Eyes closed for story time -- (Author) feetintrouble

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Author: feetintrouble
Timestamp: Dec 19, 2020 at 9:45 PM
Content: A story about being made to keep my eyes closed while stories are told.

Last summer, when I was six, I spent a few days with my aunt and uncle, and my cousins, who lived in a big house with a huge garden. Most of the time, we children were left to our own devices, and it was the job of our oldest Cousin Sarah to look after us. She was seventeen years old, quite a few years older than her two brothers, Callum and Zach, and her sister Chloe. She took her babysitting role seriously, insisted that I called her "cousin Sarah", and was a fantastic storyteller: every afternoon before playtime in the garden, we children would sit cross-legged on the grass in front of her, and listen to the day’s tale. She did not read them from a book, but told them from her own head, and she had two rules for story time: one was that we were not allowed to talk (although we could laugh), and the other was that we had to keep our eyes closed throughout the story. Cousin Sarah was very strict about this, telling us that this was important for the magic of storytelling to work; and that if we kept our eyes closed the whole time, the magic would take us into the world of the story, and not only would we hear the words, we would actually be there.

On my third day there, we took our places on the lawn; I sat down wearing my red summer dress (one which I was allowed to get a little dirty in the garden), and as I crossed my legs I looked at my feet, on which I was wearing my brown Mary Jane shoes, without socks, as I liked to do when it was warm. Cousin Sarah had told me that evil magic might make my toes might disappear if I kept wearing shoes on bare feet, but so far this had not happened – I was beginning to notice that lots of “magic” things Sarah mentioned had yet to happen.

“Today, I’m going to tell you the story of the magical wine of a distant land,” she said, when we were all in place: we children on the ground, and Cousin Sarah on a small stool. “Eyes closed, children.”

I watched my cousins closing their eyes: the boys Callum and Zach looked relaxed and serene, but Chloe had closed her eyes so tight that her face looked all screwed up, as if she was trying not to laugh.

“That means you, Jemima,” Cousin Sarah said to me in a firm voice, looking piercingly into my eyes, without blinking. “There’s ice cream waiting for children who keep their eyes closed; anyone who peeps will not be getting any.”

I saw tiny smiles appearing on the faces of the other children as they heard this. I loved ice cream, and I decided that it would be worth trying to get it, so I closed my eyes, and listened to Cousin Sarah telling us the story of a magical drink, and anyone who had drunk it would only speak the truth. As I gazed at the insides of my eyelids, which appeared slightly red as the sun shone through them, occasionally fading to dark and then bright again, I thought about truth and lies. I was at an age where I still loved fairy tales, but I knew some of them were pretend, especially if they were about animals that could talk. I still was not sure about Father Christmas, but Cousin Sarah had told us a lot about how he would only bring us presents if we were good, and believed, and if we always told the truth.

As Cousin Sarah went on to tell us how the king of the distant land decided to make everybody in the kingdom drink the magical drink, so that they would see the truth was nothing to be afraid of, the redness of my eyelids was briefly interrupted by a flash of black, and back to red, and black and red again. I could not help myself: I opened my eyes the tiniest amount, and once the blurriness of keeping my eyes closed for a few minutes had cleared, I found that I was looking directly into Cousin Sarah’s eyes. I swiftly closed my eyes again, but I knew there was no doubt she had seen me cheat.

“So the magical wine had served its purpose, even though not one drop of it had been drunk,” Sarah finished. She then told us to keep our eyes closed, and that she would be giving us each a cup of the magical drink. As I felt the plastic cup being put into my hands, I thought that it tasted like grape juice; in another story, Sarah had told us how wine was made from grapes.

“Now then, Callum, did you keep your eyes closed the whole time?” Cousin Sarah asked.

Callum replied that he did, and Cousin Sarah told him he could now open his eyes. In turn, she asked the other children the same question, before finishing with me. I knew that Cousin Sarah had seen me peep, and I also knew that she was very stern with children who lied, so I admitted that I had not kept my eyes closed.

