Toys In The Attic

Asleep within the farthest corners of the darkest section of the attic sat a box. Alone in the shadows, dusty, worn, and forgotten about, it held the contents of one small boy's happiness. Many years had passed since the box had been opened so it sat gathering dust, the contents of the box going into a deep sleep.

Thirty-two-year old Benjamin Martin, AKA "The Piranha", sat at his large mahogany desk ready to pull out what little hair he had left. He'd just lost the Holding Account, an account that probably could have retired him from the business of importing for good. Slamming his hand down on the desk, he buzzed his secretary, June.

"June! Send in Marcus, now!" he barked.

"Yes, Mr. Martin, right away," June said patiently, rolling her eyes. God, he was a monster sometimes. She switched to line three and Marcus Williams answered.

'Yes, June."

"Marcus, the Piranha wants you and he doesn't sound very happy. Just a heads up," she warned.

"Gee, that's a surprise. Thanks, June," he told her, hanging up the line.

He knew what this was about. The Holding Account. He must have lost it. He gave his presentation, but wasn't as prepared as he usually was, fumbling and grasping at ideas that made the Canadian businessmen look at each other in confusion. Damn! What was wrong with him? This was going to cost the company a fortune. He stood reluctantly, smoothed down his pants, straightened his tie, and prepared himself for the fireworks. He knocked on Mr. Martin's door.

"Come in!" Benjamin yelled.

Marcus stuck his head in. "You wanted to see me?" he asked.

"You have some explaining to do, Marcus! Better yet, don't explain! I want your desk cleared out and emptied in the next ten minutes! Do you understand?" he yelled, spittle flying in his anger.

"You're firing me? After twenty-five years of service, you're firing me?" Marcus seethed in white-hot anger, "You can't do this me! I have a family! A house! I have children that count on me to support them, you greedy, rotten son of a bitch!"

"Get out! I could care less about your family or your house!" Benjamin countered, standing up, "You cost me thousands of dollars today, Marcus! You blew it, you lost, now get out!"

Suddenly, Benjamin gripped his chest. Grabbing the edge of his desk, he fell to his knees, his face a mask of shock and terrible pain. Marcus, stunned at this sudden turn of events, stood with his mouth open until reason urged him to grab the phone.

"June! Call 911 immediately! It's Mr. Martin, I think he's having a heart attack!"

Benjamin lay in the hospital bed, wishing the nurse would hurry with his pain meds. Damn nurses. Lazy lot, all of them. Finally, Marilee, a young nurse who looked like she just graduated from nursing school, entered the room cautiously. She'd been warned about this one.

"Well, it's about damn time! How the hell do you nurses keep your jobs, anyway?" Benjamin snapped. "My pain medication was due fifteen minutes ago! What's wrong with you people?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Martin," she apologized woodenly. "We've been so busy tonight. Two emergency..."

"Never mind! Just give me my pain meds. I could care less about your lame excuses," Benjamin growled.

"Now you listen here!" Marilee exploded, slamming down the cup of water so that it sloshed all over his tray table. "I've had just about enough of your nastiness. Just who in the hell do you think you are?" She stalked out of the room shaking her head in disbelief.

"Hey! Get back here! How dare you leave your patient in pain!" Benjamin yelled. When no one came, he got the hint. He wondered what lawyer to use when he sued the damn hospital and shut it down for good. Regretfully, he wished he’d shut his mouth as the rest of the nursing staff went out of their way to ignore or treat him coldly.

Three days later, Benjamin was declared out of the woods and discharged, much to the staff’s relief. When he walked in the front door of his home, the only sound was the rhythmic ticking of the hall clock. No one wished him well, no one was there to greet him.

His house, a very small Victorian, was old enough to be listed on the City's Historical Register. His great-grandfather had it built according to his own hand-drawn blueprints. Lived in by two generations of Martins, the house was full of warm echoes of the past. An only child, Benjamin's room was a myriad of treasured toys and books. He remembered how it felt to sit on his grandmother's soft, safe lap, feeling the sound of her soothing voice reverberate through his back as she read him Dr. Seuss. A librarian, she had him reading before he was four years old. He grew up feeling treasured and loved.

Benjamin climbed the stairs in the foyer up to his old childhood room, now a guest room. Oh, the toys he'd had! He remembered his old rocking horse, dearly loved, sat over by the window so he could rock and watch the rain falling when he was stuck inside for the day. His brimming toy box, handcrafted by his grandfather, was near the closet. As he stood in the doorway, he could almost hear his mother calling him down to dinner.

"Benji! Wash your hands, it's time for dinner!" she'd call from the bottom of the stairs.

He smiled, remembering his mother's sweet smile and the smudge of flour on her nose. She always caught him, laughing, as he slid down the wooden banister. Her twinkling blue eyes looked as if she would have done it too, if she could.

