Brownbeard stood alone in the chaotic remains of battle. Surely
what had just happened had not really happened. Rather,
Brownbeard was losing his mind. He had no recollection of walking
home that night, or of crawling into bed. But that is where he
awoke. He did not feel so good upon getting up, but bad dreams
can do that to a person. The memories of the nightmare slowly
faded, burnt away by the early morning sunlight streaming through
the thin sheet of cloud covering the sky. Some coffee and breakfast
and he would feel fine.
Brownbeard walked up the stairs to the office. Halfway up the
stairs he ran into Pappy who cleaned and fixed things in the
building.
“Whale jest look at ya!” said Pappy. “Workin’ like a dog tryin’
to impress dem big-wigs. Heh! Heh! Heh!”
“Good morning, Pappy,” smiled Brownbeard. “What are you
talking about?”
“Whadda ye talkin’ ‘bout?” parroted Pappy. “Comin’ in on yer
weekend. Always work en no play fer Brownie is how it is!
Ambitious one ye are, ye are!”
“Come on now Pappy! Don’t give me that nonsense. It’s not the
weekend.”
“Whale,” said Pappy scratching his chin, “den what day is it,
smarty pants?”
Brownbeard thought about that. He was not sure what day it was.
Had not he been working late on a Tuesday night? Was that not
just last night? He ventured a guess.
“Isn’t it Wednesday?”
“Nope, t’aint Wednesday,” said Pappy with a broad smile
revealing a couple of teeth.
“It’s not?” asked Brownbeard in disbelief.
“No, it’s not,” said Pappy.
“It’s not?” asked Brownbeard.
“Ask me again en see if I don’t beat you over yer haid wit dis
here broom stick,” spat Pappy. “If you t’aint prepared to believe
me, go en find someone else in dis here building beside me en me
crew.”
“Huh, walking over here the streets did kind of have a Saturday
feel,” Brownbeard mused.
Pappy chuckled.
“All right! I’m going up to the office Pappy. Enough of this
pulling my leg,” declared Brownbeard.
“Go en see fer yerself Brownie!” said Pappy.
Brownbeard was one step past when Pappy turned and poked
him in the ribs with his broomstick.
“Hey!” shouted Brownbeard in protest.
“What happened to yer eyebrow?” asked Pappy.
“What?” said Brownbeard. Goosebumps sprung all over
Brownbeard’s back and neck and arms.
“Yer eyebrow,” said Pappy, pointing at Brownbeard just above
his right eye.
Brownbeard reached up with both hands to check his eyebrows.
“Oh, no,” said Brownbeard more to himself than Pappy. “I don’t
have my right eyebrow!”
“T’aint no big deal,” said Pappy reassuringly. “I got more places
fer teeth den I gots teeth.”
All the details of the night before came flooding into Brownbeard’
s head—the numbers, the swords clashing—everything.
“Have you been to the fourth floor yet Pappy?” asked
Brownbeard.
“Yep.”
“Was everything okay?”
“Bit dusty. Dat’s all.”
“Nothing else,” continued Brownbeard.
“No, nothin’ else,” answered Pappy.
“Are you sure,” Brownbeard asked.
Pappy scratched his head, saying, “No, I t’aint sure I’m sure.
Come to think of it, everything on de fourth floor t’was missin’!
Tables! Chairs! De whole entire floor completely missin’! I walked
right from de third to de fifth floor! Strange, I tell ye,” said Pappy
in a spooky sort of voice.
Brownbeard stared at Pappy. Pappy stared at Brownbeard.
Pappy and Brownbeard stared at each other. Brownbeard turned
and ran up to the fourth floor. The floor was indeed there.
Everything was there. Nothing was missing or out of place. Nothing
was broken. The oak desk Brownbeard remembered being cut in
half was whole. The stove had no deep gash. Brownbeard ran to a
mirror. His face was fine except that his right eyebrow was clean
shaven!
Brownbeard felt ill again.
“So, this is how it is,” he thought. “I’m having nightmares in
which I get up and shave my eyebrow. I’m a sleep shaver!”
Brownbeard looked around. No one was in the office. Maybe it
was Saturday. How could he have not known it was Saturday?
Brownbeard ran back down the stairs passing Pappy on the way.
“Now where ye off to Brownie?” shouted Pappy after him.
“I’m losing my mind!” cried Brownbeard.
Pappy chuckled and said, “Is dat all? T’aint no big deal boy!
T’aint no big deal!”
what had just happened had not really happened. Rather,
Brownbeard was losing his mind. He had no recollection of walking
home that night, or of crawling into bed. But that is where he
awoke. He did not feel so good upon getting up, but bad dreams
can do that to a person. The memories of the nightmare slowly
faded, burnt away by the early morning sunlight streaming through
the thin sheet of cloud covering the sky. Some coffee and breakfast
and he would feel fine.
