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“No... Captain Underpants... please... wake up... don’t go... no... No... NO!”
Harold Hutchins shot up in bed in a cold sweat, his eyes welling with tears. He tried to steady his breathing and racing heartbeat as rain torrented outside his window.
Just another nightmare...
He wiped his eyes and looked at his bedside clock. The time 2:17 AM shined back at him in that dull, unnatural red light. His mom wasn’t gonna be up for work for another few hours or so, even though it was a Saturday, and he highly doubted that she’d appreciate him waking her up in the middle of the night just because he had a bad dream. It’d be different if it was Heidi, but Harold was 10 years old now! He knew that he couldn’t keep running to his mommy every time he got scared.
But still... he felt that he needed someone to talk to. So he grabbed his walkie-talkie and attempted to call George. It was only when the walkie-talkie failed to crackle to life that Harold remembered that the batteries had finally died a couple days ago, and his mom still hadn’t bought new ones yet. Dang it. With calling George being a bust, Harold continued to try and calm himself down.
“It was just a nightmare,” he whispered to himself. “Everything’s okay...”
But are you sure? A voice nagged in the back of his head, making him shiver. That ‘nightmare’ felt pretty real. There’s only one way you can know for sure...
Harold shook his head and took a deep breath, then climbed out of bed and headed to his closet, grabbing his shoes and raincoat. He knew what he was thinking of doing was incredibly stupid, but... he had to really make sure that his nightmare was all it truly was.
And with that, he climbed out his bedroom window, and headed out into the night, the torrential downpour refusing to cease.
Restless nights had unfortunately become a common occurrence for Benjamin Krupp. He had spent the last three hours tossing and turning, briefly falling in and out of sleep. No matter what he tried, his mind kept racing with a million thoughts a minute, making a full night’s sleep near impossible. And the sound of raindrops heavily hitting his roof certainly didn’t help. He sighed in frustration.
“Screw it,” he muttered to himself. “I’m gonna be up before 5 anyway...” Groaning, he hefted himself out of bed and shuffled in the direction of his kitchen to make himself a very early cup of coffee. The sounds of the coffee pot always managed to calm his senses a bit.
But just as he was about to take a sip, the sound of his doorbell frantically ringing made him nearly jump out of his skin.
“What the Hell?” He murmured, breathing shallowly as his heart hammered inside his chest. He then looked at the clock. It was nearly 3 AM. That’s when his anxiety turned into annoyed anger. Who on Earth would be here at this hour? Grumbling under his breath, he headed for the door, ready to verbally blast the person on the other side. Whoever it was, they better be here for a damn good reason.
He wasn’t sure what to expect when he opened that door, but he did know one thing; the all-too-familiar little boy staring up at him with wide, almost worried eyes was certainly not one of them. His angry face quickly shifted to one of confusion.
“Harold?”
The boy in question was out of breath. Benjamin noticed that he was still in his pajamas, and despite him wearing a raincoat, the poor kid was utterly drenched from head to toe. The two stared at each other as Harold hands fidgeted, almost like he was trying to do something with them, but couldn’t due to how soaked they were.
Benjamin’s stomach sank as the full reality of what was in front of him finally hit.
Harold Hutchins walked several blocks to his house.
In the middle of the night.
During a rainstorm.
Alone.
“ARE YOU CRAZY?!” He yelled after finally finding his voice. Harold’s hands fidgeted more frantically. “What the heck were you thinking walking all the way out here, by yourself, in the middle of the night in this kind of weather?! You could’ve gotten hurt!”
He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to say that last part, but it made Harold’s fidgeting come to a dead halt as he looked up at him.
“I... I...” Harold struggled to speak, starting to shiver from the rain. Krupp sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered under his breath, then opened his front door a little wider. “Look, it’s cold, and it’s pouring buckets. Get in here before you catch your death.” Harold’s eyes were now the size of saucers as he stared back at him, almost frozen in shock.
Did... did he hear him correctly?
“Well, come on, I don’t have all night!” Krupp barked. At that, Harold found movement in his legs again as he rushed inside.
Harold had thought this was gonna be simple; go to Krupp’s house, snap his fingers, know for certain that Captain Underpants was okay, and go home. But he hadn’t counted on how much it was raining outside. In the trek from his house to Krupp’s, he had gotten completely soaked. His fingers were too wet and slippery to snap properly. He was still struggling to do so after Krupp answered the door. And Krupp yelling at him made his attempts more frantic. But then...
“You could’ve gotten hurt!”
He still couldn’t believe those words came out of Krupp’s mouth. Since when did he care about any kids’ well-being, let alone his? And then he took it even further by actually inviting him into his house to get out of the rain!
Now here he was, sitting at Krupp’s kitchen table, wearing one of his old college sweatshirts while his pjs were in the dryer.
