18. Jasmine

Chapter eighteen

Jasmine

T he world is silent except for the chirping of a very enthusiastic pigeon in the tree outside. Alex is flicking through TV channels without finding anything he wants to watch. I look around the large living room for something I can use to distract Alex from the sombre thoughts that filled his mind in the ghost bedroom. There is so much for him to do here, with colouring and reading areas dedicated to him, but what he needs now is adult interaction to guide his mind to happier thoughts.

I grab the cushion from behind his back and thwack it around his face. He gives me a look of horror as the remote drops from his hand. "What-?" he begins.

"Cushion fort," I declare, knocking the rest of the sofa's fabric collection onto the floor. This may be a cosy space for Zane to watch films, but for the next hour, it is going to be a grand kingdom. "Hurry up; the dragon is coming."

Alex grins and flops off the sofa into the pile of cushions, making quick work of our defensive wall.

"Oh no, the dragon is here!" I throw the blankets across us and we lie low, waiting for the dragon's first pass above us. "Watch out for the fire!"

We hunker down under the force of the pretend dragon fire, both of us giggling away.

"It's gone past, turning for another pass," I warn.

"Keep him distracted," Alex squeals, bravely breaking cover as he jumps over the sofa.

"Over here," I wave my arms to distract our imaginary foe.

"Watch out!" Alex shouts triumphantly. He brandishes chopsticks he must've pilfered from the sideboard, his stance ready and fierce.

"Ah, here it comes!" I play along, taking the offered chopstick. Together, we duel the imagined beast, our chopsticks like a pair of noble swords clashing in the quiet air. There is nothing quiet about Alex's fighting technique, with dramatic oohs and aahs as he fights.

"Take that, foul creature!" Alex delivers the final blow.

"Victory is ours!" I declare, the imaginary dragon is defeated beneath the might of our chopsticks. With the threat gone, Alex's face beams with pride, and he steps forward, his chopstick now a ceremonial blade.

"Kneel, brave knight," he commands, and I oblige, bowing my head in a show of respect to this pint-sized warrior.

"By the power of livingroomlandia, I knight thee, Queen Jasmine, ruler of our castle!" His words are solemn, a stark contrast to the laughter that follows.

"Long may she reign," I intone, accepting the title bestowed upon me. Then I grab his hand, pulling him close to tickle his vulnerable tickle spots. "Oh no. We are infected with the dragon's ticklitis."

Alex collapses into me, breathless giggles escaping as he writhes helplessly in my arms.

"There is only one cure, brave knight of livingroomlandia. You must join your queen on a dangerous quest to the land of kitchenaria where we must steal their biscuits. It's the only cure."

"I'm brave," he cries out through his laughter.

"Then let us begin." I release him and pretend to mount my horse. He follows suit and our quest to the kitchen begins.

The hallway is navigated without drama, but the defences at the kitchen doorway require much swinging of our trusty chopsticks.

Finally, the coffee machine is in sight.

"You head left, bypassing that treacherous island, to the fridge to procure some milk, I'll head right for the coffee. We'll meet wherever you think they are hiding the cure." I don't know the kitchen layout well enough to pilfer my own biscuits, but my little bandit accomplice has reached the pantry cupboard door by the time I've brewed a drink worthy of a queen.

"Now we must retreat," I warn, coffee in one hand, the biscuit barrel in the other. Alex nods firmly, armed with a chopstick and a glass of milk. Together, we battle our way back to the living room without sacrificing any precious liquids along the way.

"Guardians might be lurking," I warn, surveying the hallway for any invisible foe. The irony isn't lost on me; here I am, a woman on the cusp of fleeing for her life, now wary of make-believe monsters. But in Alex's bright gaze, I see a heart that yearns for more carefree adventures before his youth is lost to the time-eating monster of adulthood.

"Success!" I proclaim as we reach our sanctuary with our cache of confections. Returning to the safety of our blanket coverings, we help ourselves to the only known cure of ticklitis. The look of joy on Alex's face warms my heart in a way that gives me purpose for the first time in my life. "Take another, just to be sure."

I'm ruining this boy's appetite for dinner later, but when Zane hears of our brave trials, I'm sure I'll be forgiven.

I sip my coffee, relishing the quality of Zane's coffee machine. Alex drinks his ‘goblet' of milk as we toast our victory. All around us, the living room kingdom cheers at our success and, if Alex is to be believed, demands more biscuits, too.

"What queen can deny her subjects?" I permit one final biscuit before replacing the lid and hiding our treasure under the coffee table to forget about later.