Brownbeard walked up the stairs to the office. Halfway up the
stairs he ran into Pappy who cleaned and fixed things in the
building.
“Whale jest look at ya!” said Pappy. “Workin’ like a dog tryin’
to impress dem big-wigs. Heh! Heh! Heh!”
“Good morning, Pappy,” smiled Brownbeard. “What are you
talking about?”
“Whadda ye talkin’ ‘bout?” parroted Pappy. “Comin’ in on yer
weekend. Always work en no play fer Brownie is how it is!
Ambitious one ye are, ye are!”
“Come on now Pappy! Don’t give me that nonsense. It’s not the
weekend.”
“Whale,” said Pappy scratching his chin, “den what day is it,
smarty pants?”
Brownbeard thought about that. He was not sure what day it was.
Had not he been working late on a Tuesday night? Was that not
just last night? He ventured a guess.
“Isn’t it Wednesday?”
“Nope, t’aint Wednesday,” said Pappy with a broad smile
revealing a couple of teeth.
“It’s not?” asked Brownbeard in disbelief.
“No, it’s not,” said Pappy.
“It’s not?” asked Brownbeard.
“Ask me again en see if I don’t beat you over yer haid wit dis
here broom stick,” spat Pappy. “If you t’aint prepared to believe
me, go en find someone else in dis here building beside me en me
crew.”
“Huh, walking over here the streets did kind of have a Saturday
feel,” Brownbeard mused.
Pappy chuckled.
“All right! I’m going up to the office Pappy. Enough of this
pulling my leg,” declared Brownbeard.
“Go en see fer yerself Brownie!” said Pappy.
Brownbeard was one step past when Pappy turned and poked
him in the ribs with his broomstick.
“Hey!” shouted Brownbeard in protest.
“What happened to yer eyebrow?” asked Pappy.
“What?” said Brownbeard. Goosebumps sprung all over
Brownbeard’s back and neck and arms.
“Yer eyebrow,” said Pappy, pointing at Brownbeard just above
his right eye.
Brownbeard reached up with both hands to check his eyebrows.
“Oh, no,” said Brownbeard more to himself than Pappy. “I don’t
have my right eyebrow!”
“T’aint no big deal,” said Pappy reassuringly. “I got more places
fer teeth den I gots teeth.”
All the details of the night before came flooding into Brownbeard’
s head—the numbers, the swords clashing—everything.
“Have you been to the fourth floor yet Pappy?” asked
Brownbeard.
“Yep.”
“Was everything okay?”
“Bit dusty. Dat’s all.”
“Nothing else,” continued Brownbeard.
“No, nothin’ else,” answered Pappy.
“Are you sure,” Brownbeard asked.
Pappy scratched his head, saying, “No, I t’aint sure I’m sure.
Come to think of it, everything on de fourth floor t’was missin’!
Tables! Chairs! De whole entire floor completely missin’! I walked
right from de third to de fifth floor! Strange, I tell ye,” said Pappy
in a spooky sort of voice.
Brownbeard stared at Pappy. Pappy stared at Brownbeard.
Pappy and Brownbeard stared at each other. Brownbeard turned
and ran up to the fourth floor. The floor was indeed there.
Everything was there. Nothing was missing or out of place. Nothing
was broken. The oak desk Brownbeard remembered being cut in
half was whole. The stove had no deep gash. Brownbeard ran to a
mirror. His face was fine except that his right eyebrow was clean
shaven!
Brownbeard felt ill again.
“So, this is how it is,” he thought. “I’m having nightmares in
which I get up and shave my eyebrow. I’m a sleep shaver!”
Brownbeard looked around. No one was in the office. Maybe it
was Saturday. How could he have not known it was Saturday?
Brownbeard ran back down the stairs passing Pappy on the way.
“Now where ye off to Brownie?” shouted Pappy after him.
“I’m losing my mind!” cried Brownbeard.
Pappy chuckled and said, “Is dat all? T’aint no big deal boy!
T’aint no big deal!”
The Adventures of Short Stubbly Brownbeard
Alan J. Levine
* * *
Chapter Seven - Sleep Shaver Saturday
Buy yer hard copy
at . . .
at . . .
Want to support
children's literature?
That's great! But
instead, why don't you
go to the followin'
links to buy yer own
miserable copy of
Brownbeard and
support Pirates
Anonymous? We've
been assisting pirates
with mental health and
hygiene issues since
1633. Brownbeard is
also available to
schools and libraries
through wholesalers
like Follett, Ingram,
and Baker & Taylor.
children's literature?
That's great! But
instead, why don't you
go to the followin'
links to buy yer own
miserable copy of
Brownbeard and
support Pirates
Anonymous? We've
been assisting pirates
with mental health and
hygiene issues since
1633. Brownbeard is
also available to
schools and libraries
through wholesalers
like Follett, Ingram,
and Baker & Taylor.