Looking around the room, he pictured his toys as he had them. On his bed, he had his stuffed tiger, Daniel. Threadbare and tattered, he rescued it from impending doom every time his mother threw it away with Monday morning's trash, claiming it was 'filthy dirty'. He almost laughed out loud at the memory. Set up meticulously on his desk, were his action figures. Superman, Spiderman, Aquaman, Wolverine, and the rest of the X-Men.

One of his favorite games was to load up his Radio Flyer wagon with all of his army men and their accessories and go out into the backyard to the sandpit. Using his imagination came so easy back then! As he daydreamed of a time long past, a noise from above shook him out of his reverie. It sounded like a dull thud, as if something hit the floor above his head.

"Now what the hell was that?" he wondered out loud. He hadn't been up in that attic since his grandmother's passing fourteen years ago. He'd just turned eighteen. Another thud spurned him into action. Something was up there. Probably just a pigeon, or a squirrel.

As Benjamin stood lost in memories, something magical was happening in the attic. Over in the corner, a box trembled and shook, kicking up dust particles that danced lazily through the filtered sunlight of dirty attic windows. Rocking to and fro, back and forth, then stopping. The lid peeped open, revealing two, black button eyes.

"Do you see him?" a small voice said.

"No, not yet," another voice answered, this one growly and rough.

"Keep calling, Daniel, he'll come," the smaller voice urged.

Daniel squeezed his button eyes tight, his stuffing popping through the hole in his tail with the effort. He concentrated with all of his might.

Benjamin felt strange. Almost woozy. He thought about his childhood and wondered when and how he ended up where he was now. Disliked, unfeeling, and unloved. What happened to him? Searching within his mind, he tried to think back to that one instance when he lost himself. Certainly not grade school. High school? Was it there that he turned bitter and mean? No, it couldn't have been. He had so many friends that all he remembered was laughter.

College? Ahhhh, yes. It was there he'd found out that money was the way to a woman's heart. Well, one woman, at least. Angelina Addario. Tall and sleek as a thoroughbred, with a wild, dark mane of hair to match. She was exquisite. Heads turned as she walked. She carried that secret smile on her lips that made men want to taste what the secret was. She knew she was hot, and cared not a whit what others thought.

She drew him in like a fish out of water, and when she was done, she ripped the hook through his heart and threw him back in the sea of life to drown. She took away their life's plans which included marriage, children, and happiness, and replaced them with bitterness and pain.

Benjamin's heart relived that moment, and for a second, he wanted to smash something. The moment passed when once again he heard a thump from up in the attic.

"Who's there!" he yelled gruffly, hoping to sound like he meant business. "You better show yourself, I have a gun!"

He didn't, but they didn't know that. Looking around for a weapon, his eyes fell on his old teddy bear bookends. Made from brass, one swing could probably cause serious damage. Grabbing one, he headed down the hall to the attic stairs.

"He's coming, Daniel!" the small voice piped up again. "Get ready!"

Daniel squeezed himself out of the box and fell softly onto the floor. He could feel the vibrations of Daniel's footsteps as he trudged up the stairs, his ears too tattered to be of any use.

Benjamin slowly and cautiously pushed open the attic door. Peeking his head in, he switched on the light and listened. There! Way in the back, he heard whisperings and soft, hushed sounds.

"Who's back there! Come out with your hands where I can see them!" he yelled, remembering that’s what they said on the TV show, 'Cops'.

Then he heard a familiar sound. A rhythmic, creaking that transported him back in time. Peering into the back of the attic, out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed motion. His old rocking horse appeared to be rocking on its own.

"What the hell?" he exclaimed, walking over to it. His arms broke out in goosebumps. Walking around the horse in wonder, he touched it, sending a spark of energy up his arm. Yelling out in surprise, he tottered backward, tripping over something soft, and landing on his behind.

"Damn it!" he exploded, scrambling to get up.

"Benji."

He stopped on bended knee, looking around wildly. "Where are you? I have a gun! I know how to use it!"

"Benji, you're hurting me."

"Where are you! Come out!" Benjamin looked down, and his heart just about stopped. Daniel? But, how?

"We've been waiting so long for you, Benji! Where have you been?" the stuffed tiger said to the shocked man. "Wow, you're old. How did that happen, Benji?"

“I..I...you..you're...you're talking?" Benjamin stuttered in surprise, crab-walking backward. "Get away from me demon!"

Suddenly, the lid of his old toy box popped open, and Benjamin screamed a rather unmanly scream. Out popped the rope he used when he played Cowboys and Indians. One end hit the floor, and crawling down from the other, were Aqua Man, Superman, and GI Joe. Spiderman shot a silken strand of web down the floor and slid down after them.

Benjamin slapped his own face. "Wake up, Ben, wake up, Ben," he chanted with his eyes squeezed shut. Opening them, he was dismayed and scared to see them all there, studying him in utter bewilderment.

"That’s Benji?" Spider-Man said to Daniel. "But he's old."

"Yes, and his hair is gray, too." Daniel observed.

