← Sleep Tight Stories - Bedtime Stories for Kids
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Narrator
Foreign hello, friends, and welcome to Sleep Tight Stories. Nicole cannot believe this market. It is so loud and vibrant. The woman told her to look for treasure at the center of the market. After she has gone all the way through and made it to the center, she realizes that a lot of time has passed and she needs to get home before her mother misses her. Nicole and the Box in The Barn Part 18 as Nicole stepped out of the garden, everything looked just as she had left it. The scent of freshly cut grass still lingered in the air, and she could hear the distant hum of her mom working out back. The sun was still high in the sky, casting long golden rays across the field. I thought I'd be late, she thought. I must have been in the market for an hour, maybe two or more. And yet here I am, back home, and nothing's changed. For a moment she wondered if she had imagined the whole thing, but then she glanced down at her wrist and saw the bracelet. She ran her fingers over it, feeling the ridges of its looping pattern, proof that she had been somewhere else. And her shirt, damp with sweat, wasn't from cutting grass. It was from the thick, humid air of the market. Now what do I do? She thought. The answer came when she spotted the whipper snipper still waiting for her near the front of the house. She sighed. I guess I finished what I started. The work didn't take long, and within 30 minutes Nicole had trimmed the edges around the front yard and the few bushes near the porch. Just as she turned off the noisy motor, she heard her mother's voice over the last whirr of the motor. How's it coming along? Her mother called. Nicole shut off the whippersnipper and turned to see her mom walking over, wiping her hands on her jeans. Getting there, nicole replied, quieter than usual. Her mother nodded, glancing around at the neatly trimmed grass. Looks good. If we finish soon, we might have time for another treat today. I think there's some Neapolitan ice cream in the freezer. Neapolitan had once been Nicole's favorite before she discovered the ice cream shop near their home in Montreal. That was when she realized just how many different ways you could mix chocolate flavors. That sounds good, nicole said, her voice more enthusiastic this time. Her mom grinned. You look pretty sweaty. You must be working hard. Nicole forced a small smile but didn't respond. If only she knew. After putting away the tools, she headed into the house to clean up. The back porch had a sink, which was convenient for washing off dirt before tracking it inside. She scrubbed her hands, splashed cool water on her face and took a deep breath. Do I tell her? How do I even start? Before she could figure that out, her mother walked in, brushing bits of grass off her arms. Let me clean up and then we'll grab that ice cream, she said. Why don't you get some bowls and spoons? Nicole set two bowls on the kitchen table and waited as her mom rinsed off. A moment later, she walked in with the oversized container of ice cream, setting it down with a playful thud. Are we eating all of that today? Nicole teased. Wouldn't that be something? Her mother laughed, scooping generous portions into their bowls. Nicole took her first bite, letting the creamy mixture melt on her tongue. It reminded her of her other home. She loved ice cream. Then, just as she started to relax, her mother's gaze landed on her wrist. That's a pretty bracelet, she said, her spoon pausing mid air. I don't remember seeing it before. Where did you get it? Nicole swallowed hard. It was a gift, she started. Not from a friend. Well, I don't know. Maybe they could be a friend. Her mother waited. Nicole knew her mother wouldn't be angry, not really. She didn't often get angry at her, except for that one time she snuck out of the house to go hang out with her friends. Her mother went looking for her but couldn't find her anywhere. Nicole remembered the worry on her mother's face more than anything. And, well, she remembered not being able to go to see her friends for months afterward. She took a deep breath and continued. After lunch I did some work, but when I took a break, I thought I'd just go to the garden for a little while and then maybe go through the door just for a minute. It's just so amazing. I almost can't resist. Her mother let out a long sigh and set her spoon down in her bowl. Go on. Nicole glanced down at her bracelet, twisting the leather between her fingers. I went through the door. It was unsettling like before, but mostly I was just nervous. Her mother's face shifted from concern to alarm. No, no, it wasn't anything scary, nicole said quickly. I mean, not really scary. It took me just outside a market. I don't know where the market was or even if it's a real place, but it reminded me of the ones we used to visit in Thailand. It was super crowded and noisy. Her mother took a moment and quietly said, you don't like crowded places? Nicole hesitated, then nodded. Yeah, I don't. Or I didn't. Especially alone. But I went in anyway. And even though I felt a little nervous. I walked through it. I saw so many interesting things and tried new foods. She paused, chewing her lip. And I met an old lady who seemed like she knew me. Like she was looking out for me. It was different than the Oasis. Her mother leaned forward slightly. Different how? Nicole frowned. There was no big message like before, no moment where I suddenly understood something. Her mother's gaze flicked to the bracelet. So who gave you that? Nicole ran a finger over the worn leather. Someone at a stall. Everyone was really friendly, but the weird thing was it felt like I spent an entire afternoon there. I kinda lost track of time. Her mother raised an eyebrow. Uh huh. But when I came back through the door, barely any time had passed. Her mother was quiet for a moment, thinking. Then she gave a small nod. Sometimes time has a weird way of expressing itself when