“Sorry about the size,” Krupp had said awkwardly after giving Harold some privacy to change out of his pjs and into the sweatshirt. “It was literally the smallest thing I have.” Despite it being the smallest piece of clothing Krupp owned, Harold was still swimming in that sweatshirt. It was long enough to cover his feet, and he had to roll up the sleeves almost all the way up to the shoulders in order for his hands to poke through. But he didn’t really care. It was dry, and it was warm. That’s all that mattered right now.
The sound of the microwave beeping brought him out of his thoughts. Krupp then opened it, pulling out a plastic measuring cup full of milk.
“Here,” he said, pouring the contents of the hot measuring cup into a tall glass, then setting it down on the table in front of Harold. “This’ll help warm you up a little more.” Harold took the glass in both hands and slowly sipped it. Warm milk never really did make him sleepy, but it was certainly doing a good job of keeping him warm.
“Thanks,” he murmured, and continued to sip. Krupp sat across from him, nursing his cup of coffee, before finally looking at him.
“You never did answer my question, though,” he finally spoke up after a moment. “And I want you to be honest with me here... why on Earth would you walk all the way here through a rainstorm at nearly 3 in the morning?” Harold’s cheeks went pink as he set his glass back down.
“You’ll think it’s stupid...” he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. Krupp rolled his eyes.
What kid doesn’t do things for reasons grown-ups think are “stupid”? he couldn’t help but think to himself. My own Mom thought a lot of things I did at his age were. Heck, she STILL does...
“Look, I won’t laugh, okay?” He tried to reassure him. Harold just looked at him skeptically, and honestly, he couldn’t really blame the kid. Not with the ‘history’ they’ve had. He took a deep breath. “If it makes you feel a little better, it’s not school hours, so technically, I’m not your principal right now.”
A thoughtful look crossed the young boy’s face, contemplating whether or not to speak. Finally, he came to a decision and took a deep breath himself.
“I had a nightmare...” he finally admitted. Krupp sighed at this.
“That’s all?” He tried to vocally mask his frustration. “So why come here? You could’ve just gone to your mom like any other kid.” Harold ducked his head a bit.
“My mom sells real estate, so Saturday is her busiest work day with all the open houses she has to do,” he explained. “So she needs all the sleep she can get for that, and would not have appreciated me waking her up in the middle of the night just because I had a bad dream.” Krupp nodded in understanding. His own mother had to be up at the crack of dawn every day to tend to the cows, and was the exact same way when he was Harold’s age.
“You’re the man of the house now, Benny!” she’d scold to him, coldly ignoring the tears in his eyes. “You can’t come cryin’ to me every time you have a stupid bad dream!” And with that, she’d send him back to bed without even so much as a hug.
“And before you ask, I was gonna call George on my walkie-talkie, but the batteries were dead,” Harold continued, bringing Krupp’s thoughts back to the present. Then he looked down at the table, not wanting to look Krupp in the eye. “And besides… my nightmare was about you.” Krupp was silent at this, giving him the opportunity to continue.
“You got hurt... really bad. You wouldn’t wake up no matter what I tried, and I got scared.” Technically, this wasn’t a lie, seeing as Krupp and Captain Underpants were one and the same, even if neither of them were aware of that fact. Krupp was still dead silent, so he looked back up to see his principal staring at at him in surprise.
“You came out here in the middle of the night… because you were worried about me?”
“I had to make to make sure you were okay!” An embarrassed look then crossed the boy’s face. “And I didn’t have your phone number…”
Krupp mulled over this. The few relatives he had (and Edith, of course) were the only people who had ever shown concern for him before. So getting it from one of his students, let alone Harold Hutchins, one half of the duo determined to make his life Hell? It was nearly unheard of! But one question still nagged in the back of his mind.
“While I’m flattered that were concerned enough to come check on me, and I get why you didn’t wake up your mom... why didn’t you just go wake up your dad?” He asked. “I’m sure he would’ve helped you feel better about your nightmare.”
Harold went silent at this, and glanced down at the table again. Krupp started to internally panic at this. He said the wrong thing, hadn’t he?
“My dad...” Harold swallowed the lump forming in his throat. Even after all this time, it was still a hard subject for him to talk about. But he summoned the strength to continue. “My dad lives all the way in Nevada, Mr. Krupp. He and my mom divorced right before I started kindergarten. I haven’t seen him since I was 6.”
Krupp felt his stomach sink for the second time that night as he inwardly winced. Yep. He had DEFINITELY said the wrong thing. He had to try to diffuse this.
“Look... I don’t know if this’ll make you feel any better, but I kinda know how you feel,” he said. Harold looked at him. “My dad isn’t around anymore, either. I lost him in an accident when I was a little younger than you. It was the worst day of my life.”
“Yeah, but... your dad didn’t have a choice. Mine did...” Harold muttered.
“Huh?”
“You said your dad died in an accident, meaning that if he had had the choice, he probably would’ve wanted to stay with your family forever. But he couldn’t.” Harold’s eyes began to angrily well up with tears. “My dad had a choice, and he STILL CHOSE TO LEAVE!” He banged his fists on the table, making Krupp jump. He had never seen the usually good-natured boy so upset before. He had been hoping to make him feel better, but like usual, he just made things worse. But this time, it wasn’t intentional.
