Every night, just after the lamp went dark, something scratched beneath Milo’s bed.
Scritch. Shuffle. Bump.
Milo would pull the blanket over his nose, count to three, then race down the hall to his parents’ room.
“It has claws,” he told Mama. “And possibly seven knees.”
After the third sleepless night, Mama took him to Dr. Jojo’s clinic. Dr. Jojo listened carefully and wrote on a clipboard:
Possible monster. Seven knees. Lives with dust.
“We should investigate,” he said.
That evening he arrived carrying a silver flashlight called the Brave-O-Scope, a magnifying glass and a packet of cheese crackers.
“Are those for catching monsters?” Milo asked.
“They are for detectives who miss dinner.”
They switched off the lamp. At once came the sound.
Scritch. Shuffle. Bump.
Milo grabbed Dr. Jojo’s sleeve.
“First detective rule,” whispered the doctor. “Listen before you guess. Where did the scratch begin?”
Milo pointed to the window side of the bed. They switched on the Brave-O-Scope and searched slowly. A sweater made one mountain. A dinosaur toy made another. A striped sock lay curled like a furry tail.
Then something moved.
Milo squeaked. Dr. Jojo aimed the light. A wind-up penguin marched out, dragging the sock behind it. Its metal key scraped the floor.
Scritch. Shuffle. Bump.
Milo stared, then laughed so hard that he had to sit down. “The monster has two feet and one sock!”
They looked around the room. The curtain moved whenever the window was open. Its breeze nudged a loose marble against the penguin. The marble bumped its key, and off it marched beneath the bed.
Together they put the marble in a box, returned the toys to their shelf and dropped the striped sock into the laundry basket.
“Darkness can make ordinary shapes look enormous,” Dr. Jojo said. “When that happens, a small light and a careful look can help.”
Before leaving, he placed the Brave-O-Scope on Milo’s table for one night.
Milo tucked his blue elephant under one arm and turned out the lamp. A few minutes later, something rustled.
He took one slow breath and clicked on the flashlight.
The striped sock had fallen out of the laundry basket.
“Back again?” Milo said. He carried it away, climbed into bed and slept until morning.
The seven-kneed monster was never heard from again.