"And what's worse, he's changed," Daniel said, patting his chest, "here."

As the toys studied him, Benjamin's fear slowly faded to disbelief. He had to be dreaming, of course. He laughed out loud, managing to sound somewhat insane.

"Why are you in my dream?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"You're not dreaming, Benji, we've been waiting for you. All these years," answered Daniel. "You put us away one day and just never came back. How come? Didn’t you love us anymore?"

"This is preposterous! Why you're no more alive than I am..." his voice trailed off.

"Young?" the tiger finished.

"But you can't be alive! It's just not possible!" Benjamin insisted.

"Why not? We were alive when you were a boy, why not now? What's changed? I never told anyone, by the way," a tiny voice piped in from within the box. Out popped the Skipper Barbie doll he stole from little Elizabeth Arden, down the street. Benjamin blushed. She was a secret, and the fact that she somehow knew, well, that was just bizarre.

"You toys need to get back in the box and leave me alone," he ground out. "I don't play with toys anymore for God’s sake, I'm a grown man!"

"Is that what happens to small boys when they grow up? They turn bitter and mean?" Daniel asked. "Where did you go, Benjamin? I don't mean that literally, but, inside. Where are you?"

Incredibly, Benjamin felt his heart stir. Where did he go? Thinking back, he remembered poor Marcus Williams. A family man, twenty-five years service, with a remarkable eye for clients. Makes one mistake in his whole career, and gets fired? He closed his eyes in shame.

"Okay, okay, I admit I haven't exactly been Mr. Congeniality, but I'm a businessman! I make money! It's what I do," he told them.

"At the expense of others?" Daniel asked. "When was the last time you had fun. Do you even know?"

"Well, er, let's see," Benjamin thought. But he couldn't for the life of him remember the last time.

"Let's play, Benji? Want to?" pleaded the toys.

"I can't." Benjamin answered, hanging his head "I forgot how."

"Look inside, Benji. Remember." Daniel said softly.

Benjamin closed his eyes and thought back to a time when smiles came as easily as a summer breeze. He thought he could almost hear a ghostly whisper of his own carefree laughter. That kind of spontaneous laughter that makes your face scrunch up and your tummy hurt.

"Pick me up, Benji!" Daniel whispered urgently, knowing that his boy was almost there.

Benjamin did, feeling the familiar softness and comfort of his favorite toy. The others watched, joyful, as tears streamed down his face. All the memories came flooding back. His child emerged and he had forgotten how lovely it was to just be himself. He went to the toy box and took all of his toys out. His diecast cars, a glow in the dark butterfly yo-yo he was once so good at. His marble collection! Laughing out loud, he once again marveled at the awesome colors of the cat's eye marble and the huge poppers. He remembered trading three marbles for one big popper. Digging deeper into the box as he held Daniel with one hand, he pulled his magic eight ball.

"I'd forgotten about this!" he exclaimed happily. "Is this just a dream?" he asked, shaking the ball and then looking in the little window. "Better not tell you now." was the reply. He laughed joyously and reached inside again. This time, he had his Pez candy dispenser. His was Donald Duck, but in truth, he was always disappointed that he didn't get Goofy. He opened it, and was shocked to find a tiny rectangular candy, just one, sitting inside. Shrugging his shoulders in an 'I don't care' gesture, he popped it in his mouth. Feeling around the bottom of the box, he felt a familiar cylinder-like shape.

"My Barrel of Monkeys!" he shouted, pulling out the blue barrel. He immediately opened it and dumped the monkeys with the hook-shaped arms onto the floor. Twelve in all. Chuckling, he tried to hook them all. Succeeding, he shouted, "Yeah!", throwing his arms up.

"You're doing it, Benji! You've come back!" Daniel told him. "Stay with us!"

At those words, Benjamin sobered. "You don't understand, Daniel. I'm a grown-up now. I can't come up here anymore. I have to do grown-up things like go to work and earn a living."

"Did it hurt?" asked the stuffed tiger.

"Did what hurt?" he asked.

"Growing up?"

"Yes, but not on the outside. It hurts on the inside," he told his toys. "It's almost as if that part of you that believes is taken away. You become 'aware'."

He stood with Daniel still in his arms. Holding the tiger out to look at him one last time and he made a promise.

"I can't come back up here again, Daniel. But soon, very soon, I will send another little child up here to come for you," he promised, placing the tiger back in the box. Picking the rest of his treasured toys, he put them all away.

"Thank you," he whispered. "and remember what I said."

"Daddy! Where's this door lead to?" four-year-old Kevin Martin asked, pointing at the door at the top of the stairs.

"That's the attic, Kev. Would you like to see what's up there?" Benjamin asked, winking at his wife, Junie, formerly his secretary.

"Will I be scared?" the boy said, looking up at his father.

"Oh, no, not at all, son. As a matter of fact, I think you're going to be a very happy little boy," Benjamin said smiling. Holding Kevin's small hand in his, he led his son up to see his treasures.