“The magical drink worked perfectly, then,” Sarah told us. “Jemima peeped; so the rest of you will get ice cream, and she won’t.”

As the other children claimed their ice creams, I stayed where I was, feeling a bit cheated. According to Cousin Sarah’s logic, by opening my eyes, I had broken the magic spell, so the magical drink should not work on me anyway; and yet, I had admitted to opening my eyes, when I could have said that I kept them closed the whole time. Over the years I had always thought that Cousin Sarah was very fair, but now I was beginning to wonder. Later she came and talked to me, and told me that it was all down to me that the others had ice cream and I didn’t. I knew better than to argue with her, because she was much older and would always win, but my pillow was a bit wet before I went to sleep that night.

When it was story time the following afternoon, Cousin Sarah sat on her usual stool, and told me to sit on the ground just in front of her, between her legs, facing away from her. I thought this was a bit funny, and wondered how she would be able to tell if I was keeping my eyes closed: would the magical drink still be working? Once more I looked at my feet (today I was wearing white plimsolls, without socks), and I asked Cousin Sarah why she had made me sit in front of her.

“I think you might need a little help to keep your eyes closed,” she said, as the other children took their positions. “I don’t want you to miss out on ice cream today; and remember, you’re not allowed to talk.”

I wondered what she meant as she told the other children to close their eyes, feeling that I had been singled out. As I closed my eyes, looking at the familiar redness, it suddenly turned darker than usual as I felt the palms of Cousin Sarah’s hands pressing down on my eyelids. Not only this, but she was embracing me with her legs as she sat on her stool, as if she was also trying to stop me running away. I gave a little squeal, but I didn’t speak as I remembered that talking was forbidden.

Today’s story took on a more scary tone, about a fire-breathing dragon which hatched from an egg which a cat had knocked to the floor. This baby dragon flew from one town to another, terrifying people and burning the trees down. As Cousin Sarah told the story, with her usual variety of expressions and very different voices for all the characters, her hands remained very firmly over my eyes, and seemed to hold them shut all the more tightly whenever the story became more tense. I could not open my eyes at all, but somehow this made me feel safer, especially being clasped between Cousin Sarah’s legs. I wondered if the other children were scared; I could not hear any sounds from them. Although I was not sure whether to believe in the “magic” of being transported into the land where the story was taking place, I found that with my eyes held shut, I was imagining all the more vividly the dragon and his surroundings.

Finally the story ended, and although everybody in the tale was now safe from the dragon, he was still out there, ready to strike at any moment. Cousin Sarah told me that she would take her hands away from my eyes, but that the sun was bright, so we should all open our eyes very slowly, so that we would not be dazzled. To my surprise, she told Callum that she had caught him peeping. He seemed genuinely abashed, and I felt sorry for him when the rest of us were given our ice creams, but after that he did not seem to mind at all, and carried on playing with the rest of us.

Then came my last full day at my cousins’ house. When we were sat in the garden for story time, I wore my favourite striped flip flops, which I usually wear on the beach. When Cousin Sarah joined us, this time she carried a small cassette player, and a cloth bag. She was also wearing silver sandals, which sparkled in the sunlight; she had once worn them when telling us the story of the Wizard of Oz, and that they were Dorothy’s silver slippers.

“Today’s story is going to be longer,” she told us, “so I’m going to make it easier for you not to peep: I’m going to blindfold you all.”

There were protests from the others. Callum suddenly looked at me and said “this is your fault, Jemima, you keep peeping!”.

Just as I opened my mouth to reply, Cousin Sarah suddenly hissed “children!!!”, in the tone that we all knew meant business, and we must stop and listen, or else.

“It’s not Jemima’s fault,” she told the group, “it’s because it’s a long story. Now, remember the usual rules: no peeping, and no talking once I’ve begun the story. Callum, you first: stand up, and I’ll blindfold you.” As he did so, looking a little sulky, she pulled a purple bandanna out of the bag which was already folded into a strip, and tied it over his eyes, pulling the ends tight as she made a good knot at the back of his head.

