Blanket Fort

It was the middle of the day. The sky was a painfully bright, crystal-clear, shade of blue. Not a single cloud marred its unending surface. The sun was shining over the earth in cheerful rays, but she was not in the mood for it.

The tattered and patched old blanket hung down over the sides of the table. Its colors and pattern faded over time. Why was such a cloth adoring this eating surface? It was clear it was not a table covering as the sides draped down and created pools of fabric on the floor. What an unusual sight if anyone had wandered by it.

But under the table, she had created a warm cocoon. A secretive place she could nestle and hide in. The inside of this cave was warm, covered with more blankets and cushions. It seemed that every pillow in the house had been dragged inside to create a soft nest. A small camping lantern shone a yellow glow in the middle and pushed back the shadows.

There in the back, curled up in a ball, she had cried for a while. The emotions she felt flooded out of her eyes and poured down her face. When there was nothing left, exhausted, she snuggled in and took a nap.

She did not feel refreshed after waking, but a bit of the deepest pain had washed away, leaving her neutrally empty. Crawling out, she made a trip to the bathroom. Staring in the mirror at her blank reflection, she let the water run until the temperature passed through warm to hot. The rough square cloth soaked up the water changing from sage green to a dark hunter color.

She wrung the extra liquid out and rubbed the hot cloth over her tired features. The warmth seeped into her skin. When she finished, her face was a flushed rosy hue. She hung the washcloth to dry and made her way to the kitchen.

Opening the app on her phone, she connected her playlist to the wireless speaker. Soft music began to play as she made herself a warm cup of cocoa, dropping a handful of tiny marshmallows on top. Still not ready to connect to the outside world, she gathered up supplies and returned to the safety of her fort.

The box of crayons was new. The range of colors standing in rows with their fresh points unflattened was a beautiful sight. Opening her coloring book, she pulled the first colored stick across the page. She watched the color merge with the paper as she followed the lines and patterns of the design.

There was a sudden knocking sound on the table above her. It startled her out of the blissful peace she was working to create.

“Yes?” she called out in a tiny voice, stiff from disuse and strained from crying.

“May I come in?” a low, rough voice rumbled out. A moment later a bearded face poked through flaps of blankets. A soft smile played gently on his lips, but a concerned sadness shone from his eyes. “Please?” he whispered as softly as his rocky voice would allow.

“Yes, you may,” she sighed. “But on one condition.”

His eyebrows raised slightly, silently questioning.

“Bring the Oreos, that I hid on top of the fridge, with you.”

He chuckled faintly before ducking back out to retrieve the cookies.

Once the large man was settled into the cushions, the space did not seem so cavernous. There was a pleasant warmth that radiated off of him. It made the space feel cozier than it was before he entered.

“Come here, Boo.” The man opened his arms as wide as the space would allow, motioning with his fingers for her to bring it in for a hug. She complied being enveloped into the bubble of safety that was her friend’s embrace. “Want to tell me what is going on today?” he questioned to the top of her head.

“Everything. And nothing,” she whispered out, her words muffled into his chest.

“I understand,” he replied rubbing her back. He said no more and just let her draw comfort from his strength.

They sat in peaceful silence, not plagued by any awkwardness. The kind of content stillness that only close friends can achieve. Ones that are completely comfortable with each other.

With each breath, she drew in his calmness, his strength, and the positive energy that surrounded him. With each exhale, she pushed the negative thoughts, the troublesome voices, and the cloud of fog that swirled around her away. The emptiness she had been feeling began to be filled, slowly.

“Thanks,” She smiled up at him.

“Anytime. You know that.” He rubbed her back soothingly. “Please call me. Text me. Something when you are feeling like this. I am here for you. I want to be here for you. You are not alone.”

“I know. It is just hard to let people in when I get like this,” she sighed. “Thank you for checking up on me.”

“Certainly!” He squeezed her tightly in his giant bear hug. “Now, I don’t know that coloring is going to be my activity of choice, but I am happy to sit here with you while you do.”