← Sleep Tight Stories - Bedtime Stories for Kids
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Hello friends. We first have a message from our friendly sponsors. Did you know that your ordinary house cat might be hiding an extraordinary secret? Susan thought Tucker was just a regular cat until he introduced her to Cat City, a magical world hidden beneath her house. Now she's caught up in an adventure like no other, and it's up to her and Tucker to save the city from danger. In the Rat King, the second book in the Adventures of Susan and Tucker series by Patty Larson, the stakes are higher than ever. Susan is plagued by bad dreams, and without Tucker by her side, she fears something terrible has happened. Tucker, meanwhile, is stuck in Cat City, bound by duty as a gatekeeper. But when Susan is kidnapped, he knows he must act. With the Rat King's forces gathering and an old enemy scheming, it's up to Tucker to rally the cats and save his best friend and their home before it's too late. This story is full of mystery, adventure and heartwarming moments, perfect for readers who love daring heroes, clever twists, and a world you'll want to visit again and again. The Rat King is available wherever you buy your books. Follow the links in our show notes to learn more. And don't forget to tune in to the Rat King Podcast to experience the story in an entirely new way. Hello friends, and welcome to Sleeptight Stories. Nicole is still looking through the book and thinking about whether she has enough courage to step through the door again. Her mom has asked her not to go until they take some time to think think about what happened, but Nicole feels the book calling to her. Nicole and the Box in The Barn Part 16 Nicole took another sip of her tea, nibbling on a cookie as she mulled over what she would do next. She needed the energy if she was going to step through the door again. Tea and cookies had long been a favorite snack for her, though when she was younger it had been milk and cookies. Her tea was still mostly milk. She didn't like the strong taste of her mother's tea. She'd loved milk tea since her mother let her try some at a Chinese tea shop years ago. The thought of going through the door again made her stomach churn. Nicole liked to think of herself as independent, but the idea of visiting strange places full of unfamiliar people wasn't exactly her idea of fun. When they traveled, her mom loved to explore the markets, dragging Nicole along while she loved trying all the different foods. She hated the crowds, and if she got separated from her mom, that was the worst. But the market illustration in the book had caught her attention in a way the other drawings. Hadn't it had been so vivid? Stalls piled high with colorful fabrics, baskets of strange fruits, and jars filled with glittering spices. She could almost hear the chatter of merchants and customers, the clang of bells and people calling out deals. It looked so familiar. Maybe it simply reminded her of those markets they went to. Or perhaps it was something else, something the book wanted her to see, to understand. Maybe I don't have to go to the market, she muttered aloud, staring at the compass lying on the table. Maybe I could visit the pirate ship next. But even that idea made her feel nervous. What if they made her walk the plank? At least that's what happened in all the pirate movies she had watched. No, I'm not ready for a pirate ship either. Maybe I can just visit the garden for a while and see how I feel, she thought. Besides, her mother asked her not to go through the door so soon again. Just as she finished her tea and stood to head outside, her phone beeped loudly, breaking the silence and making her jump. It was a sound she used to live for, back when her phone had been her lifeline to friends and fun. But now, after so much time without it, the beeps felt out of place and intrusive. She glanced at the screen. It was a message from her mom. The weather's really nice in town. Shoulda come with me. I'll be home early, don't forget. I need your help with the lawn. Nicole sighed. If she was on her way, there wouldn't be enough time to visit the garden. Usually the thought of mowing the lawn would have been enough to make her grumble, but this time she felt an odd sense of relief. She wasn't ready to go through the door just yet. Not to a crowded market, a pirate ship, or anywhere. At least not this morning. After making herself another cup of milk tea, Nicole sat at the kitchen table, waiting for her mom to come home. It wouldn't be long. The island was a small place, and in the summer the trips were short. Her mother had often told her stories about winters on the island, especially the ones her dad used to share. He would talk about snowdrifts taller than cars and icy winds that made the house creak. Nicole shivered at the thought. She'd have to walk down their long lane to catch an old school bus in the freezing cold. Winter didn't sound like much fun at all. She sipped her tea, the mug warming her hands. If the house was this