A while ago, I was fortunate enough to hear Neil Gaiman speak at George Mason University. He read one of his scary stories, titled, ‘Click-Clack the Rattlebag.’ A little boy asks the narrator to take him up to his room for bedtime. It is a large, creepy house. The boy asks the narrator to tell him a scary story, specifically the story of Click-Clack the Rattlebag. The narrator doesn’t know that story, so the boy proceeds to tell the narrator about Click-Clack the Rattlebag, which has a warped ending.
I figured out how it was going to end before it actually ended, so it didn’t seem all that bad. Of course I was also in a theater with hundreds of people and my husband sitting right beside me. When we got home, my husband camped out downstairs with the kiddos and I slept in our bedroom by myself. After a while, I got tired, turned out all the lights and tried to go to sleep. Except that I could not get Click-Clack the Rattlebag out of my head.
I got up and immediately turned on the bedroom light. Then I turned on the television. I turned on the closet light and the bathroom light. I then decided to turn on the reading lamp next to the bed. And for good measure, I turned on the nightlight in the already lit bathroom, although in all fairness, I do usually have that on anyway so I don’t trip and fall over something on my half-dozen trips to the bathroom in the middle of the night.
Several hours later, I finally fell asleep.
The next morning, my husband found me asleep in bed with the television and all the lights on. I woke when I heard him walking around in the room. “Why are all the lights on?” “I was scared.” He smiled as he walked out of the room. Then he came back. “Were you scared of Click-Clack the Rattlebag?” “Yes.” He left the room again, laughing.
Reviewed by Christina
June 5, 2012