“Can you see?” she asked him; he shook his head. She then turned him round a couple of times, made him take a step back before spinning him twice in the opposite direction, then told him to sit down where he was.

Making the most of my vision while I still had it, I watched my cousins being blindfolded in turn, each with a different coloured bandanna. Zach stuck his tongue out as his eyes were covered; Chloe insisted that she could still see, until Cousin Sarah asked her to tell how how many fingers she was holding up. After they had all been dizzied and told to sit down, Cousin Sarah turned her attention to me. “Up you get, time to blindfold you, Jemima!” she said.

“I’ll keep my eyes closed, you don’t have to cover them up!” I protested cheekily, as I got to my feet.

“Close your eyes if you like,” she said, “you’ll still be blindfolded.”

I took a last look at my feet in their striped flip flops; then I closed my eyes to await my fate. For a moment, I hoped that Cousin Sarah might trust me to keep my eyes closed, but this hope was in vain as I felt the fabric pressing down on my eyelids, and being pulled tight at the back of my head, and a knot being tied, as if my head was being tied up like a parcel.

“A nice good strong knot for Jemima, right over left, and left over right,” I heard Cousin Sarah saying, “and now it’s time for spin, spin, spin!” So saying, she put her hands on my shoulders and turned me round at least four times, before making me step to the side and spinning me again, making me step forwards, backwards, and in every direction I could think of. It felt like she walking me all over the garden, before she twirled me on the spot at least three more times, and told me I could sit down. As I did so, feeling quite dizzy, I realised that I had no idea where I was: I could not see a thing, everything was black, and I was certain she had spun me more than the others. My blindfold was tied so tightly that I found it hard to imagine it would ever come off, and I could not even open my eyes underneath it.

I heard Cousin Sarah sitting down, and I could also hear soft music as she started the cassette player that she had brought out; this reminded me of the story tapes I had heard when I was littler. After reminding us that we were not allowed to talk, and that peeping out our blindfolds was strictly forbidden, she then began telling us a story about a giant, who strode about looking for children who were on their own without an adult to look after them. This giant stole the children’s shoes and ate them, before making the children disappear from where they were, and reappear in a completely different part of the world, so they would have to find their way home barefoot. I trembled with fear at the thought of this happening to me, reaching down to check that my flip flops were still on my feet. I wished I was wearing my buckled Mary Jane shoes instead, which would have been harder for a giant’s big and clumsy fingers to remove.

After telling us the tale of three children who had been caught in this way, Cousin Sarah warned us that the giant could be lurking anywhere; then she told us there was one way we could escape from the giant, and that was if we could tell him what colour bandanna we were wearing, and that was the only word we were allowed to say. I knew what colours the other children were wearing, as I was the last to be blindfolded, but I as I had closed my eyes, I did not know what colour my own one was. I tried opening my eyes as wide as I could, but it was no use: all I could see was blackness. Every time in my little life that I had been blindfolded, I thought it was strange that I could never see the pattern on the blindfold, even if I kept my eyes open, and I cursed my luck that I had decided to be a good girl and close my eyes.

As I pondered this, I suddenly realised there was complete and utter silence around me. I could not hear Cousin Sarah’s storytelling voice, and the background music which she had started with was no longer there. The only sounds that reached my ears were birds singing, and wind gently rustling the leaves on the trees. After a little while, I began to feel frightened: I listened as hard as I could, but I could not even catch the sound of the children around me breathing.

I sat there, trembling a little, thinking about Cousin Sarah’s strict instructions that we must not peep or speak, then it dawned on me that she had not told us that we had to stay still. I tentatively reached out, feeling the ground around me, before kneeling up and waving my arms out to my sides, to feel if anyone or anything was nearby: I could not feel anything, and I was still well and truly blind. I then started crawling slowly forwards, all the time waving one arm in front of me so that I would not hit my face on anything, and I wondered why Cousin Sarah would suddenly leave us alone while there was a shoe-eating giant about; had the giant got her instead?