cold in summer, how would she survive the winter? The kitchen table offered the best view of all the going ons around the farm. From her seat she could see the garden now shrouded in its soft, mysterious mist. The barn sat in the distance, its weathered boards glowing faintly in the morning light. Beyond that, the fields stretched endlessly, their green and gold tones swaying gently in the breeze. It was beautiful in a way she hadn't fully appreciated before. Nicole's eyes drifted to the book lying open in front of her. The illustration of the market seemed even more alive now, the colors practically glowing against the worn pages. Stalls overflowed with fabrics in every shade she could imagine, deep blues, fiery reds, and bright yellows. Jars of spices were piled high, their golden powders and deep crimson flakes so lifelike she could almost catch their warm, earthy scents. She traced her finger along the edge of the pitcher, pausing at a basket of strange fruits with spiky skins and soft, glowing centers. What would they taste like? Sweet, Tangy, or something? She couldn't even imagine. Her gaze lingered on the people in the illustration, their figures frozen mid motion. A merchant leaning over his stall, gesturing excitedly to a customer. A child darting between the booths, their arms full of something that looked like freshly baked bread. She could almost hear the buzz of voices, lively conversations, the haggling over prices, the occasional burst of laughter. The hum of life seemed to spill out from the page, pulling her closer. Nicole leaned in, looking closer. The longer she stared, the more it felt like the picture was alive, like she could almost step inside. It was like she was looking at a computer screen and not some old book. The smells, the sounds, the energy. It was all there. It's just a drawing, she muttered. But was it really just a drawing? The desert oasis hadn't been. She thought again about the times her mom had taken her to the markets during their travels, and again about how uncomfortable she was with all the noise and the press of people. Her mother used to tell her that sometimes growth came from doing things you were uncomfortable doing. Like when she used to be so scared to get up in front of people. Or when she was scared to fall off her bike. Maybe that was the point. She could do hard things alone. Nicole took a deep breath and glanced out the window toward the garden. The mist was starting to lift, revealing the faint outline of the wooden door. Okay, she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible over the quiet. Maybe I can try after all. Her thoughts were interrupted by the low rumble of an engine. She glanced out the window and saw the familiar cloud of red dust rising behind her mother's car as it drove up the the lane. Setting her mug down, she closed the book got up and moved to the door, her hand resting on the screen handle as she watched her mom's car slowly make its way up the bumpy lane. As the car came to a stop near the house, Nicole pushed the door open and stepped onto the porch, the cool breeze ruffling her hair. Her mom got out, juggling a few grocery bags and her water bottle. You were quick, nicole called out. Her mom smiled, shutting the car door with her hip. Told you it'd be a quick trip. Can you help me carry in some of these bags, please? Are you ready to tackle the lawn like we talked about? Nicole hesitated. Maybe cutting the grass would give her the time to summon up the courage to go through the door again and let the compass lead her to the market. Yes, I guess so, she replied. After helping her mother carry in and put away the groceries, Nicole was handed her the front lawn. Her mother had gone outside while Nicole changed into her shorts. She had ruined her sneakers but saw no need to ruin her jeans, too. The old push mower sat waiting for her by the porch, its metal frame dented and covered in specks of rust. It creaked loudly when she rolled it onto the grass, the sound making her wince. Nicole sighed, glancing toward her mom, who had already disappeared around the house to tackle the larger backyard. The morning sun had come out and the air had grown warmer. Beads of sweat formed on Nicole's forehead almost as soon as she started. The push mower's handles felt hot against her palms, and every few feet she had to stop and backtrack where the uneven grass refused to cut evenly. Why don't we just get a new mower? She muttered, giving the handle a frustrated shove. Or maybe a ride on one. That way I could just sit and ride, which might actually be kind of fun. Despite the grumbling, there was something oddly satisfying about the rhythmic whir of the blades slicing through the tall grass. The smell of freshly cut grass filled the air, sharp and sweet, mingling with the distant scent of flowers from the garden. Occasionally a butterfly flew past her, momentarily distracting her from the monotony of the choreograph. By the time Nicole reached the edge of the driveway, her arms ached. Her sneakers were damp from the dew