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Jason awoke from his sleep in a panic. The dream that had startled him awake had fled out of reach from his memory, and had left behind the feeling of anguish and fear in its wake. He felt uneasy and overwhelmed as he laid in the same spot where he had been resting moments prior, exhausted but too panicked to even think about trying to shut his eyes again. This wasn’t an odd occurrence for the boy. All too frequently, he would be woken up by a daunting dream, feeling alarmed and unable to catch his breath, with the only thing able to calm him down being the kind reassurance of his family. Hoping to feel comforted again, Jason cried out into the darkness of his room.
“Dad!”
The child’s voice, though slightly muffled due to the apartment’s walls, pulled Whizzer out of his sleep in a daze. He turned his head and squinted his eyes to read the analog clock sitting on his nightstand. After taking much longer than he’s willing to admit to read the time, Whizzer discovered it was far too early in the morning. He gazed over to his lover, unfazed to find him still fast asleep. Marvin was a heavy sleeper, Whizzer wasn’t surprised that Jason’s turmoil didn’t wake him up, especially after dealing with it for twelve years of nights beforehand.
“Mmh, Marvin, get your kid,” Whizzer said, muffled.
No response.
“Marvin,” He whispered, harsher this time. Still, no response.
The taller man let out an exasperated sigh and rubbed his eyes lazily. Knowing he had to be the one to deal with the issue, he sat up and nabbed his glasses from his side of the bedside table, making his way towards Jason’s room.
Whizzer peered through the doorway of Jason’s bedroom. There, sitting up, was the preteen boy he had the pleasure of calling his stepson in his bed, where he was supposed to be, but, as expected, something was off. He stared, unblinking, off into the middle distance of his room. One hand was held up to his face as he chewed on his thumbnail, while the other laid at his side, balling up the edge of his comforter to the offbeat of his sharp and uneven breaths. He rocked slightly.
“Jay?”
The boy pulled his hand away from his face to look up at Whizzer for a second of acknowledgement, before quickly turning away to stare aimlessly in the dark of his room once more. The older man felt concerned seeing Jason so distressed, especially since he did not know the reason for the child’s anguish in the first place. How was he meant to help fix the problem when he was unsure of what the problem actually was?
“Are you okay?” he asked hesitantly.
“No,”
Right. That was a stupid question. Whizzer cringed inwardly at himself. Obviously, he wasn’t okay, or he wouldn’t be calling for his dad for help at three in the morning.
He sucked in his teeth and attempted a different approach.
“Do you want me to get your dad?”
This was the first solution to come to mind. Sure, he’d have to pull a grumpy Marvin out of his slumber, but that wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle.
Jason shook his head. “Uh-uh,”
“Okay,” He stepped closer, and with Jason’s permission, sat on his bed. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Second idea. Your average decent parent’s go-to problem solver. Unfortunately, Whizzer was never one to be great at verbalizing emotions, but he’d be willing to try his best.
He shook his head again. “Not really,”
“Okay,” He crossed his legs and sat facing the twelve year old. “What do you want me to do?”
He shrugged. “Anything other than that,” He mumbled.
“Alright,”
He leant back on his hands and surveyed the troubled child’s room. Few things stuck out to him, such as posters displaying previous and current interests the kid had, some he had since let go, others he could to this day talk about for hours. Sitting atop a dresser, there was a tank, illuminating the only source of light in the room. It was surrounded by piles of books, much more advanced than Whizzer could read at that age. Encased in the tank was a small lizard dubbed “Mr. Bungee,” Where the name came from, he wouldn’t tell a soul. On the floor, strewn among the dirty laundry was Sam, Jason’s stuffed seal. They were important, so only him, Trina, and Whizzer on special occasions were allowed to handle them with care. Whizzer rose from the bed to retrieve the seal. He handed it back to the boy, who very gratefully took it from him.
“Don’t want to go without him,” He mused.
“Them,” Jason corrected.
“You’re right, I’m sorry. Them,” He sat back down, running his hands along the thrifted gray sweatpants he wore the nights Jason stayed at the apartment. He turned his focus back to the younger of the two.
“Tell you what, I’ll sing you something my mom sang to me on nights I couldn’t sleep. Sound good?”
Jason nodded.
“I said anything,” He replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Whizzer exhaled softly and smiled gently at his stepson.
“Alright, but don’t expect the performance of a lifetime.”
A smile mirroring his own crept hesitantly onto Jason’s face. Whizzer felt his heart swell at the sight of it.
The older man closed his eyes for a moment and thought of all the times during his childhood where his mother would comfort him using this song. His mind flooded with the memories of dozens of nights parallel to this one, the familiar melody and lyrics sung gracefully as her soft hands would comb themselves through his hair. He feels an overwhelming amount of love fill him, for his mother and the boy patiently sitting before him. Wanting to provide the same sense of safety for his stepson that his mother provided for him, Whizzer took a small breath, and began to sing to a song he knew all too well.
“De la sierra morena
Cielito lindo, vienen bajando
Un par de ojitos negros
Cielito lindo, de contrabando.”
Whizzer took a steady breath this time, hoping to either calm, or at least amuse Jason with his favorite part of the song. He smiled.
“Ay, ay, ay, ay, canta y no llores,
Porque cantando se alegran
Cielito lindo los corazones.
Ese lunar que tienes
Cielito lindo, junto a la boca,
No se lo des a nadie
Cielito lindo que a mi me toca.
Ay, ay, ay, ay, canta y no llores,
Porque cantando se alegran
Cielito lindo los corazones.
Siempre que te enamores
Mira primero, mira primero
Donde pones los ojos,
Cielito lindo, no llores luego.
Ay, ay, ay, ay, canta y no llores,
Porque cantando se alegran,
Cielito lindo los corazones.
He wrapped up the song and sighed, turning towards Jason.
“So…” He drifted off, realizing mid-word he didn’t really have anything to say.
He looked at the child’s face, hoping to see any sort of reaction from. While Jason’s expression had shifted from the uncomfortable and anxious look he had before, he sported a new, unreadable emotion on his face. Whizzer was unsure of what it meant.
‘Oh no,’ he thought, ‘did I do something wrong?'
He shifted.
“Everything okay?”
Jason looked up.
“Oh, yeah, I’m just thinking,”
“Well, cut it out,” Whizzer joked, “You’ve thought enough to last a lifetime already.”
Jason didn’t laugh.
“Okay, uh, do you think you can get back to sleep now?” He asked.
He nodded.
“Alright,” He stood up, letting himself run a hand through the kid’s hair one last time. “I’ll leave you be,”
Before he could depart, Jason called out.
"Hey, Whizzer?"
The man popped his head back into the bedroom. "Mhm?"
"What was that song about?"
Whizzer crossed his arms.
Being too tired to go into detail, he simply shrugged and said, "Love."
"Oh, okay,"
"Anything else?" He asked.
Jason shook his head no and yawned.
“G’night, papa,” he said, sleepily.
Whizzer exhaled, leaning on the doorframe.
“Good night, Jason.”