After I had crawled a few more paces, I suddenly heard a couple of loud thuds nearby; was that the sound of giant footsteps? I stopped and listened, but then decided I had imagined it. But then I got a shock as I felt one of the flip flops being taken from my foot. I stopped dead, and reached back and touched my foot: it was most definitely shoeless. Then I felt that other shoe being taken as well; I could not help myself, and I let out a high-pitched scream. The giant was there, standing over me, and I expected that if he was not content with eating my flip flops, he would start on me next. In a panic, I curled up into a ball, as if trying to make myself as small as possible, and didn’t move. Then I remembered what Cousin Sarah had said about the colour of my bandanna. I had no idea what colour it was, so I started mumbling my favourite colour: “green… green… green...”

I don’t know how long I lay curled up there: it might have been a few seconds, or hours, but then I heard Cousin Sarah’s voice. “Jemima! What are you doing over there?” she said, in an amused tone.

“Over where? I d-d-don’t know where I am, I can’t see anything!” I gibbered.

“You’re right down at the bottom of the garden, miles away from where I was telling the story!” she told me. “You’ve lost your shoes: did the giant eat them?”

“Y-y-yes,” I whispered, still shaking with fright.

“You’re safe now, Cousin Sarah has found you,” she said. “You were a good girl: you didn’t cheat and peep. I’ll sit you on my lap for a minute, and then I’ll take your blindfold off.”

Relieved to hear Cousin Sarah saying this, I felt myself being picked up and held on her lap. “Keep your eyes closed, as it’s bright outside, I don’t want you to be dazzled,” I heard her say, as the bandanna around my head loosened, and fell away, and I could see redness showing through my eyelids. When my eyes got used to the light and I could open them, I saw that we were indeed a long way from the big tree where Cousin Sarah normally told us stories: the giant’s magic must have worked, and I moved me to somewhere else in the world. In Cousin Sarah’s hand was a dark green bandanna, so I had guessed right about the one she had used to cover my eyes. I looked around for the other children, but they were nowhere to be seen; and then I glanced down at Sarah’s feet, and saw that her own silver sandals were missing.

“But… your feet… the giant…”

“Yep, the giant got me too,” she said, seeming unconcerned. “I wonder if my shoes tasted good?”

“Where are the others?” I whispered.

“Oh, I expect we’ll find them soon,” she said cheerfully. “Now, why don’t you come for a walk with me round the garden, and we’ll see if we can find them?”

“But we don’t have shoes on!” I protested.

“It’s summer, we can go barefoot on the lawn.”

Taking Cousin Sarah’s hand, we walked a little way, then suddenly I heard a thud behind me. In a moment of panic I thought the giant was on the prowl again, but when I looked back, I saw my flip flops lying on the ground, and they certainly were not there before.

“Oh, perhaps the giant decided not to eat yours!” Cousin Sarah said.

I looked around, wondering how on earth they would have fallen out of the sky just like that, when suddenly I heard a stifled giggle. Something moving caught my eye from above: I looked up into the big tree, where Callum’s tree house was, and suddenly I saw his legs and bare feet dangling from the doorway.

“It looks like the giant made him reappear up there,” said Cousin Sarah. “Lets go and find the others.”

As we walked around the garden, we found Chloe casually sitting on the high wall that ran round the garden, and Zach on the garage roof. Nothing seemed to be wrong with them, and they all seemed surprisingly cheerful for having their shoes stolen by a hungry giant, and suddenly transported by magic. I was too dazed and confused to realise what had really happened; when I tried asking them, they all claimed not remember anything about it at all. Cousin Sarah gave me an extra big ice cream for being brave, and for being a good little girl and not peeping.

Later that day my parents arrived to pick me up, and I went home quite unsure what had really happened that afternoon; if Cousin Sarah’s story had come true, and there really was a giant. I always thought Cousin Sarah was a fantastic storyteller, and if she was somehow able to make stories come true, she was more powerful than I thought! (I did learn the truth about this one some years later, that all my cousins had been in on making it seem real, not just Cousin Sarah; but I remembered for a long time, with fondness and fear.)