clinging stubbornly to the shaded grass. She paused, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand and glancing toward the backyard. Her mom was still working, pulling weeds from a flower bed near the garden gate. Nicole pushed the mower back to its spot by the porch, stretching her arms as she went. Mom, lunch break, she called out, her voice carrying over the hum of the backyard trimmer. Her mom straightened, brushing dirt from her gloves. Sounds good to me. I think we earned it, she replied, heading toward the porch. Nicole followed her into the kitchen, the cool air feeling like a reward after the warmth of the sun. Lunch was leftover curry from the night before, reheated quickly on the stove, and thick slices of fresh buttered bread to go with it. Nicole plopped into a chair at the kitchen table, eagerly digging into her plate. Her mom joined her with a glass of iced tea in hand, setting a pitcher down between them. You're doing a great job out there, her mom said between bites. The front lawn looks almost decent again. Almost. Nicole laughed, rolling her eyes. That mower is so old it's practically falling apart. I'm surprised it cuts anything at all. Her mom chuckled. It's vintage, reliable, even if it takes a little extra effort. Vintage is just a fancy word for ancient, nicole teased, reaching for another slice of bread. Her mom smiled, shaking her head. Well, I think we're about halfway done. After lunch, I'll help you finish up the edges out front. Then we can call it a day. Nicole nodded, glancing out the window toward the garden. The mist had lifted, completely, revealing the wooden door standing quietly among the flowers. She knew what she wanted to do after the chores were done, but for now she savored the break, letting the coolness of the kitchen and the warmth of the food ease her tired muscles. After finishing lunch, Nicole felt pleasantly full and a bit sluggish. Her mother had bought some donuts in town, a rare treat for energy, her mom had said with a wink. Sliding the box across the table, Nicole had eagerly grabbed a powdered one with strawberry jam inside. She now had fine white sugary dust all over her fingers and mouth. A good end to lunch. Feeling recharged, Nicole headed back to the lawnmower, determined to finish her part of the lawn. The second half went quicker than the first, her rhythm steady now, and the patches of tall grass disappeared in neat rows. She pushed the mower back to the porch just as her mom came around the side of the house. Looks good, her mom said, taking the mower from her. I'll tackle the back while you trim the front. It shouldn't take too awfully long. Nicole nodded, reaching for the whipper snipper and starting toward the overgrown edges of the few bushes they had out front. She pulled the cord to start the engine, but started looking almost immediately toward the garden. The door stood there, quiet and unassuming, framed by flowers that seemed brighter now under the afternoon sun. She could feel the pull of it, like a magnet drawing her in. She hesitated, running the engine for a moment before turning it off again. Just a quick look, she muttered. It'll only be a short visit, and I can be back before mom even notices. Besides, the apples on the apple tree look like they would make for a great afternoon snack. She left the whipper snipper on the grass as she walked toward the garden. The air felt cooler here, a little fresher, as though the plants were encouraging her. She paused, looking back toward the house. She could hear the faint hum of the lawnmower from the backyard and knew her mom was still busy. Stepping inside the garden, Nicole felt the familiar sense of calm wash over her. The flowers seemed to sway toward her, their colors vivid in the sunlight, and the door stood quietly at the back, waiting. Nicole walked slowly toward it, her hand brushing over the soft petals of a peony as she passed. The compass in her pocket felt warm again. She stopped a few steps away from the door, staring at it as the breeze rustled through the leaves around her. It's just one short visit, she whispered to herself. I'll be back before mom even finishes the backyard. No one will even notice I was gone. But even as she said it, her hand lingered at her side, hesitant to reach for the handle. Nicole took a deep breath, letting the garden scents fill her lungs. The faint hum of bees and the rustle of the trees seemed to urge her on, yet the unknown stretched before her like a vast, unchartered sea. Okay, she murmured, her fingers brushing the cool metal of the handle. Just a short visit. I'll see what the market has to show me and come right back. Her grip tightened, but she didn't turn the handle just yet. She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her courage. What if it's crowded? What if I get lost? What if? Nicole shook her head. No, she said firmly. I can do this. I can do difficult things. Nicole's hand finally settled on the handle, ready to see what lay beyond. And that is the end of this part. Good night. Sleep tight, Sa.