“Was it my fault?” Harold was a million miles away now, asking anyone and no one at the same time what he had been silently asking himself for the last 4 years. His eyes were overflowing with tears now. “What did I do wrong? Why was I not good enough for him? Did... did he ever care about us at all...?”
Krupp could only watch as the poor kid proceeded to further break down, his own heart starting to break at the sight. It brought him back to the times when he was in a similar position, hurt and angry. But unlike Harold did now, he had someone to comfort him back then; his father. And there wasn’t a day that goes by that he didn’t wish he was still here. He always knew what to do.
And the next thing he knew, he did exactly what his father had always done for him all those years ago. He knelt down in front of the heartbroken little boy, looked him right in the eyes, and hugged him.
“Harold, I know you don’t like to, but I want you to listen to me just this once, okay?” He said, a lump starting to form in his throat as well. “This is NOT your fault. I know it feels like it, but it isn’t. Grown-ups go through a lot of complicated crap, but they’re usually too stubborn or stupid to explain it to their own kids because they don’t think they’ll understand. And because of this, it makes the kids think that they’re the problem. But that isn’t true.”
Harold looked up at him, tears still streaming down his face.
“Your dad leaving was his own damn fault, and no one else’s,” Krupp continued. “And if you ask me, it’s his loss... because he’s missing out on one talented and amazing kid.”
Harold continued to stare at him, almost in awe. He would’ve easily expected Captain to say something that nice to him, but Krupp? It was too overwhelming. Burying his face into Krupp’s shoulder, he clung to him as he finally let out all the hurt he had buried within him for the last 4 years.
Krupp was a bit uncomfortable at the sudden action, and the growing wet spot on his shirt, but still continued to hug him. He had little to no experience when it came to comforting children, but Harold clearly needed this. So he hugged him as long as he could.
A long while passed before Harold finally calmed down. Still sniffling a bit, he slowly pulled away from the embrace to wipe at his eyes.
“Feeling better?” Krupp tentatively asked. Harold nodded, and gave him a small smile, much to his relief.
“Uh-huh...”
“Getting something like that out of your system always feels good.” He then grabbed the glass of now-cold milk and handed it to the boy, who sipped it gratefully.
“Yeah.”
A small silence followed, broken only by Krupp clearing his throat and standing up, glancing at the clock.
“Um... your clothes are probably dry by now, and it’s getting close to sunrise. We better get you home before your mom wakes up,” he said, before surprising Harold for the third time that night. “Want me to drive you home? It’s still raining pretty hard out there.”
“...Okay.”
The drive from Curmudgeon Boulevard to Vine Street was a short and quiet one, save for the sound of raindrops hitting Mr. Krupp’s car. Only after finally pulling in front of Harold’s house, did the two speak.
“Um... thanks for driving me home, Mr. Krupp,” Harold said. “My mom would’ve laid hard-boiled eggs if she woke up and saw that I was gone.”
“No problem,” Krupp said, then chuckled a bit to himself. “My mother was kinda the same way when I was your age.” He then frowned a bit. “Uh, Harold?”
“Yeah?”
“Think we could keep what happened tonight between us?” He asked. “I kinda have a reputation to uphold at the school, and the last thing I need is your classmates thinking I’ve gone soft or something.” Harold couldn’t help but grin a bit at that. Some things never change.
“I won’t tell anyone if you won’t.” He reassured his principal, who sighed in relief.
“Great...”
“Hey... Mr. Krupp?”
“Wha—?” Krupp jumped in surprise when Harold quickly hugged him again.
“Thanks,” the boy said with a smile after pulling back. “For listening, I mean.” It took Krupp a second to compose himself after that little “surprise attack”.
“...Don’t mention it. Ever,” he said in a very poor attempt to sound tough. “Now get outta my car, bub.” Harold’s smile never wavered as he exited the car, and headed for his house. Now Krupp could’ve easily drove home then and there, but something within him compelled him to stay long enough to make sure the kid got into his house all right. He unknowingly held his breath as he saw Harold slip a bit while scaling up the side of his house, but sighed with relief as he made it the rest of the way up and climbed into what Krupp assumed was his bedroom window on the second floor. He then let out a slightly impressed whistle.
Well, that certainly explains how he and George are able to pull off some of those pranks, he thought to himself. And with that, he started the drive back home.
During that time, he thought back to everything that had happened earlier that night. He still couldn’t believe how... good it felt to comfort Harold like that. But it wasn’t because he liked the kid or anything. Nope. Absolutely not.
But the warm feeling that grew in his chest when he thought back to the thankful smile on the boy’s face was pretty hard to ignore.
And when that same feeling returned after he found an “anonymous” hand-drawn thank you card on his desk the following Monday, he couldn’t help but smile.