nice.”
“What’s the craziest animal you’ve ever had to outrun on your travels?” wondered Noodle.
“Oh, that’s easy,” said Willy. “Of all the wonderful and weird wildlife I’ve encountered on my trips all around the world, no beast has ever been as ferocious or frightening as the Vermicious Knid.” Noodle looked unimpressed.
“The Vermicious Knid?” she said, raising an eyebrow and cocking her head.
“Uh huh,” Willy confirmed.
“You’re making that up. There’s no such thing.” Noodle crossed her arms. Willy scoffed and put a hand on his chest in mock offense.
“I am hurt, I am bruised, I am scorned! My dear Noodle, have you ever known me to lie?”
“Well, no,” Noodle relented.
“Then you’ll just have to trust me. The Vermicious Knid is as real as my hat. I’ve seen one up close, and I can tell you all about it.” Noodle chuckled and shook her head. She rested her elbows on her knees and placed her chin in her hands as she listened to Willy’s story.
“There I was, trudging through the Mallow Marshes of Peru…”
***
At some point in the middle of telling his story about the Vermicious Knid (which was real! Just as real as the little orange man), Willy became aware of the fact that Noodle wasn’t butting in to ask the occasional question anymore. In fact, she’d been quiet for quite a while.
“Noodle?” said Willy, dropping his theatrics. He looked up and saw that Noodle was now sound asleep, curled up on his bed. “Well, I guess that worked,” he whispered. He walked over to the light on the wall and switched it off, but not before casting Noodle a tiny little smile.
“Goodnight, Noodle.”
He knew he wasn’t going to be getting any of his own sleep for the rest of the night now, but he didn’t mind. He had enough caffeinated chocolates to give him energy for the next day anyway. He was just happy that he’d managed to calm Noodle down enough to help her sleep. She was like the little sister he’d never had, and he felt a sense of protectiveness when he was around her, wanting to inspire hope and optimism, and wanting to sell enough chocolate that he could pay off her debts and give her a better life. They still had a ways to go before they could raise enough money to get that taken care of, but in the meantime, at least he’d been able to ward off her nightmares. With Willy, everything was about sweet, even dreams.