Doctor Bedlam and the Chaos Merchants

                                    

                                              
By Paul Riches
                          


                          
He sighs.

                          
The clutter of books and clothes and dvd cases, empty and non-empty, litter his bed, almost covering the blue comforter.
                          
Usually he is so very neat, with little room for disorder, in his tiny haven of a bedroom.  It is a trait he takes pride in, for years untold, and now with his sixteenth birthday just passed by, he is disregarding it wholesale to rebuild all the pieces of his life.
                          
"Why the heckers am I doing this right now?" he gently exclaims as he kicks a box on the floor, than plops down in a chair.
                          
"Because everything is changing tomorrow," he answers, slowly lowering his head and letting his eyes close in relief.  "Because tomorrow the new job starts," he muffles out, "and I don't know if I am ready."
                          
A sigh comes out again and he finishes by stretching his arms around at odd angles, all in the hope of jarring himself into action.
                          
He blinks several times and spies one more box still living under his bed.  Squinting quickly, he babbles, "oh, I forgot about you, my little friend."
                          
Dashing with new found energy, he pulls the box out and drops it onto the mess on the bed.  Flipping the lid off, he gazes inside.
                          
And stops.  And breathes deeply.
                          
Reaching down, he raises into the open air an outfit for a child, one with the pants and shirt sewn together in a very quick manner, making it into a uniform.  The colourful bright red bottom clash wonderfully with the deep purple top but seem at home with the yellow cape, making it into a superhero costume.  A red face mask, one that would neatly go around his eyes and tie quite nicely at the back of his head, makes it a secret identity.
                          
"Hello Doctor Bedlam, we meet again..."
                          


                          


                          


                          
"Are you wearing that outfit again?" his mother asks in an aggravated tone.
                          
"Only for one more day, for one more mission..." Doctor Bedlam replies, shifting one foot over the other.  Not very superhero like, he thinks,
                          
"That's what you said yesterday, and the day before.  Are you going to spend all your summer vacation dressed up like that?"  His mother switches to a stern tone.
                          
"I like being Doctor Bedlam, and saving the day, and, and it is fun."  Doctor Bedlam states, putting effort into now keeping his feet still.  Superheroes don't shuffle their feet.
                          
"You are nine you know," his mother's voice raises, "And this Doctor Bedlam nonsense should have ended long ago."
                          
Doctor Bedlam gives his mother pleading eyes.  But superheroes use their eyes, so it is okay.
                          
"Fine," she waves her hands dismissively, "Are Tracey and Sarah stopping by today?  Again?"
                          
"Yepper!"  Doctor Bedlam shouts happily.  "The Chaos Merchants are gonna help Doctor Bedlam defend the Earth from evil once again!"
                          
"Fine, fine, fine, just be in by six for supper," his mother snaps, then shakes her head.  "And your friends can stay as well, and camp out if they wish.  Again." she sighs.
                          
Doctor Bedlam races out the patio door and yells all the way along the deck and into the deep of the backyard, cape fluttering majestically behind him.  All to save the Earth.  Which in this case is a blue tent living near the trees.
                          
A half-hour later Tracey and Sarah arrive and both are sporting backwards red baseball caps, the official uniforms of the Chaos Merchants.  "Holla Doctor Bedlam!" they shout in unison, grinning.