we're in the moment. I get lost in my work or a good book and suddenly hours have passed. Nicole tilted her head. It feels more like a video game than real life. It's strange. Her mother tapped her fingers against the table, staring at Nicole for a long moment before finally speaking. I don't know what's more surprising. The fact that you went through the door again or that you're sitting here telling me about it so casually. Nicole shifted in her seat. I told you I'd tell you all about stuff. I appreciate that, her mother said, her voice softening. I do. But Nicole, I asked you to wait to take a break. Not because I want to take the fun out of it for you, but because this is. She exhaled, shaking her head. This is so far beyond anything I ever expected when we moved here. And I don't know what it all means yet. Nicole ran a finger over the rim of her bowl. I don't either. Her mother leaned forward. That's exactly why we need to slow down. You're stepping into places we don't understand with people we don't know. And we don't have any way of knowing if it's truly safe. You say it felt like hours, but barely any time passed here. What if next time it's different? What if you come back and more time has passed here? What if you come back and I'm the one who's gone? Nicole blinked at her mom. I'm not saying this to scare you, her mother continued shaking her head. But you can't just wander off through a magical door into who knows where without telling me first. It's not just about rules, Nicole. It's about trust. If you were gone and I went looking for you. I wouldn't know where to look. I need to know that you're okay. That you're safe. Nicole swallowed, guilt creeping in. She hadn't really thought about it like that. Her mother sighed, rubbing her temple. I know you're curious, and I know how tempting it must be to keep going back through that door. But at the very least, you have to promise me something. No more going through without telling me first. I need to know when you're leaving and when you're back. Can you promise me that? Nicole hesitated, but then she nodded. I promise. Her mother studied her for another second, then reached for her spoon again. Good. Because the way I see it, we still have a lot of questions, and maybe we should start trying to answer them before you disappear into another adventure. Nicole glanced toward the book still sitting on the table. Maybe the book has something. Her mother followed her gaze. Then let's start there. Nicole slid the book toward her mother and flipped it open to the page with the illustration of the market. The colors were still bright, like a small phone screen embedded in an old, worn book. She ran her fingers along the edge of the pitcher, half expecting the scents of spices, fruit, and other foods to release from the pages. Her mother leaned in, adjusting her glasses. Does this look like the market you went to? Nicole nodded. Yes, and it felt real. The noise, the people, the food. It was like stepping into another world. Instead of hopping on a plane and traveling around the world, you just need to walk through a door. Except I have no idea where it was. Her mother traced a finger over the illustration, stopping at the tiny stalls and figures drawn into the scene. Look here, she said, pointing at the bottom of the page. Nicole leaned closer and squinted. Beneath the illustration, in the same elegant, faded script as before, was a passage they hadn't noticed before. For those who seek, the market offers more than trade among its path. Knowledge is exchanged as freely as goods. Listen well, and the right voice may guide you home. Nicole frowned. What does that mean? Knowledge is exchanged as freely as goods? Her mother tapped her chin. Markets have always been places where people gather not just to buy and sell, but to share information. Maybe this market isn't just about food and trinkets. Maybe it's a place where people come to learn something they need to know. Nicole thought back to the old woman she had met, how she had nudged her forward, almost like she was supposed to be there. Do you think I was meant to learn something from that place? Her mother turned the page thoughtfully. I think this book is trying to tell us that every place you visit has a purpose. Nicole traced a finger over the illustration. I thought maybe it was to help me be brave, to face things that make me nervous. Her mother gave her a small, proud smile. That might very well be it. Walking through a crowded, noisy market on your own, That's a big accomplishment for you. As they turned the page, another illustration appeared, one that made Nicole's breath catch in her throat. It was the fountain, the same one she had stood beside in the center of the market. The water shimmered on the page, almost like it was moving. And just above it, faintly drawn into the background, was the outline of a familiar figure. Nicole's stomach flipped. Mom, look. Her mother's eyes widened. Is that the old lady? Nicole whispered. The figure wasn't fully detailed, more of a shadow or an impression, but there was no mistaking it. The look of her clothes, the slight bend in her posture. It was the same woman who had spoken to Nicole at the entrance to the market. But why is she here? Her mother murmured. Nicole shook her head. I don't know, but it's like she knew me. Come to think of it, she kinda reminded me of the old neighbor we had in Montreal. I forgot her name, though. That was Mrs. McDonald, a very kind woman. Her mother turned another page, and more words appeared, faint at first, but growing clearer, as if the book was revealing them. Only now the Guides walk unseen, their purpose known only when the seeker is ready to listen. They have walked this path before. Nicole's heart pounded. Mom, does this mean what I think it means? Her mom was quiet for a long moment. Then she exhaled and closed the book gently. I think it means you're not the first person to walk through that door. And that is the end of this part. Good night. Sleep.